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#sorry for the wall of text besties
tinycoffeeroom · 5 months
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just friends | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
part 2 !
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📍 sass cafe, monaco
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👤 bffstagram, landonorris liked by bffstagram, landonorris and 59,203 others
y/nstagram dj lando came out of retirement for the night🤠
landonorris 😎 only for you xx ↳ y/nstagram i'm honoured mr norris 🫡 ↳ fan i love my besties who don't know they're my besties
bffstagram bro my tummy hurts ↳ y/nstagram i'm coming round with coffee and croissants you big baby ↳ bffstagram i love my gf ♥️ y/nstagram
fan i wanna party with y/nlando so BAD dude ↳ y/nstagram if you ever find yourself in monaco hmu xx
user ew flipping off the camera so ladylike ↳ y/nstagram idk your mum quite likes my fingers 🫶 ↳ fan ☠️☠️☠️ i love her
fan bffstagram is so hot, i need her ↳ bffstagram thank u babycakes 💗
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liked by bffstagram, lilymhe and 69,928 others
y/nstagram rainy days in monaco 🌧️
lilymhe i deserve financial compensation for the emotional turmoil tfios sent me through ↳ y/nstagram don't,,, sat and sobbed my eyes out at the last 100 pages
fan how to lose a guy in 10 days... tfios... who hurt you y/n? ↳ y/nstagram hahahah nothing like that! i promise i'm all good!
bffstagram i still have a headache from crying at that book, next time i choose what we're reading for book club ↳ y/nstagram BORINGGGGG who doesn't love doomed romance? ↳ fan you guys have a book club? thats so cute 😭 ↳ y/nstagram yep! it's me, bff, kika, lily and flavy!! ↳ alexandrasaintmleux and no one thought to invite me?? ↳ y/nstagram come join us babe!! ❤️
landonorris wow, didn't take you for a sappy romance reader ↳ y/nstagram there's a lot you don't know about me comment deleted ↳ y/nstagram tfios can make even the iciest bitch cry (it's me, i'm the icy bitch)
landonorris also answer ur damn texts ↳ y/nstagram sorry idk how to read suddenly ↳ fan The Lando Norris gets aired, there's hope for the rest of the bitchless community ↳ landonorris dude...
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liked by fan, fan and 103,028 others
f1gossip Eagle eyed Sass Cafe goers managed to capture Lando Norris getting cosy with an unknown blonde girl. Rumoured girlfriend Y/N L/N was nowhere to be seen. Trouble in paradise for the young duo?
fan delete this rn y'all are fucking up my y/nlando chances
fan rumoured girlfriend?? i thought they were just friends ↳ fan that's what they both say, but they're always very close whenever they've been seen out together ↳ fan i'm pretty sure there was like a super grainy photo of them kissing but you can't really tell if it's either of them ↳ fan hey how about we don't speculate on people's love lives???
fan y/n has been absent from social media for like a month too ... its so over for us y/nlando'ers
fan her instagram is girlstagram! from what i could see before she went private, she posted a selfie of her and lando and they looked very close ↳ fan damn the fbi needs to hire you or smth
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liked by bffstagram, estebanocon and 65,928 others
y/nstagram thuggin it out (i've listened to your best american girl 34 times today i think bffstagram is about to smother me with a pillow)
fan um who hurt my bestie ???
fan whoever hurt y/n must die at the hand of my sword
fan lando norris i am in your walls FIX THIS
bffstagram i would never smother you xx also come out of ur room it is boring as FUCK out here ↳ y/nstagram damn cant a girl go through it in peace? ↳ bffstagram absolutely not, i have wine and nibbles get out here NEOOWWW or i'm breaking into ur room ↳ y/nstagram the door is open babygirl
fan ik this is a parasocial friendship but are you ok y/n? ☹️ we love you ↳ y/nstagram oh sweetie ❤️ i'll be fine, sometimes you just gotta be a lil sad y'know? thank you for asking, ily ❤️ ↳ fan ily, take care of yourself 🥺 ♥️ y/nstagram
estebanocon chérie, i don't know what's wrong but i hope you're ok! lets grab coffee soon, flavy misses you! ☺️ ↳ y/nstagram thank u este 🫶🥺 text me when you're free! tell flavy i love her 💗 ↳ flavy.barla i love you too 💕 ♥️ y/nstagram
fan no lando like, i have one (1) fear ↳ fan do not even speak that into the universe
fan after f1gossips post, i have my speculations ↳ fan dude, if he fumbled y/n he really will be lando nowins
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liked by flavy.barla, francisca.c.gomes and 10 others
y/npriv absolutely not thuggin it out lads
flavy.barla chouchou (sweetheart) 💔 that's it, me and este are taking you out for lunch tomorrow ↳ y/nstagram nooo don't let me ruin your date time!! ↳ flavy.barla nope it's already done! este's booked that little restaurant you like on pl. du casino ↳ y/nstagram le salon rose?? oh i could do a little weep, i love you guys 😭 ↳ flavy.barla we love you so so much y/n 💕
lilymhe i will hit him with my golf clubs ↳ y/nstagram i haven't even mentioned anyone? ↳ lilymhe we all know their name rhymes with bando borris ↳ y/nstagram wdym we all know? who else knows? ↳ flavy.barla ... me ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ francisca.c.gomes ^ ↳ lilynzeimer ^ ↳ heidiberger_ ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ kellypiquet ^ ↳ iamrebeccad ^ ↳ y/nstagram ok ok i get it damn
kellypiquet want me to ask max to rear end him with his race car? ↳ y/nstagram as if max would ever be behind lando ↳ kellypiquet 😳😳😳 ↳ y/nstagram i may l*ve him but i am also a realist ↳ y/nstagram ok no i do feel bad
y/nstagram uploaded to their story
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[caption 1: love of my life, apple of my eye, the thelma to my louise 💖 @/flavy.barla] [caption 2: damn stole my girl from right in front of me 😔 @/estebanocon @/flavy.barla]
seen by landonorris, flavy.barla and 67,394 others
flavy.barla mon ange (my angel), you know you're the only one for me 💕 ↳ y/nstagram tell that to your giant of a boyfriend :(
estebanocon i'm not a giant 😠 ↳ y/nstagram stop reading flavy's messages weirdo ↳ y/nstagram but on a real note, thank you for dinner, i really needed it ↳ estebanocon of course, i'm not sure what lando's done but we hate seeing you so sad ↳ y/nstagram who said it had anything to do with lando? ↳ estebanocon whenever me and flavy have an argument she pulls out the mitski lyrics, i know the signs ↳ y/nstagram that's different, you and flavy are dating ↳ estebanocon and you and lando aren't???? ↳ y/nstagram what? no? we're just friends ↳ estebanocon oh mon amie naïve (my naive friend) friends don't look at each other the way the two of you do
landonorris can we talk? seen
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anyone interested in a part 2?
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emo-batboy · 11 months
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Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University
Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D
Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model
Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.
Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it
Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-
Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)
Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything
Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did
“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway
Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work
Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.
Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY
Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*
Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him
Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)
Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew
Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.
Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once
Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving
Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam
Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.
Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone
Makes a murder wall
Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people
Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*
Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time
Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad
Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*
Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM
Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)
Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*
Wears a suit to one of his finals
Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has
Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion
Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom
Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct
Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons
Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*
Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those
Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that
Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which
Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?
Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times
Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)
Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*
Okay that's all love you BYE
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viennakarma · 9 months
Text
Drunk calls
Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You're drunk on your night out and accidentally call your boss, Fernando.
Word count: 1.5k
Tags: Female reader, drunk reader, fluff, Nando comforting reader, boss x employee relationship, not beta read
Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Notes: Anon requested drunk reader and sober nano, so i just ran with it and wrote a little something while on hangover from the new year party. (Also that ONE pic George Russell posted of him and Nando!!!!)
Hope you enjoy it, Anon!
Find me on Twitter!
As you left the toilet, you felt your legs wobbly as you supported yourself on the wall. You had been clubbing with your friends for a couple of hours now, but a few minutes ago you couldn’t find them, and you looked all around.
Pulling your phone from your purse, you called your bestie to try and find out where she was. As soon as she picked up, you started talking.
“Hi, Hanna! Where are-” You hiccuped, “where are you? I think I’m too drunk now, I can’t find you or the girls, and my head is pounding already, and I can’t walk straight.”
“Y/N?” A male voice asked.
“Who the fuck are you?” You frowned.
“It’s Fernando, you just called me,” he said and you turned your phone seeing that you had actually called him instead of your friend.
“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, boss!” You said and immediately hung up.
Fuck, you drunk called your boss on your day off. That was most certainly grounds for a reprimand. You had been working as his assistant for almost a year now, and had only been super professional and dedicated to doing your work. You and Fernando had been friendly and settled into a great work dynamic. So accidentally calling him like this would probably cause problems for you.
You didn’t even have time or energy to blame yourself too long as your phone buzzed with an incoming call from Fernando. You immediately hit decline. But barely a second later he called you again. Shit, he probably would tear you a new one. You hit decline again. You started sweating, god, you needed to go home, you needed to eat and you needed to plan a big apology for the next time you see your boss again.
Then two texts appeared coming from Fernando.
“Where are you?” “Pick up the call”
And then he called you again, and you picked it up this time preparing for him to go off on you.
“Where are you?” He breathed loudly.
“I’m at a club with my friends,” you stuttered a little bit, both because of the alcohol and because you were worried he might fire you on the spot.
“You said you lost them. Have you found your friends?”
“No, not really. But it’s okay, I’m gonna go home already!” You hoped you were sounding a little bit more confident.
“How?”
“What?”
“How are you going to go home?” He asked, voice serious.
“I’m gonna call a cab or something. Don’t worry!” Please, sound sober, please sound sober.
“Send me the address, I’m gonna pick you up.”
“No, no! It’s your day off too, you don’t have to worry I’ll be fine! Really, I promise I’m going straight home right-”
“I wasn’t asking. Send the address.” He cut you off and hung up.
Cursing and sweating, you sent him your location, walking slowly to the exit, still trying to locate your friends. As you made it outside, you leaned against the wall, feeling a little better with the fresh gust of wind outside the packed club. You flexed your knees because your heels were feeling like a fucking thousand needles punching the sole of your feet. You should listen to your younger sister and start wearing sneakers to the club.
After a few minutes, you saw a scandalous rich man’s car pulling up and you knew it’s Fernando. He stopped by the sidewalk and came walking to you. He was wearing slacks and a white button up, simple but classy. You had seen in his schedule before that he was going to go out with friends for dinner. So that’s probably where he came from.
He didn’t look too pissed at you but he didn’t look happy either, his face was rather neutral.
“How are you feeling?” He asked as he stopped in front of you. He was holding a water bottle, which he promptly opened and gave to you.
“I have been better, not gonna lie,” you said, and proceeded to drink almost the whole bottle of water.
“Why are you flexing your knees?” He asked.
“Because the heels are killing me.”
Silently, Fernando knelt in front of you and unbuckled the straps of your heels around your ankles.
“Off, now” he said, patting your calves, then offering you a hand so you could step out of the shoes.
“Jesus, thank you,” you mumbled, relieved to be barefoot finally, “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to pick me up.”
“I’m here already, quit whining,” he dismissed you, holding your forearm, “can you walk to the car?”
“Just give me a hand,” you asked, still a little unbalanced. You jolted a little when you felt Fernando’s hands on your thighs but he didn't touch you, he just pulled the hem of your dress down, since it was dangerously close to showing too much and maybe accidentally flashing everyone.
Fernando circled an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his side, keeping you standing all the way to his car, holding your heels with the other hand. You looked to the side of his face, and you were suddenly hit with the realization that Fernando is really, really attractive. 
“Damn, you’re handsome!”
It honestly slipped past your lips and you felt your cheeks warm up, embarrassed for saying that out loud, but Fernando only laughed a little, and kept walking you to his car, only stopping to open the door and put you in the passenger seat.
As you took the seat, he stared at your face, trying to catch any signs of something in your face. You blinked, staring into his beautiful greeny brown eyes, and he just huffed, pulling the seat belt and locking it around you.
When he finally started driving, the silence deafening, you looked at his side profile.
“Are you upset? I’m sorry! I promise I’ll behave.”
“I’m not upset. Though I will be a little annoyed if you throw up in my Aston Martin,” he said with a small smile.
“No throwing up happening anytime soon!” You raised your hand, held it in a cross and kissed it, “I’m actually really hungry”
Fernando clicked his tongue and reached for the backseat with one hand, pulling a Burger King brown bag. You smelled the food and you smiled.
“Oh my god! You’re a savior!” You opened the bag, which had your favorite burger and big sized fries, “this is my favorite!”
You ate quietly for a couple of minutes then a thought hit you.
“How do you know I like eating Burger King after getting drunk?” You said, and Fernando looked at you, opened the glove box and handed you a tissue.
“I know you well,” was all he said. He ended up driving you to his place, and you decided to question it.
“Why did you drive me here?” You walked in, sitting on the couch.
“What do you mean?” He looked confused.
“Ugh, never mind!” You stood up but the quick movement made you stumble and Fernando quickly held you in place.
“Careful!” He put both hands on your waist, in a way that felt very intimate.
You turned to face him, and he smiled softly, his hand now on your lower back. Then, you touched his eyebrow with the tip of your finger.
“I like your eyebrows.”
“Gracias.”
“And your beard too,” you cupped his face, feeling the roughness of his beard against your palm.
“Vamos, you need a shower,” he carefully walked you up the stairs and then inside the bedroom, straight to the bathroom.
Fernando turned you around and pulled down the zipper on your back. You gasped, holding the dress in place and turning to face him.
“You can’t undress me!”
He turned around, laughing.
“Ok, get in the shower and I’ll get you some clothes, eh?”
You showered, and when you left, a towel around your body, Fernando had left a small pile of clothes inside. There was a big t-shirt and sports shorts that you dressed. He also left you a toothbrush, which seemed very thoughtful of him.
When you walked back to the room, Fernando had changed into comfy clothes, and he was waiting for you sitting on the bed.
“Are you sobering up?” He asked.
And you just nodded, sleepy, crawling into his lap and snuggling into his chest, pressing your nose to his neck.
“Yup.”
“Then you remember who I am?” 
“You’re Fernando!” He laughed a little, kissing the top of your head.
“No, amor,” he leaned back, cradling your face with one hand, and pulling your right hand with the other, “I’m your fiancé.”
Wide eyed, you stared at the big diamond ring in your finger. Then, you finally remembered, your fiancé, your beloved Nano. Who had been your boss sometime two years ago, and you resigned when you realized you had feelings for him. In the end, he had gone after you because he harbored the same feelings for you.
You ended up laughing out loud, so hard that there were tears in your eyes.
“God, I’m never drinking again!”
“It’s cute that you forgot like this,” he laughed too.
You held his face, kissing him softly. His hand ran up your back, under your shirt. You wanted more, trying to deepen the kiss, but he just held you back.
“Sleep now, eh? Tomorrow I will wake you up with besos.”
1K notes · View notes
lightseoul · 2 years
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you and me, both
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synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. ‘it won’t be like last time!’ they said. you begrudgingly go. (part 1)
cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff
word count. 1.9k words
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You check your watch for the umpteenth time, which now reads 6:29 PM. It hasn’t even been a minute since you last checked it, yet it feels like you’ve been waiting here for hours.
The ramen shop you’re waiting in front of and agreed to hang out at is slowly getting packed with people, tired businessmen and students alike eager to eat the day’s worries away and head home full and satisfied.
Rocking yourself on your feet, you chance another peek at your watch. You stare at it as the minute hand finally strikes the number 12. With a heavy sigh, you look up to find Bakugou walking towards you, hands in his pockets, just in time.
Of all things, the last thing you need him to be is punctual.
You stare at each other in awkward silence before warily exchanging hello’s.
Before Bakugou could even bring up the elephant in the room, you quickly explain, “I think everyone else is just running late.”
He nods silently, and in three strides, arrives at the spot to your left, all the while sparing a respectable distance between the two of you.
Clearing your throat, you look around at everything else but him. The ramen shop you chose as a group called Kikanbo is known for its signature ‘devil’ ramen—devil because of its (allegedly, hot and numbing) spiciness.
You were initially against it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of Mina and Kirishima’s Pro Hero friends, but ultimately decided to go with the flow. The last thing you needed was for them to tease you about being self-conscious around Bakugou. Which you aren’t.
Suddenly, it dawns on you how suspiciously couple-looking you’re coming off right now. Giving Bakugou a quick once-over, he’s dressed in black joggers and a grey crewneck sweater, insulated by a thick, long coat. You internally sigh in relief at the sight of his baseball cap, which should shield his identity from prying eyes.
Though, you doubt his bulging muscles and piercing crimson eyes do much in terms of keeping a low profile.
While looking him up and down, he catches your eye. Embarrassed, you blurt out: “I’m gonna call Mina.”
Desperate to get away from his immediate radius, you don’t even wait for his acknowledgment before stepping away into a quiet corner. The phone rings three times before you’re greeted with a chirpy (too chirpy, if you were to be honest right now), sing-song voice.
“Hi, Y/N! What’s up?”
Twelve years of friendship and you still can’t believe this girl, “Mina? Where the fuck are you?! And everyone else?”
She has the nerve to guffaw, “Like I said, it won’t be like last time anymore! Tonight, it’s only gonna be you and—drum roll, please,” in the background, you hear someone—Kirishima, probably—imitating a drum, “Bakugou!”
Fuck. You can’t help but whimper, “You have to be kidding me.”
“Sorry, Y/N. We figured this is the only way we can get you guys to spend time together outside of just texting. By the way, you guys sure are going at a snail’s pace, huh?”
You can feel the blood rush to your face, “What? How’d you even—”
“Bye, bestie!” she cuts you off, “Have fun!”
“Be safe, bro!” Kirishima adds before she hangs up, leaving you slack-jawed and your heart going at 150 beats per minute.
When you turn back, you see Bakugou leaning with his back against the wall, a smirk decorating his features. What’s he all fucking smug about?
You reluctantly walk towards him, waving your phone for emphasis, “Did you know about this?”
“No,” the smirk has now been replaced with a subdued scowl, “but I put two and two together on the way here.”
And just like that, he drops the conversation. He simply makes his way to the entrance and you follow suit, forced to deal with all the implications by yourself.
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Just like the dinner from two weeks ago, it turns out that hanging out with Bakugou isn’t so bad after all.
After ruefully accepting the fact that you both got absolutely betrayed and stood up by your best friends, you entered the ramen shop and got seated on the stools facing the chefs. You ended up going for the regular level spices, or futsu futsu, while Bakugou went all in and ordered the devil ramen or oni mashi.
He barked a laugh at how your eyes bugged out the moment you saw how red his broth is. Instead of challenging you to a spice-off, though, he simply offered you the first sip (which stunned you—you didn’t expect him to make such a courteous gesture). Grateful, you took his offer.
You shouldn’t have, though.
You ended up choking so hard, alarming everyone in the restaurant, and Bakugou had to keep in his snort (that was surely gonna be loud and attract even more attention) in favor of getting you some milk to wash it off.
Once you recovered, you went on to eat your dinner, talking about the kinds of things you’ve conversed about over daily texts. Real-life conversation with Bakugou, to your pleasant surprise, is easy and free-flowing.
Contrary to how he’s depicted in media and your first impression of him from that run-in in the middle of your commute home from university, Bakugou is thoughtful and considerate. Sometimes brash, yes, but never mean.
He also seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say, mindful of shifting the conversation from revolving around his hero work to asking about how’s post-grad these days, or if there’s anything eventful that happened in Manual’s agency earlier, seeing as how’s today’s a Saturday, the day on which you work part-time as admin staff.
You couldn’t school the surprised expression on your face fast enough at his remembering, and a small, somewhat self-satisfied smile took over his lips at your reaction. You probably, maybe, could’ve died a happy person then and there, but you kept yourself in check.
Soon after the bowls were clean of delicious ramen and bills were paid, you then headed out and decided to walk in the cool night breeze, with Bakugou taking the lead.
Which is how you wound up here, in a somewhat populated park that you’ve never heard of, sitting on the bench overlooking the view and in comfortable silence.
“So,” you start, admiring the scenery (first; second, avoiding eye contact), “do you usually go here?”
He grunts in response, “Yeah. Though I usually stroll around alone, instead of…” he gestures awkwardly toward your direction.
You struggle to contain your chuckle. How can he be so domineering in the field yet so bunglesome when talking to you? It’s endearing, to say the least.
“But you have brought some over here, have you?” you look around again, inspecting the greenery, the stone infrastructure, the lights. “This place is so beautiful.”
“I have,” he starts, “I think I’ve jogged with Dunce-face and Bug Eyes here once.”
You snort at the nicknames he calls his friends, “Dunce-face? Are you referring to Kaminari when he—”
He smirks, “Yep.”
You can’t help but laugh out loud, and he joins in with a snicker.
“But wait,” you look at him, “I meant have you brought over a girl over here before?”
You mentally slap yourself for uttering the question before thinking it through, undertones and all. Bakugou’s eyes widen a bit, but his face remains controlled. If he’s masking his knee-jerk reaction, you’re thankful for it.
“I mean,” you peer amongst the people who are enjoying the night air with you, “Most of the people here are in pairs—couples, because of how romantic the place is at night, with all the light fixtures and all.” You shrug, “I’m sure any girl would appreciate being brought here.”
You sure as hell are hoping you’re coming off more as the ‘helpful-friend-giving-some-well-meaning-advice’ than the ‘jealous-bitch-who’s-crazy-over-past-girls’.
He huffs, and you’re starting to think you’ve overstepped his boundaries when he cuts off your train of thought. Hell—railroads you and leaves your mind embarrassingly blank.
“Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever been on a date. At least,” he snorts, “the one-on-one kind.”
Suddenly, a million questions start racing through your mind.
He’s considering this a date? Did he consider the fiasco from last time a double date? This is his first? What?! How?! Why did he bring you here, anyway? Does he think of you in that way…? How can he be so bashful yet so straightforward at the same time? How the fuck is he so cute?
All these very important (some outright silly) questions, but the one you pipe up with is: “But back then—you agreed when I said you had a lot of experience—how?”
“I grunted, dumbass. There’s a difference. I wasn’t about to tell ya how inexperienced I was in this sort of thing when you were hyping me up like no other.”
“Huh.”
He side-eyes you, “From the looks of it, I’d say you’re the one who’s had far more experience.”
You’re too embarrassed to admit the truth, and too dizzy from the implications of his statements, but you figured you owed him at least your honesty. Looking down at your clasped hands, you mumble under your breath, “This is actually my first time, too.”
Silence falls upon the two of you, and unlike earlier, it’s filled with budding anticipation rather than comfort. You finally will yourself to look up, only to see him red. Red all over—neck, ears, and face.
Redder than when he slurped down that monstrous broth from earlier.
Then it hits you.
What Mina said was…real.
She sure as hell omits some truths, concerningly more often than not, but she never lies to you.
You can’t help but let out a soft laugh, and he turns away at the sound, perhaps in embarrassment.
You smile, “For the record, I’m glad you’re my first.”
At that, he abruptly stands up, and for a second you’re thinking you ruined the moment by saying that, but you don’t get to wish for the ground to swallow you up whole because Bakugou looks back at you with a fierce determination in his eyes that makes your mind go hazy.
“Come on,” he holds out his hand, “I wanna make sure this is the best fucking first date you’re ever gonna have.”
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Bonus:
(as he’s walking you home from the park)
“Wait, so am I the first person you’ve been texting, too?”
“Yes. Now quit yapping about this ‘first’ shit or I’ll make you.”
You laugh good-naturedly, “But you’re so good at it! The pacing, the withholding of information to keep them wanting more—I was convinced you’ve done this with a million other people.”
He sighs in what you think is fake exasperation, as his cheeks are tinted with a faint red, “For the billionth time, you’re my first. And,” he looks away, “I had Shitty-hair help me out a bit.”
Normally, you’d extinguish any and all species of butterflies in your stomach brought to existence by a boy because you can’t afford to get distracted right now.
But, today isn’t normal.
You, instead, let the grin that’s been fighting to take over your face the entire evening finally win over. You can’t help it—hearing that from anyone—especially Bakugou, makes you happy.
You continue walking in comfortable silence until he’s the one to break it.
“So,” he starts and you don’t even have to look at him to know there’s a smirk adorning his goddamn handsome face, “all sorts of company, huh?”
“Shut up.”
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tagging. @wolfunderthethree @bakugo-dee @poemzcheng @fallingmoon02 @eksd @niiine @gold24fish @animehoe666 @distinguishedlight
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nrdmssgs · 1 year
Note
CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!
if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨
Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)
Does it make you nervous, when I stare?
Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.
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Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.
One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.
One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.
Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.
All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.
So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.
"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.
You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.
"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.
"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.
"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.
"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."
"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.
You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.
The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.
"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.
"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.
"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.
You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.
"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.
"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.
"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."
Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?
Schatzi - little treasure
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bucknastysbabe · 8 months
Note
Pleaseee I beg for more modern big dick jace!! Love your writing :)
Yessss it’s his speciality, thank you for the compliment Xoxo!
Jace Velaryon x Karstark!Reader | College!AU
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Tinder works in this universe, sweetie pie hockey player Jace, with a huge ass horse cock, Cousin Cregan for the win, filthy nasty wet sloppy, pnv!sex, Jace is terrified of his own dick, cutie gf/bf softness, poor Karstark is on the ride of the lifetime, sex playlists and general first time awkwardness, Virgin!Jace, LUBE💯
A/N: me no beta still but I’ll go back over and check stuff
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You rolled over onto your belly, you’d been texting this cutie from your college about two weeks now. All plump lips and pretty smiles— shamefully had a sorta hockey mullet going on but you could look past it. Did you mention his was rich as fuck? Really sweet too.
You were surprised he’d even matched with you on the dating app. You too went to Barrowton, a large university in the vast North of Westeros. So you didn’t fuck off to Dorne as planned but got a good education and a track scholarship at the least. Jace, the boy you’d been messaging, was here on academics and hockey. You’d seen him around with your cousin Cregan.
Stark. Karstark. Weird, you knew.
You’d went out with Jacaerys once so far, the brunette so sweet and humble for his upbringing. He liked to listen, citing that ‘northern accents were kinda hot’. Jace blushed to his ears afterwards, you pinching his cheek with a grin. He’d walked you back to your apartment, almost squeaking when you dragged him in.
The roomies merely raised a brow or continued their bickering over the Bachelor. Jace stuttered, “Uhhh what’cha got planned Karstark?” Were you being the idiot this time? Didn’t he want to fuck? Like all guys? You fumbled over your words and shrugged, eyes looking away, “I don’t know— uh, whatever the rest of guys want.”
Jace frowned, crossing his arms, “Sex, yeah?”
“Sex…yeah.”
The brunette came a little closer, grabbing your hand, brown eyes sparkling as he gently suggested, “Why don’t we just watch a movie? No pressure.”
You’d be screaming crying sliding down the wall gagging if you could but instead smiled and nodded, “That sounds perfect. I’ll go make some popcorn and you can pick out a drink.” He grinned and followed your way, casually picking at your roommates and their gossiping.
Jacaerys had become more of a staple in your life now— when time allowed for it. Still reluctant about anything that involved getting his pants off. By the new gods and old you were fucking horny too. For cock, specifically, Jace was a menace about eating you out. Came in his pants over it, moaning into your pussy about ‘how sweet you were’.
Maybe he was a virgin. Your Bolton roomie, a bit of an odd one, suggested he may have micropenis or something on her strange listing of diseases. You just wanted to bounce on his cock! He was either good sir micropenis or real good at hiding his dick, you had made out in his lap quite often. You figured calling Cregan might help, even if he was Jace’s bestie.
“What do you want?”
You rolled your eyes, “You have such a way with words dear Cregan. Why won’t Jace fuck me?”
There was a pause and a loud guffaw accompanied by the sounds of a phone falling. He picked up again, “Ha, sorry, took me off guard there cousin.” Narrowing your eyes and cursing got him to speaking, “Oh he’s just got a uh— how would you say— huge godsdamn prick. He made two chicks cry his freshman year and is scarred or something. Good luck.” Click.
Well, Cregan Stark was always to the point. You understood the assignment. Lube, lube, more fucking lube. Maybe start with a handy. You had a jaw injury from eating shit during hurtles so head wasn’t happening. So you texted Jace to come over later and picked out a slutty little lingerie set you hadn’t worn in awhile. Frankly it made your tits look great.
You wore a big shirt down to your knees to cover it up. In your room it was immaculately clean, scented with a rosy candle, and maybe a frantically drawn up ‘$$$$$3333xxxxxx’ playlist. Jace wouldn’t notice the shirt, you often dressed like that, he’d just be baffled why you weren’t cold. You came from a freezing ass little town constantly plagued by storms and wind from the Bay of Seals. Poor southern boy didn’t know cold in Barrowton.
“Your lover boy is here,” Aliss Glover hollered.
You blanched and took a deep breath. You’d had dick before, you were no virgin. Just. It was Jace! He was practically perfect! Shaking your head you walked to then apartment’s door and opened it to a smiling Jace, sporting a mean black eye.
You yelped wile pulling the junior into a hug, “What the hell happened?” Jacaerys laughed it off, kissing your cheeks sweetly. He sighed, “Got a little heated at the practice scrimmage today, don’t worry, we’re all good.” You raised a brow but let it be, Cregan always took care of his kin and friends. You grabbed his hand and led Jace away while he was babbling to Aliss.
You pushed him in first, closing and locking the door behind, discreetly pressing play on your speaker. Jacaerys’ face whitened as he looked around, realizing there was something going on. He stared back at you, eyes dark and cheeks pink. The brunette questioned, “You uh- did I- what’s going on?”
You ripped off the big ass shirt and stood there, holding your composure. By a thin little wire. Jace let out a rush of breath, lust crowding his features. You knew the look quite well. He stalked closer, hands winding around your lacy waist. You looked up at his dark expression.
“Baby,” he growled, “Tell me what’s going on. Now. Trapping me in here looking like that Hm?” His thumbs dug into your soft skin, eliciting a squeak from you. In a quaver you rambled, “I reallyreally- wantedtofuckyoubutifyourenotintoiticanstop-“
His plush lips sealing over your trembling ones shut you up, plastering yourself needily to his body, afraid he’ll run off. Jace moaned softly, lips pressing insistent kisses, getting more open mouthed by the second. His roughened hands grabbed your ass as he murmured in High Valyrian.
Jace laughed, “I thought you were the bold one, here I am keeping you from jumping out the window.” His cute nose nuzzled against your own. You replied sulkily, “Very funny, I thought you were going to run back out!” He kissed you again with a ‘mhm’ and picked your frame up, moving toward your little dorm bed. He groaned as he settled your frame down, stopping to shuck off his shirt.
His abs never failed to disappoint. Jace grew a bit quiet and sheepish, eyes darting up and back down to his shorts. He sat on the end of the bed and sighed, “Alright alright, I already know you called Cregan.” A warm hand gripped your ankle, a thumb rubbing grounding circles. The elder explained, “He’s never told a lie, it’s just a lot bigger than most girls prefer. I want you really fucking bad, like, so bad.”
There was a pause as he ran a hand through shaggy hair.
“I just don’t want to hurt you and ruin everything. This one girl made me pay for her gyno.” You couldn’t help but guffaw, “What a bitch! No! We will make this work. If it doesn’t whatever there’s other ways to cum. Just c’mere again and whip it out. Lemme touch it atleast.”
The brunette’s somber eyes lightened a bit, plush lips splitting into a toothy smile. He eased off the little shorts, the even smaller briefs, leaving your mouth agape. Gods be damned and the children of the forest too. He was hung like a damn horse and not even half-hard. Jace blushed and threw his hands up, “It’s a family blessing and curse apparently! I don’t have a list of size queens up for grabs.”
You growled, “I got lube and patience, c’mere lover boy.”
He turned to you, crawling over your needy body, that heavy cock swaying, utterly mesmerizing. Gods— his balls too. You groaned, “How did you hide that beauty?” He snipped back, “Tuck and go. Stop staring so hard!”
“What? It’s hot? You and your huge cock are hot.”
“Crazed northwoman.”
He settled on his haunches, your legs propped over his knees, waiting for the dummy to notice the panties were crotchless. You leaned to turn over to the mega-lube bottle and squirted a handful. “Oh fuck, you d-didn’t, there’s no damn,” he panted.
“Mhmm,” you hummed happily, slapping your lubed hand on his prick. The poor thing’s eyes rolled up as he moaned your name, you growing more aroused at the feeling of hot, throbbing flesh. How much blood it took to fill that thing— all for you. You pressed, “Feels good baby?” He nodded, head thrown back, mouth wide, “So good.”
You jacked him at a steady pace, not too fast. Because dammit you were getting that thing somewhat stuffed inside of you. He panted, “Lemme, lemme stretch you out, make you cum first.” Jace’s familiar fingers slid at your sopping entrance, glassy eyes watching your cunt suck him in.
You arched a bit, shivering with excitement, Jace’s two fingers pumping and curling. You twisted your hand on the bulbous tip of Jacaerys’ cock and he cried out, jamming a third finger into you. The pair of you grunted and hissed like teens— trying out new territories. Soon you were gasping and mewling helplessly as he had four fingers deep inside, pinching your pussy in the sweetest way.
You came on his fingers, Jace slathering the slick also on his cock. Everything felt wet— your boyfriends cock was dripping with lube, slick, and his own pre. He was red faced and steadying staccato breaths, gently removing your hand, handing his shirt to you. Jace moved further up your body, face to face again.
He asked sweetly, “You okay?”
Pecking his bee-stung lips you murmured, “Mhm, whenever you want baby.”
“Just tell me okay? Please? Want this to be good for you.”
More little smacks of kisses and sappy cooing. Jace breathed out, guiding himself to your entrance. He repeated under his breath, “Okay, okay, here we go, here we go, okay baby, here goes.” You could almost laugh because only the tip had just touched you. Then he moved further in, stretching your pussy open. You locked your legs around his waist for a better angle, breathing slowly.
The intrusion was intense, his cock filling every part of your cunt. Then the tip was fully in, Jace groaning like he’d been murdered. You panted, a bit overwhelmed, nuzzling into his jaw. “Keep going,” you whined. Jace nodded haphazardly, getting the girth of his shaft in. He bottomed out with a wheeze, you squirming.
Holy fuck. This was intense. You felt like you’d been stuffed with cock. It burned so fucking good— so good, you told him, maybe? Jace croaked, “Y-yeah baby? Fuuuck you’re tight.” You whimpered, “Mhm, l-look, stuffed me so good. Gods, oh, S’alot Jace.” He peered down to see the bulge at your lower belly, his cock that fucking big.
Jacaerys needed to get to work or he’d blow every godsdamn where. Agonizingly he pulled his cock backward until the tip remained, then jerked forward. You saw the absolute ecstasy flit across his features, Jace choking on his moans. You goaded him on in little cries, too cock drunk to function, getting the wreck to build a rhythm.
Jace was sloppily mouthing at the lace over your tits, trim hips smacking your ass over and over. All you were capable of was mewling, crying, and holding him for dear life. You’d always thought it was dumb that girls would go cross eyed but— there was two Jacaerys fucking you silly. He stared up at you, dark eyes full of affection, lips agape.
His voice was a shivering wreck, “You’re so perfect.”
You grabbed his head to kiss him again, the blunt tip of his cock nudging your innermost walls. It was causing a strange friction, nothing like you’d felt, making your bladder and insides feel a little too warm. You whined in overstimulation, clit throbbing in time with your fluttering pulse. A hook drew downwards fast— you were gonna come.
Scratching at your boyfriend’s shoulders you wailed into his mouth, legs spasming around. Jace began to knit his brows in concern before you yowled his name, gushing on his cock, sobbing with every stabbing pulse of the intense orgasm. He choked on his spit, eyes going wide, swearing, “S-sweet s-seven!” His fat prick was trapped by your cunt, milking him for all he was worth.
Thank god for birth control. He wasn’t going anywhere.
You continued to mewl and hold onto Jacaerys, the male grinding his teeth down on a yelp, emptying deep into your abused hole. You writhed again, his cum having no room, slipping out with every stunted pump of his hips, whining under his breath. The brunette spewed nonsense in your ear, falling flat atop you with an ‘oof’.
You were too out of it to complain, trying to put two and two together. The rational little part of your brain complained about the mess— how you totally squirted all over your boyfriend and the bed. He hummed dopily, “God, I made you squirt, gonna dream about this forever.” You nodded blearily, “Uh-huh babe.”
His cock eventually softened enough to slide out of your poor pussy with a slick squelch. Absolutely disgusting— yet desire twitched at the sound of how used you had been by the guy. Jace rolled onto his side, hiking one of your legs atop his own. You hissed in discomfort, Jace apologizing.
He peered at you intensely, asking in a saccharine tone, “You okay Babygirl? Thought I sent you off the planet there for a second.” You smirked at him, brushing back his messy locks, rasping, “I may have seen the light. Sorry ‘bout the mess. That thing has talent— you have talent.”
“I think if it wasn’t messy then I didn’t do a good job,” he drew closer to nip at your lip, “Didn’t even have to touch your clit babes.” Another bolt of arousal hit you. So you slapped his side and harrumphed, “Shush Jace. You’ve worn me out enough.” He grinned, kissing your hairline and cheek between laughs.
“I’m sure in two months I’ll be a pro.”
“That’s a bet.”
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zreamy · 1 year
Text
nothing to lose
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pairing: jay park x fem!reader
summary: after a hockey party, a football game, and a near perfect first kiss, jay is humbled by his (practically silent) friend sunghoon, who reminds him that he has nothing to lose.
genres: university / college au, friends (uni crushes) to lovers, smut, fluff
warnings: minors dni, vaguely (very?) british undertones..
word count: 24,064 .. sorry.
playlist: awkward sza, do you like me? daniel caesar
author's note: please just be nice to me and let me know your thoughts (positive / negative / anything as long as ur not mean abt it) .. thank u @asahicore my rock, my bestie, my beta reader .. <333 hope u enjoy !!!
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When you pair his kind eyes and charming smile with his ever-positive outlook on life, it’s easy to see why Park Jongseong is heavily popular amongst the student body; even described by your flatmates (and the rest of his fan club) as the stuff of dreams. And in your dreams, you know exactly why he’s staring in your direction with a sweet smile on his face. In real life, however, you have absolutely no idea and it’s kind of weird. Not his smile itself, no, his smile is.. really pretty, but it’s kind of weird in the sense that it’s directed at you. 
You think. 
Most of the library’s population sits across the room in the computer lab and based on your seat, at an empty table, in the (also empty) far corner, he’s either smiling at you or at the wall that your head is resting on. It’s not until the two of you lock eyes that you feel you should smile back, though your brows knit together at the way he whips his head around in the other direction when you do – a move that seems out of character for the Park Jongseong that you know. Or rather, the Park Jongseong Jay that you knew.
The Jay you knew was a (more than) pleasant enough guy who grinned in a way that pushed a dimple into his cheek every time he got to class and sidled his way through the aisle to sit in the seat next to you. The very first time he did it he’d mistaken you for someone else, his smile faltering slightly as he sat down anyway, a large hand extended to you.
“Jay,” he introduced himself, nodding thoughtfully when you told him your name and holding on to your hand for a split second longer than what was comfortable. And even though it was clear that he’d been sitting in the wrong seat, at Na Jaemin’s end-of-year party months later, you acted shocked when he told you about how he’d forgotten to put his contacts in that morning. Nonetheless, he continued sitting next to you in that class for the rest of the semester.
From your current seat in the library, you watch him curiously, wondering if he might look over again. For two minutes, he leans against a shelf in the reference section, completely unaware of his audience (you) as he types on his phone. You can’t take your eyes off him until the sudden vibration of your phone startles you, your hand reaching for it immediately thinking (hoping?) it might be a text from him.
yj: hockey mixer tn 
yj: what are you guys wearing 
You feel relieved to see that it’s just Yunjin in the group chat, though, as you read the messages, you struggle not to roll your eyes seeing that she (captain of the hockey team) is still trying to convince you (non-member of the hockey team) to go to the hockey mixer. By the looks of things, the field hockey team is the last to take advantage of the space that the student union building has to offer. Functioning as a nightclub over the weekend (and on select weeknights), The U is the place to be if you’re looking for a good time for a good price.
Unlike the other club parties, tonight’s hockey mixer is Yunjin’s answer to concerns raised by members of the students’ union about binge drinking on campus. According to her: “A mixer is an informal gathering where people mingle, interact, and get to know each other. And a party is,” she paused, fixing her eyes on the ceiling as if waiting for divine inspiration to strike. “Fun.” She didn’t seem pleased when you asked if this meant that the mixer would be boring and eventually confessed that the hockey party would be a mixer in name only.
You lock your phone without responding and lift your gaze back to references only to find that Jay is gone; stuck to the part of the bookshelf he was leaning on, you notice a lopsided poster featuring two crossed field hockey sticks and a ball over a green gradient, and a chill runs down your spine. If Yunjin is one thing, she’s bad at graphic design persistent. 
Unfortunately, in all your time spent not working, you find that your laptop hasn’t begun doing your research paper for you, and the Google Doc looks exactly the same as it did when you last edited it one hour ago, with only the intro from the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals website pasted into it. In the bottom left corner of your screen, a white box tells you that it’s 467 words long, and, feeling a rare bout of motivation, you get to work paraphrasing and attempting to condense the text.
As morning turns into afternoon, the library starts to get busier and busier, and despite the low hum of several different conversations creeping in through your earphones, you’ve gotten into a flow with your work and don’t let anything distract you. That is until Jay himself lets his backpack thud onto the table across from you, brows raising a little at the sudden noise, before pulling out the chair and sitting down. 
“Need a study buddy?” he asks, a tentative hand on the zipper of his jacket. 
You take a moment to observe him; the way he asked to join you after having already joined you, settling into the seat before you’d had a chance to say anything. A part of you wants to say “no,” just to see how he reacts, but, with a smile on your face, you take out your earphones and say, “Sure.” 
A grin spreads over his lips as he mumbles the word sweet, shrugging off the oversized coat and letting it drape over the back of his chair, revealing a chunky pair of headphones sitting around his neck and a thin gold chain with a hook pendant on it. His dark hair sits flat on his forehead and he rakes a hand through it twice before taking a textbook out of his bag. He doesn’t touch it, though. Instead, he lets his elbows rest on the table in front of him, biceps flexing slightly under his sleeves as he crosses his forearms. “What are you working on?” he asks.
“A report on the integration of renewable technology in buildings, for my sustainable development class.” 
Jay hums, brows raising slightly. “Renewable tech like solar panels and shit, right?” 
“Right.” 
Another grin, pretty, sincere. “It’s cool you’re getting to learn about the stuff you care about,” he tells you, and even if you hadn’t been looking at him, you’d have been able to hear the smile in his voice, light, sweet. Jay is sweet. The statement trickled out of his mouth so simply, so casually, a small detail that you have to rack your brain to recall sharing with him; still just as attentive as you remember. “Really.”
“Yeah,” you nod, smiling too. “Exactly.” 
There’s a distinct comfort that rolls off of Jay in waves as the two of you chat, and the scene feels familiar. It’s reminiscent of the nights you’d spend together last term, at a table like this one with the notes from your shared Property Law lecture sprawled out in front of you while pretending to study. The two of you would find anything else to talk about, and constantly received dirty looks from the laughter you’d struggle to stifle. 
It’s not until Jay reaches for his textbook that you properly check it out, and as a non-fashion student, you’re not expecting to know what subject he’s studying but you’re pretty sure that Nutrition, Energy, and Human Performance are not part of his curriculum. “Excercise Physiology?” you ask, reading its title.
“I picked it up earlier for Sunghoon. He’s at the rink all morning,” he nods.
“So why are you studying it?”
Jay laughs, shifting in his seat. “It’s, like, the only thing I have in my backpack. I just came over here ‘cause I wanted to say hey.” 
It takes everything in you not to say “aww” out loud; his sweetness palpable, his smile contagious, and his eyes so bright and warm that your heart soars in your chest when you look at them. “Hey,” you say after a beat. 
“Hey,” he chuckles. “How was your break?” 
“It was good! I went home for a week, or so, and then I got bored and came back to hang out with Chaewon,” you tell him, grinning despite yourself at the memory of poorly mixed cocktails and days spent lounging by the pool at her family’s holiday home. “85% of the summer was just us running around being stupid.” 
“And the other 15?” 
You feel more than a little awkward about telling him that you spent the other 15% fooling around with Jaemin, so with a forced smile you tell him, “Just more running around being stupid.” Hopefully, he can’t sense your mild discomfort and thinks you’re scratching your neck because it’s itchy and not because of the slight guilt you feel. “How was yours?” 
“Minus Chaewon, I had, like, the exact same break.” He pauses, breaking out into the widest grin you’ve ever seen. “Oh, and I went to the Yuuri show! It was crazy.” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “I was gonna text you but I didn’t wanna bother you during break or anything.” 
“Oh,” you say, dragging the vowel. “Right. So you’re bothering me during term time instead?” You tease, though with the way Jay’s eyes widen and his brows knit together, it doesn’t seem like he’s caught on to your joking tone. “I’m kidding, tell me all about it,” you add as quickly as you can manage, a huge smile on your face. 
Relief washes over you as Jay laughs, his shoulders shaking, and his nose crinkling, showing off the scar across its bridge that you’ve come to like so much. After calming down, he watches you carefully, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Right,” he finally says, taking a breath before talking with excitement and at great length about the concert. 
But it isn’t without slight interruption: Jay’s phone vibrates against the table a few times, and he ignores it, eventually turning it on do not disturb before squinting at you. “You’re not allowed to laugh. Pinky promise me you won’t laugh.” He holds his hand out to you, wagging his pinky finger in your face. There’s a smile on his lips when you link your finger with his, his skin rough against your own when he squeezes your pinky. As much as his tight grip is starting to hurt, you (unsuccessfully) fight off a smile when you realise that the two of you are effectively holding hands. 
“I’m not gonna laugh,” you promise.
A beat passes before Jay lets out a chuckle. “That’s my girl,” he says, voice low as if he didn’t want you to hear him. You wish you didn’t hear him. 
When you try to let go, he doesn’t budge, only easing up a little so he’s not cutting off your circulation anymore; just holding it lightly with his. Across the table from you, struggling to meet your eyes, Jay wears a sheepish look. “He threw his pick out into the crowd at the end of the show, and I caught it!” he tells you, looking away. “And I cried..” His voice thins out into practically nothing though you think you hear the words “home,” and “Heeseung,” before he stops talking completely. 
Jay’s sentimental side has tugged at your heart for as long as you’ve known him, and given the way he’d sobbed quietly in his seat at the cinemas when you’d gone out to watch a late showing of Spider-Man 2 together, you find it easy to imagine him welling up over catching Yuuri’s guitar pick. 
For some reason, much like the tears he’d shed over Peter Parker, you find the thought quite cute, and a smile teases at the corners of your mouth as you make a mental note to finally listen to some Yuuri songs later on. Jay looks at you expectantly, and before you have the chance to speak his phone starts to ring, vibrating incessantly against the table, though Jay doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 
“Do you need to get that?” you ask, unable to suppress the snort that makes its way out. 
Jay shakes his head. “You promised me. You’re still promising me,” he says, lips curving into a frown as he makes a show of waving your still-linked hands.  
“No, it’s cute that you cried.” 
He seems shocked by this. “Really?” 
“A little.” 
His mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he furrows his brows at you. “A li—” He’s cut off by his phone vibrating once again, and he releases your pinky to check it. Jay sighs lightly, reading the messages from his screen and picking up the textbook. “Sorry, Hoon’s on my ass about this thing. I gotta go.” 
Disappointment weighs lightly on your shoulders at his words, though you do feel better when you see the little pout on his lips, hoping that it means he doesn’t want your conversation to end either. “I get it,” you say, shooting him a smile that you hope is convincing as he puts the book in his bag before pulling his jacket back on, and standing up from his seat. 
“I’ll text you,” he says cheerfully, waving at you before leaving. He looks over his shoulder a few moments later, waving again with the same smile from earlier on his face. 
You can’t help but watch as he retreats, captivated by the air of confidence he somehow exudes even without showing his face, until he disappears into the mix of students by the entrance, becoming just another bag and shoulders in the crowd. 
Without Jay to chat to, the idea of sitting in the library becomes jarring, and suddenly it’s time for you to leave too. You don’t hesitate to grab your phone when it vibrates twice next to you, an odd combination of the relief from earlier and slight disappointment hitting you when you see that it’s Yunjin — texting you directly this time. 
yj: if you wanna ignore me turn off read receipts 
yj: open bar for girls on the team
you: sounds like the hockey girls are gonna have a good night
yj: i’ll get you a jacket
you: don’t bother i’m not going. 
SWANG rattles through tinny speakers in the student union and with every free drink you knock back, it gets harder and harder to pretend to Yunjin that you’re not having a good time. The team jacket she snagged for you and Chaewon to share fits a little big over your shoulders as you conclude that Number 20 is a lot more popular than you thought if the vaguely disappointed look on many faces when they see your face is anything to go by. 
Sitting in a booth towards the back of The U, you and Yunjin mumble along to the song with a shot in each hand as she starts a countdown from 3! and you wonder whether or not you’ll be able to make it to class in the morn—2!—ing given how much you’ve had to drink and how much of the night is still left to happen 1! The formerly rancid tequila goes down like water the first time around, and gets caught in your throat the second time. 
“I’m so happy you came tonight!” she yells in your ear, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, choosing to gush while you cough into the crook of your elbow. “I always have the most fun with you but you never come out.” Her drunkenness is evident in the slightly higher pitch that her words take on and the way most of the consonants come out almost the same way the vowels do. 
As sweet as she’s being, you can’t ignore the alarms blaring in your head hearing that your best friend would describe going out (at least) two nights a week as “never” going out, but you chuckle along anyway, locking your hand with hers. 
With a smile on his face, Lee Jeno brings Chaewon back to the booth in one piece, ruffling her hair a little before raising a hand to salute you and Yunjin, and disappearing back into the crowd. 
“The period at the end of that last text almost convinced us,” she says as she takes her seat beside you. “But I new your little crush on Jay wouldn’t let you miss a chance to see him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
Chaewon rolls her eyes, backing a shot before leaning over you to get closer to Yunjin. “She’s pretending again.” 
With a scoff, Yunjin unlocks her phone and pulls up her camera roll to an album titled with an unfortunately cute ship name. “I can’t stop thinki–” You cut her off, snatching the phone from her hands and placing it under your thigh. 
“Okay, okay,” you relent, letting your head fall back as you groan. “I may have had a.. thing for him last semester but I’m over it now.” 
“Do you think he’ll swipe up if I post a song he likes?” Chaewon reads between laughs. 
Flustered, you sink into your seat after hearing the text that you sent two nights ago, hoping with all your might that the booth will open up to swallow you whole. 
To your utter devastation, it does not. 
The universe chooses to soothe you in a different way by sending an angel Kazuha to drag you all out onto the dance floor. With intertwined hands, the four of you “excuse me” and “sorry” your way over to where Sakura and her friend Mark are dancing a little closer than usual with one another. 
His hands are on her hips as he holds her back to his front, the two of them grinding to the music, but she’s quick to smack his hands off of her and break away from him when she sees you guys approaching. Using a hand to push hair out of her face, Sakura laughs at nothing, smacking Mark’s chest playfully while he glues his eyes to the floor. 
“We missed you at pres,” you say, wrapping her in a hug. 
“Right, sorry, Mark had a thing at his place!” 
Despite understanding why she does, you ignore Chaewon when she nudges you at the mention of Mark and his place before hugging him too, agreeing when he says that you guys should come next time. 
The six of you form a circle after greeting one another, jumping around while yelling obnoxiously to the music blaring into your ears. Over Mark’s shoulder, you see Jay nodding at a friend before leaving the clu—“I’m actually gonna go get some air,” you blurt out. “Alone!” you add before Yunjin can offer to come with. 
Despite the way the breeze nips at your legs, the fresh air is a welcome slap in the face when it hits you; the previously ear-splitting music reduced to a pathetic mumble now that you’re outside. A few girls that you recognise from some of your classes stand opposite the, now short, entry queue, waving you towards them and blowing cigarette smoke over their shoulders. You shake your head when they offer you a draw, though (against your better judgement) you do accept a few hits of a polar menthol flavoured juul while chatting distractedly about your “new spot” on the hockey team and trying to find Jay — which doesn’t take you very long.
Not too far from where you’re standing, he leans against the building’s grey brick while looking at his phone. Its OLED display casts a slight glow over his features, showing off the crease of his brow, the slope of his nose, and the tiny little pout set on his lips as he types. 
You can’t help but stare as Jimin and Minjeong plan the rest of their night, which includes afters at Yizhuo’s if she doesn’t pass out, and extend an invitation to you and your friends — “I mean, we’re still gonna go. She’ll probably need us more if she does,” Minjeong says, stubbing out a cigarette under her shoe before both girls head inside. 
Waving goodbye, you let yourself find Jay again and take a deep breath. For a moment, you attempt to strategise in the way you and the girls always do together. A few possibilities play out in your head and right when you think you’ve found a good opener—“Hello!” You find yourself saying as you stumble walk over to him.
As you’ve come to expect, his mouth curves into a smile when he looks up at you. “Hello,” he says, laughing through the word. In the short time it takes you to reach him, and lean about an arm’s length away on the same wall, he slips his phone into his jacket pocket. “Since when are you a hockey girl?” 
With a smile of your own, you roll up your left sleeve to refer to a watch that you’re not wearing. “It’s been a few hours.”
Jay’s teeth press down on his bottom lip as he chuckles, before mumbling an apology and pulling his phone back out. You don’t mean to peek at his screen when he opens the messages app, but you do anyway. And can’t help but feel bad at the sight of your name at the top of the second message thread — the memory of Yunjin taking your phone so you couldn’t text back forcing your stomach to turn a little. 
Lifting your gaze back up to him, you sort of hate how pretty he looks as he ruffles his hair before putting his phone back in his pock—You turn your head immediately, finding sudden interest in the lamp post that irregularly flickers a pale yellow over his shoulder. For a split second, it seems like you managed to stare at him without being caught, but if the little laugh he lets out is anything to go by, your neck jerk wasn’t as subtle as you’d hoped. 
“You’re cute,” he grins, stepping a little closer. “It suits you.”
It’s a struggle to backtrack and remember what the two of you were even talking about as the faint scent of his cologne hits your nostrils. “F-field hockey?” you offer. 
“The jacket,” he clarifies, a sweet laugh slipping past his lips as he speaks. 
“Ohh, you too.”
He cocks his head to the side. “You think this suits me?” 
His hand comes to one side of his denim jacket, holding it out slightly and allowing you to catch a proper whiff of his cologne and a glimpse of his bare shoulder. You worry a little about what might come out of your mouth if you open it, deciding for everyone’s sake just to nod and pray that he’ll leave the damn jacket alone. 
“It’d probably look better on you.” 
An audible smile tugs at your lips. “No way.” You shake your head, trying and failing to keep your giggles to yourself.
“You wanna prove me wrong?”
With a tilt of your head, you turn the offer around in your mind; a pros and cons list starting to take shape. 
Pros: getting to wear Jay’s jacket, having an almost permanent reason to keep chatting with him throughout the night, and getting to see Jay in a vest — arguably the biggest pro of them all, given the amount of IG stories he’s posted in the gym recently.
Con: losing free drinks privileges; which doesn’t really seem like a huge deal because Chaewon can just wear the hockey jacket and get drinks for you like she’s been doing for half of the night so far. 
Under the weight of Jay’s stare, you shift on your feet, realising that he’s clearing his throat for the second time since he stopped speaking and you still haven't said anything. “But then I’d have to pay for my drinks,” you say in an attempt not to seem too eager. The words slur a bit on their way out, though you’re too caught up in the way Jay’s lips tug into a grin to fuss over it. 
“Not if you stick wi—” He stops short, cut off by a voice from a few metres away. “Jongsaaaaaaeeeeeeng!” it yells. And if not for his silver head of hair, you’d never have believed it was Park Sunghoon screaming like that. 
“Poor guy kept icing himself,” Lee Heeseung calmly explains, walking ahead of Sunghoon and, what looks like, Sim Jake who’ve been giggling with one another since the cry left the younger’s mouth. 
Despite not knowing Sunghoon very well, from what you’ve heard about him, it’s easy to imagine him hiding bottles of Smirnoff Ice to ice one of his friends, only to lose track of where he’d put them and find them himself later on, thinking one of his friends was icing him. The thought makes you stifle your laughter; you like the fact that Jay laughs too. 
Before dapping Jay up, Heeseung offers him the confiscated Smirnoff Ice that Sunghoon had made quite a dent in, only shrugging when he declines. Jay watches as his friend wraps an arm around your shoulder in a polite side hug while asking if you want to finish the “smice”. You let a beat pass before telling him that you’ll think about it. 
For a while, you listen as he fills Jay in on what he missed at pres, smiling at Jake and Sunghoon as they get closer, and wondering when it would be appropriate if at all, to introduce yourself to the three boys that you’ve only ever walked by at parties or on campus. You find a window when the two arrive, waving a little when you tell them your name. 
Jake’s lips curve into what looks like a smirk as he looks over at you. “We know,” he says, eyes darting quickly over to Jay before looking back at you.
Sunghoon says nothing. 
The boys are quick to get back to their conversation, and Heeseung glances in Jay’s direction, nodding his head before making a show of unscrewing the cap on the smice and skying it. After an impressive chug, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, holding up the empty bottle like a trophy before putting it in the bin. 
With a slight frown, you realise that you didn’t even get to tell him that you didn’t want it. 
There’s a grin on his face as he wraps his arms around Jake and Sunghoon’s shoulders. “See you guys in there!” he says before guiding the two boys away and into the club.
With the two of you on your own again, you become hyperaware of your proximity, of the fact that if you moved your hand even a centimetre it would brush his. The heat from his body is dizzying, and with his body leaning down towards you, Jay is already watching you when you look up at him. His lips rest in a small smile that only widens at the sight of your face, seeming unbothered that you’d caught him staring. That it wouldn’t take much to bridge the gap between your faces. Between your lips.  
“The offer still stands,” he says. “To wear my jacket and drink for free.” 
A somewhat familiar 808 beat rattles through tinny speakers in the student union.Jay’s jacket fits pretty big over your shoulders as you try not to say anything ridiculous while he holds your hand, leading you through the crowd. Now that your hands are actually clasped, the butterflies you’d felt over having linked fingers for a pinky promise seem silly, completely eclipsed by the feeling of your heart clattering against your ribs. After every few steps, he looks over his shoulder at you, your cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each smile he throws your way.
Upon your return to the booth, you drop the team jacket in Chaewon’s lap, praying that your friends won’t say anything about Jay or the fact that you’re wearing his jacket — or the fact that despite having reached your friends safely the two of you are still holding hands. By the looks of things it seems as though telling her to move up isn’t enough of a signal to her that you’d like to sit down; though maybe she’s just too busy trying to shrug the jacket back on to move up. You tell yourself that she’s just too busy trying to shrug the jacket back on to move up. 
Chaewon wears a wicked grin on her face, making no effort to be discreet about staring at your intertwined fingers. “YN? Why aren’t you dancing? You love this song!” she says, opening her mouth to wink obnoxiously at you and nudging Yunjin.
“I don’t know this song,” you say, liking the way Jay laughs beside you, squeezing your hand a little. 
For reasons unbeknownst to you, Yunjin sees this as the best opportunity to chime in, tilting her head before saying, “Whaaaaaaat? This is your favourite song! Trust me, Jay, she loves this song!” 
“And she’s such a good dancer,” Chaewon adds. “Have you seen her dance, Jay?” 
You stand around dumbly, mouthing the word “stop,” at your friends and leaning up towards Jay when he leans down to you. “How about a drink?” he asks with a voice as smooth as velvet, soft lips grazing the shell of your ear. 
“Please.” 
After telling the girls that you’ll be back, and flipping them off with your free hand, you let Jay lead you back through the dance floor to the bar, letting an elbow rest on its surface. When you look at him, he’s watching you, his lips quirked up ever so slightly while he does so. 
Letting your nails drum against the bar, you smile back. “Sorry about my friends,” you say, unsure as to why you’re apologising but feeling like it’s the right thing to say. 
“Sorry about your friends?” Jay asks. He grins. “Sorry about mine.”
You want to tell him that you liked his friends, that they seemed nice. Even though Sunghoon didn’t speak, and Heeseung finished the drink he offered you before you even had a chance to let him know that you wanted it. But he’s already distracted. 
His eyes scan the bottles that line the shelves behind the bar, and you busy yourself doing the same thing, the sight of almost every rum brand bringing up memories of past nights out with your friends. Two palm trees on a white bottle of “MarkLeebu” leave you suppressing your laughter as you think about Sakura’s friend falling asleep - standing up - against the wall of a club after drinking two bottles of Malibu to himself on a dare. 
Jay’s breath fans your ear when he speaks, “What are you having?” 
“A jäger bomb.” 
With a nod, he orders your drink and a whiskey for himself, and as per his suggestion, the two of you toast “to third year” before drinking. 
Jay makes good on his promise. One shot becomes two becomes three, and a cocktail in a comically large pitcher before you wake up the next morning to Sakura hogging the duvet, and no memory of anything beyond sitting down at the bar. 
While lying on your back you curse two versions of yourself: the first for leaving the window open before you left, and the second for having so much to drink. Staring up at the ceiling, you attempt to go over your interactions with Jay using a fine-tooth comb to figure out just how badly you humiliated yourself last night. Given the fact that you don’t remember what happened after 1 a.m. (or so), this doesn’t take too long, and the corners of your lips quirk up into a smile as you think about the way his hand felt in yours. 
Your memory tells you that he smiled a lot, but this seems like an insignificant detail because Jay always smiles a lot. There was a pitcher. A big one. Inside it was a vibrant, sweet, too cheap to be true cocktail that you sipped, blinked, and opened your eyes to find yourself in bed. The unaccounted-for period fills you with a visceral sense of dread, leaving you unsure if you shiver because of the temperature in your room or out of sheer embarrassment. 
The notifications you find on your phone only make you feel more nervous, so you cover your eyes with your hand before checking them. You were mentioned in Chaewon’s Instagram story (which means you behaved catastrophically), and you have a text from Jay (which .. well you’re not quite sure what to make of this). Through the gap in your fingers, you start by looking at the story, uncontrollable butterflies in your stomach from what you see. A picture (on close friends) of you sitting in Jay’s lap with his arms wrapped around your wairs, and his chin resting on your shoulder; the two of you donning wide grins with THESE TWOOOOOOO 😍😍😍 written over it. 
Jay’s text is simple yet sweet: hope u got home okay, was realy nice getting to chill w u again &lt;3. You don’t even realise that you’re giggling until Sakura stirs next to you. 
you: i did thank uuuuuuu
you: sorry if i was weird though haha 
You say. Although all things considered, you can’t really think of anything to be haha-ing about but Jay’s reply comes so quickly that you barely have the time to dwell on this fact. “Nahhhh you were so cute dw,” he texts back. 
With your stomach doing somersaults, you turn over in the bed, burying your head in the pillow to muffle a squeal.
Sakura wakes up. 
While in the shower, you let the water hit you directly in the face for a bit with your eyes screwed tightly shut under the stream. And not a single thought occurs to you other than how cute Jay seems to think you are. 
jay: do you have class today
you: slept in
jay: L
jay: for me.. i wanted to see you again  
Your jaw falls open as you read the message, and over your shoulder, Yunjin lets out the gasp that you hadn’t been able to. “Oh, my God!” she says, watching as a cheek-aching smile creeps up on your lips. A small celebration ensues while the two of you squeal and kick your feet like children. And then your phone vibrates again.
jay: could still link if ur down?
jay: hold up 
Yunjin pulls air through her teeth. “Could still link if you’re down,” she reads before taking the phone from your hand. “Fuckboy text, ignore.” 
Knowing you’re not likely to win the argument that Jay’s not a fuckboy — even though he’s not one, you think — you roll your eyes. “So what if he’s a fuckboy?” you frown, pulling your knees to your chest. 
“If a fuckboy was supposed to be liked he’d be called a like boy,” Yunjin says as if reciting scripture. “Text Jaemin back if you want a fuckboy.” 
You don’t mean to groan out loud at her tone. “Jaemin’s not a fuckboy, he’s just.. a guy. Who.. likes to fuck.” 
The sound of the front door opening prompts you to pause the TV, and the two of you crane your necks towards the open doorway to hear what’s going on. It’s Chaewon giggling loudly before speaking. 
“Thanks for bringing me home.” 
A deep chuckle sounds through the hall. Jeno. Of course. “You’re my girl,” he says and his smile is audible through his words. “Why wouldn’t I?” 
Chaewon giggles at this too, and, pressing play on the remote, you share a look with Yunjin as you hear the beginning of a wet kiss. Brooklyn Nine-Nine gets through an entire cold open and the theme song before she – looking fresher than ever in her boyfriend’s sweatpants – joins you both on the couch. 
“What’d I miss?” she asks. 
“Yunjin thinks Jay’s a fuckboy.” 
Chaewon lets out a snort. “Well, yeah, anyone could’ve told you that, dude’s best friend is Lee Heeseung,” she says, though quickly changes her tune as if remembering her audience. “It’s all just rumours though, people see a good-looking guy who’s overly friendly and flirts with everybody, and posts obvious thirst traps to his Snapchat story, and just assume he’s a fuck boy..” she trails off, sinking a little in her seat.
Somewhat disheartened, you nod your head. “Right.” 
“So what did I miss?” Chaewon asks again, pointing at the TV this time. 
Still in Yunjin’s custody, your phone vibrates in her lap and she gasps as she reads the screen. “A reformed fuck boy?” she says, holding the phone up for you and Chaewon to read. 
jay: would you like to hang out with me later? 
You grin despite yourself, reading the message and reading it again before telling him “yes”, and later can’t come soon enough. The time slips by like molasses and you finally meet up with Jay -four decades- two hours later, with no set plan, at the library where he approaches you with Jake and a smile on his face. 
Friendly as ever, Jake chats with you and keeps a pretty smile on his lips the whole time. “If you ever have a hard time with physics or math based classes, I’ve got you,” he offers, clearly happy to hear that you’re in STEM too. 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tell him, grateful as you remember the tears you’d shed over a Construction Mathematics lecture last year. 
With a wave, Jake leaves the two of you alone, saying “See you later” before walking away. He excitedly glances over his shoulder to where you stand with Jay a few times. 
After telling you that he “knows a spot,” Jay takes you on a bit of a walk, successfully distracting you from the distance by keeping you talking. He listens enthusiastically while you ramble about a show you started, and you like the feeling in your chest when he says he’ll check it out. 
With a “ta-da,” Jay extends an arm to the gate in front of you. A play park. “We’re here!” he says, struggling to mask the excitement in his voice as he walks towards the empty play area. “It’s no fun when there’s kids here so I brought us the long way.” 
As you follow him through the gate, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous. The last time you’d been sober at a play park you were probably 15 or so, cutting through the park on your walk home from school with your friends. You’d spin the roundabout at lightspeed cackling at the screams of terror coming from those sitting on it, and talk about your crushes while calming down on the swings. 
Jay sits on one of the swings and watches you, and even though you’re not too sure what to talk about, you’re pretty sure confessing your crush on him as you sit next to him might send him running in the opposite direction. Instead, you clear your throat and look over at him. “So your “spot” is a play park?” you ask, using your feet to rock you back and forth. 
He pulls air through his teeth, scrunching his nose and tilting his head. “Would you prefer it if I took you to CP in the Sky?” 
If Jay had his car with him, you might have hoped for that. Most of the boys in your city who drive, including Jaemin, have been known to take girls to a spot they know. Super quiet, private, and almost as pretty as you, they’ll say, and take you up to ‘Car Park in the Sky’; the city’s most notorious hook-up spot. Though, Jaemin hadn’t exactly been secretive about wanting to hook up and actually only drove there after you’d told him about it. 
You shake your head. “The park is good, it’s great.” 
Conversation ebbs and flows between the two of you, the sounds of nature and the swings creaking keeping you company. It’s nice spending time with Jay like this. Sober. And not holed up in the library or a cafe with assignments and deadlines on your mind. 
You don’t mean to gain momentum but you do, swinging about as high as you can, gasping when you see a car over the top of a climbing frame. 
“What is it?” he asks, laughing to himself when you jump off the swing. 
“I wanna take a drive!” you call out over your shoulder, jogging over to the wooden stationary car you saw.
Jay’s footsteps sound after yours, and he grabs you by the wrist before you climb into the driver’s side. “Did you get your licence yet?” 
You shake your head, watching as his mouth falls open, bracing yourself for a lecture on how a girl of your age should be driving already. 
He looks aghast, in genuine distress before he speaks. “What makes you think I’m gonna let you drive?” Jay nods his head to the other side of the car. “Go.” 
Letting out the most exaggerated sigh you can manage, you comply, dragging your feet to the passenger side and climbing in. Jay follows suit, sitting down next to you on the small connected seat built with kids in mind, and his thigh presses up against yours. 
“Don’t be upset, everyone knows passenger princess is way more fun than actually driving.” 
And rationally, you know he’s not specifically calling you a princess but your tummy turns nonetheless. 
“Whatever,” you mumble, faking a sigh and struggling to suppress your laughter when he buckles a fake seat belt. Jay gives you a disapproving look when you don’t move to do the same. “Are you serious?” 
“As a heart attack,” he says solemnly, though you can see the smile teasing at his lips. “Better safe than sorry, that’s what I always say.” 
There’s nothing behind his words, no hidden meaning but you read into them anyway, hoping he can’t hear the way you gulp at the thought that plagues you. For some reason, you’ve chosen this hill to die on, shrugging at him and turning to look straight ahead. 
Jay sighs dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose before leaning over you to grab your ‘seat belt’ and buckle in by himself. He takes his time though, and the way he looks you dead in the eye makes you wish you’d just done it yourself. His face is close to yours, his breath warm against your skin, creating a welcome contrast to the cold air around you. He lingers for a beat before sitting up straight and clicking the belt into place. 
“Finally,” he whispers, putting an imaginary gear stick into reverse and draping his arm over the back of your connected seat. You can’t help but watch as he looks over your shoulders before moving the car, liking the way his side profile looks under the rapidly setting sun. Something stops him, he looks at you. “I can’t focus with you staring at me like that,” he says, taking his hand from the wheel to touch your cheek.
Your breath catches in your throat. Jay grins, gently turning your face away from him. You stare over at the roundabout and feel just as dizzy as you would have if you’d taken him up on his offer to spin you on it. 
Jay gets on with all the necessary checks before ‘starting’ the car and ‘driving’ off. “What are you thinking about?” 
It probably wouldn’t be appropriate to tell him that you’re thinking about the way it felt when he put his fingers to your cheek. Or how gentle he was with you, only pushing you a little bit and then guiding you the rest of the way. So you keep that to yourself. “The movies.” 
You hear Jay chuckling next to you. “All of them?” 
“Yeah,” you nod. “The drive-in kind. Have you been?” 
“I went once.” 
You gasp, excited. “Really? What did you see?” 
Jay thinks about it for a while. He thinks about it really hard before shaking his head, “You know, I don’t think I was paying much attention.” 
“You spent all that money on a ticket and didn’t even pay attention? What were you doing?” The words rush out before you can stop them and you cringe a little thinking about the possible answers. 
He turns his gaze back out on the road. “Sleeping,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. 
You wish you could go back in time to stop yourself from asking, finding an answer to the question: “Is it better to speak or to die?” 
“Hey, we can go to the drive-in right now! I just need to put this thing in park and we can watch any movie you want!” he says, stopping the car and turning as much as he can in his seat to face you. “Any movie that’s available with a Netflix subscription!” he adds, smiling when you do. 
Cramped together in the front seat of the stationary car, the two of you watch The Devil Wears Prada and get about halfway through before Jay’s phone hits 10% — and it’s probably the best movie watching experience you’ve ever had.  
You take Jay up on his offer to walk you home, and he chats with you about the movie, telling you how much he thinks it totally blows that Miranda Priestly isn’t a real person that he can work for after graduation, but he seems happy enough when you suggest that he could become Miranda Priestly.  
Reaching the familiar crossing by the student union, you look up at him. “If it’s easier, you can just head your way from here. I can literally see my building,” you offer, feeling bad about him walking so far out of his way. 
Jay scoffs like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “I’m not gonna make you walk by yourself.” 
“It’s barely five minutes,” you tell him, shaking your head. “You don’t have to.” 
“YN?” 
“Hm?”
A pretty smile spreads across his lips. “I want to, let’s go.” And Jay hardly gets to start telling you about his upcoming mock trial before you reach your flat. 
“This is me,” you say, pointing at the door to your building. 
He lets out a dry chuckle. “You’re kidding.”
You shake your head. He frowns, looking terribly cute with his lips turned down like that. Though it doesn’t last for long and he raises his brows when you gasp. “You know, we came from a place I’ve never been before, and I’m starting to think this might be the wrong street,” you say, struck by the sudden realisation. “We should probably walk around the block a couple more times, just to really be sure.” 
Listening to your words, Jay beams at you and it’s heavenly. “I heard it can actually take, like, 4 or 5 walks around the block if you want 100% certainty.” 
“Oh yeah,” you giggle. “I think I’ve heard that too. Should we make it 6?” 
“Perfect.” 
To your surprise, you’d both been wrong. As it would turn out, the required number of, very slow, walks around a student housing complex to be 100% sure, completely beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re at the right place is ten.
“Hey, uh, how about we do one more lap? Just to make sure? For the absolute best measure,” Jay suggests, eyes twinkling under the streetlamp. He almost looks a little nervous, burying his hands in his pockets as he watches you. 
“Sounds good.”
Just like your last few walks around the student housing block, fallen leaves rustle under your footsteps, and the back of Jay’s hand still brushes against yours, but this time feels different. Maybe because there’s a finality to this; the last lap. You couldn’t possibly ask him to spend any more time walking around here. Could you? 
“This neighbourhood is so cute, all the student apartments clustered together like this, I love it,” he says, looking over at you.
“It’s nice knowing that some of my friends, and the people I like partying with, live so close, but it’s always so noisy around here,” you tell him, continuing when he doesn’t speak. “‘Cause it’s all just a bunch of 18–20–somethings that live here, and The U’s just down the street. The noise is fun when I’m part of it, but when I’m studying or just trying to sleep it’s annoying.” 
“Don’t you think it’s kinda cool though? There’s always something happening. So even if the girls aren’t down to go out, you’re not exactly short on plans.”
You’d never really thought of it like that. Probably because Yunjin is always down to go out. But you like the way he puts it. You nod, reminded of your classmates who live in the building right next to where you’re walking. “Yeah, I should probably text Minjeong more.” 
“And if not you can always hit me and see what I’m doing,” he says at the same time. 
You stop walking, and your heart — feels like it — stops beating. 
Jay, noticing this, stands in front of you, hands help up defensively as he shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that, obviously. I just thought it’d be cool if you weren’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, maybe we could link and do nothing together,” he explains. “I’m stupid, sorry.”
This might be the first time you’ve ever heard Jay ramble like this, and your heart does a twirl just seeing his worried expression. “I think if I’m not doing anything, and you’re not doing anything, then it’d be cool for us to link and do nothing together, Jay,” you smile, liking the way he visibly relaxes, his shoulders falling slightly and an exhale curling out of his mouth and into the air.
“Cool.” 
When, for the 11th time, you reach your building, you turn to Jay and hesitate a little, unsure of what to say. Glancing at him, it looks as though he’s feeling the same way. A silence falls over the two of you. 
Finally, Jay speaks. “Goodnight,” he says, pulling you into a hug. 
Despite your surprise, you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him close. You hope he can’t feel the way your heart is racing. Or the way it starts to pick up when you catch a whiff of his scent. Warm and cosy, tempting in a strange way that you can’t quite put your finger on but you like all the same. 
When Jay lets go of you, you look up at him almost instinctively. You don’t mean to stare at his lips but you do, gulping at how close they are. You want to kiss him. Not any more than usual, but the urge is there. “Goodnight,” you say, taking a step back and walking up the path to the door.
Using your key fob, you unlock the door, turning to look over your shoulder and thankfully finding Jay still standing there, watching you with a stomach-turning smile on his face. “I had a really nice time tonight,” you say, smiling back. 
“Yeah?”
You nod. “We should hang out more.”
“I think so too.” 
“Cool,” you smile, biting your lip. “Goodnight, Jay.” 
“Goodnight, YN.” 
“Could you, text me? When you get home, so I know you’re, like, safe.” 
Jay beams at you, nodding his head. “Of course.” 
After a week (eleven days) of texting and hanging out with Jay when you can, you find yourself spending 3 hours of your Friday afternoon taking notes in your Sustainable Development lecture, and coming to the realisation that none of the course content is relevant to the report you’re trying to get through. 
Seeing Jay leaning on the wall outside your class when you leave is a welcome surprise; he wears a thin pair of glasses and a smile that makes your heart stutter a bit as he stands up straighter, greeting you when he sees you and quickly falling into your step. “I meant to ask you earlier, are you going to the game on Saturday?” A beat passes. “Football,” he clarifies. “First home game of the season.” 
“Maybe if my friends are going.” 
Jay seems to think about this for a moment as you round the corner at the end of the corridor and he holds the door to the stairwell open. “After you.” 
You mumble a thank you and count six steps before he speaks again. 
“I’m going,” Jay informs you, his hand meeting the back of his neck to scratch awkwardly at it. “I mean, I’m gonna be on the pitch but.. I’ll be there.” 
A breathy laugh slips from your lips at this added information; how sweet of the football team’s captain to let you know that he’ll be at his team’s football game on Saturday. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
“I just think it’d be cool to see a friendly face in the crowd when I score the winning goal.” 
Given Jay’s unending kindness, you imagine that most of the faces in the crowd — or at least the ones from your uni — will be friendly, especially if he scores the winning goal. The thought causes a smile to itch at your lips as you consider that maybe he means that it’d be cool to see your friendly face in the crowd. And who could say no to that? 
The rest of the conversation goes smoothly and Jay slows down when you reach the second floor. “I have some admin shit to work out, but I’ll see you at the game?” he asks, watching you with hopeful eyes and chewing on his bottom lip.
Knowing full well that you’ll be there, you pretend to think about it for a moment. “Maybe.”
Jay chuckles at this, tilting his head. “Please?” 
“Maybe,” you repeat, despite already planning your outfit. Did you wash your white shirt or will you be doing laundry tonight? You wave at Jay when he waves and make your way down the rest of the stairs while clicking mindlessly through Instagram stories. 
Nothing interests you until you reach IG user onyourm__ark's story; a picture of IG user 39saku_chan in his football jersey. You hit the like button and pretend to believe that the song choice (Infrunami by Steve Lacy) was made purely out of sheer enjoyment of the artist’s early work.
With a smile on your face, you text the group chat to solidify your weekend plans.
you: are u going to the football game tmrw
cw: not even if u paid me
yj: hard no
yj: i’m going to the party AFTER the game though
yj: why?
you: it’s nothing dw
cw: ???
you: jay invited me..
The chill of October’s first evening is unkind on your face as you sit amongst the rowdiness of drunk uni kids, cheering and groaning in unison as the game trudges on, and somehow Kazuha manages to sleep through it all with her head on your shoulder. 
“Fuuuuck,” Yunjin groans, shivering in the seat next to you. “I hate sports.” 
“Says the captain of the hockey team,” you say, voice coming out muffled behind the top of your jacket.
“Playing and watching are, like, completely different.” 
You’re sure Yunjin’s right, she has to be, but you have to admit that there’s something more than slightly entertaining about watching a group of boys chasing a ball around and yelling expletives at one another, all while number 99 keeps a huge grin on his face, laughing at his teammate’s temper. Or lack thereof. 
However, the novelty wears off at around 8:45 when the ref calls for half-time; a chill runs down your spine as you’re struck with the realisation that university football games are full-length. But other than Yunjin’s teasing, there’s no use pretending that you hate the sight of Jay lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
As the players retreat from the pitch and some students start to clear the stands, Yunjin gets up to stretch. She hums along to the song playing while you watch from your seat with aching knees, slightly envious and trying not to move too much and wake up Kazuha who sleeps soundly on your shoulder. 
With her arms above her head, Yunjin lets out a yawn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’d really rather be doing a reading for marketing than be here any longer.”
“And I’d rather be helping you out,” you say, frowning a little when Kazuha stirs. “Hey, what do you think they do during half-time?” you ask distractedly. 
She thinks about it for a beat, eyes flicking to the pitch before looking back to you. “We usually strategise, use the bathroom, get water — quick things like that,” she says, raking a hand through her hair, watching as you shift a little in your seat to get your phone from your pocket when it vibrates. “They have a lot longer than we do though.” 
jay: are you having fun?
you: yeah you guys are great, good game so far :)
Yunjin scrunches up her nose as she reads the exchange. “God, you’re so boring,” she sighs, taking the phone from your hands, and typing something before showing the screen to you. 
“We should link at the party later,” you read, scoffing as you take it back and delete the message. “I’d never say that.” In those words. 
jay: hahaha i think you might be my good luck charm 
A dramatic gasp comes from a now-awake Kazuha. “Don’t reply!” 
You heed this advice, joining her as she stands up to stretch as well. 
“Look how much fun they’re having,” Kazuha sighs, pointing over at Sakura and Chaewon in their seats close to the pitch. They dance along to the music blaring through the speakers and laugh so loudly you can hear them despite their distance. “Why didn’t we join them?” 
You think about it for a bit, filled with regret. “At the time, pregaming before the game and then pregaming again before the party seemed intense but..” you trail off, watching your friends clutch their stomachs in laughter. “Next time.” 
“Next time,” Kazuha repeats, slouching in her seat. “I’m clearing your drink supply when we get back.” There’s a frown on her face when she speaks but she’s quick to perk up at the sound of your text tone, grabbing the phone for herself. 
jay: are you coming tn? got a feeling that congrats will be in order
you (technically kazuha): wouldn’t miss it !!! 
“Three exclamation points? I’m not that desperate,” you say defensively, nudging her in the ribs. 
As if on cue, Yunjin reads another text. “I saw his notes again, his handwriting is so cute and ugly, agh I’m literally clutching my chest, he’s perfect,” she says, her voice high-pitched and mocking. 
Hearing your typed words out loud from someone else’s mouth is troubling, especially because “It never seems that bad when I’m typing,” you frown, immediately checking your phone when it goes off. 
jay: awesome :) see u there 
jay: !!!
The game’s second half goes by much quicker and in the end, they lose 5-3, leaving you and Yunjin struggling to keep your laughter to yourselves at the sight of the FIRST W OF THE SEASON banner hanging up in the living room of the house that most of the footballers share. With linked arms, the two of you make your way to the kitchen to get something to drink. Already feeling the buzz from pregaming, you settle on a cup of lemonade which Yunjin rolls her eyes at. 
“Shut up,” you say, eyeing her over the rim of your cup. 
Yunjin holds her hands up defensively, spilling a few drops of her tequila-vodka concoction. “I didn’t even say anything.” For a couple of minutes, you pretend to listen as Yunjin tries to come up with a game plan for the night, nodding and humming along when she pauses, and trying to decipher the animal code names she’s using. A gasp. “I see him! Black cat and penguin sitting out on the half wall.” 
You watch as she leans over the sink to get a closer look out of the window. “I feel like saying exactly where they are makes the code names redundant.” 
“I feel like you’re redundant.” A beat passes. “Just be yourself, and if he says something funny, laugh and put your hand on his bicep while you do.” 
“Noted.”
Yunjin doesn’t let you go outside without taking a sip (or three) of the poison in her cup, and after you gag over the sink, the two of you make your way into the garden, sights set on the half wall where “black cat” now sits alone. A potent mixture of the scent of tobacco and weed hits you the second you open the back door, and the two of you leave the house to make a beeline to Jay, apparently to Yunjin’s displeasure, given the way she asks you three times to play beer pong with her when some of the basketball boys start setting up cups for the next round.
“No,” you say. Three times. 
As if sensing your presence, Jay whips his head around right before the two of you reach him, a bright smile gracing his face as he waves at you with his whole arm. He seems to glow against the darkness of the night, bright, dreamy, an unreal quality that leaves you feeling fuzzy around the edges. Jay, you think, over and over and it starts to sound made up. Jay. Jay. Jay. Until you reach him. He stands up when you guys are close enough. “You’re here,” Jay says with a smile, pulling you into a hug. With his arms around your waist, his hold is somehow both tight and gentle. Secure. Safe. 
“Hey,” you say, voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. A whiff of his scent hits you, flooding your senses. Fresh, citrusy, and undeniably Jay. A dizzying combination, so light, and distinctly him in a way that makes your heart beat a bit faster. 
When Jay lets go of you to hug Yunjin, you take the last sip of your drink and almost wish you’d taken her cup instead; your lemonade is sweet to the tongue but does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence. You watch as they greet each other while Jay sits back down. Standing in front of him with your arm against Yunjin’s, you feel as though you've missed the window to sit down too and opt to continue standing next to her. 
“We like your banner,” you say, pointing in the direction of the house behind him. 
Following your finger, Jay lets his head whip around towards the back of the house. Yunjin uses the time he spends looking over his shoulder to nudge you, nod her head in his direction, and mouth the word “sit” at you. So you do.
If he’s surprised to turn back around barely a second later and find you right beside him, Jay doesn’t show it. He gives you a warm smile and knocks his knee against yours before speaking. “What, first w of the season?” He tilts his head. “And here I thought you were a good luck charm, twenty,” he says with a chuckle when you nod. 
Yunjin’s brows raise, and you feel yours rise too. “Twenty?” she asks. 
“The hockey jacket,” he answers without missing a beat. “Speaking of, when’s your next game?” 
“Oh, we’re playing the Foxes next week,” Yunjin rakes a hand through her hair. “TDU, you know?” 
Jay nods, turning his attention back to you. “Can I look forward to seeing you on the field, twenty?” 
Tilting your head, you pull air through your teeth. “You know what, I actually just got benched, like, right now,” you say, liking the way Jay laughs. “I’m out for the rest of the season.” 
After clapping a hand to his mouth, Jay points at you. “Did they get you on a drunk and disorderly after the mixer?” he asks through a laugh. 
In horror, you watch while Yunjin’s head falls back with laughter as she lets out cackles that only unsettle you. “That’s exactly what happened!”
“I was not.. disorderly,” you say meekly, finding sudden interest in the hem of your skirt.
It sounds as though Jay says: “You didn’t tell her how she got back home?” though you’re finding it difficult to focus on much other than trying to recover your missed hours after the hockey mixer. 
You’ve gone on countless nights out, spent many mornings after vowing never to drink again, and, on multiple occasions, have gotten too drunk to enter the club. But even then, in the past, your memory has only ever been.. spotty, nonlinear. Never completely void for hours at a time, and it’s concerning. After tonight, you really won’t drink again. 
Except on birthdays. 
And when you go to the club. Or to parties. Or when you’re bored with the girls. But again, apart from that? Never. 
“How did I g—” you start, though Yunjin cuts you off. 
“I think Zuha’s lifting her leg again, hold on,” she groans, looking over Jay’s shoulder at the glass doors leading to the kitchen. Yunjin disappears back into the house and it’s not until you watch her slide the back door shut behind her that you remember Kazuha having too much to drink at pres and having to stay in with Chaewon. 
When you look at Jay, he watches you with knitted brows. “Kazuha’s doing what?” he asks. 
“Ballet,” you explain. He nods. 
Neither of you speak for a moment. While you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help but wonder if you should’ve followed Yunjin, or if you should’ve had less to drink at the mixer. You reckon the fact that Jay’s still talking to you must mean you didn’t do anything that you can’t recover from, but you can’t shake the feeling that your trip home that night was less than pleasant. 
“Hey,” Jay says quietly, catching your attention with concern lacing his features. “What do you look so down for?” he asks. 
Though terrified of the answer, you repeat your earlier question. “How did I get home?” you ask, wondering if the Earth usually opened up to swallow people whole or if you’d have to put in a special request.
Jay licks his lips, using his hand to push your shoulder playfully. “I have no idea,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I was talking to Yunjin at the library on Tuesday, I think, and she told me you can’t remember anything. I just wanted to freak you out.” 
You feel heat under his touch and relief from his words, though something about him talking with Yunjin seems to jostle you slightly. “Yunjin was at the library?”
Briefly, what looks like disappointment flashes across Jay’s face, replaced quickly with a pretty smile, light, playful. “You care more about Yunjin being at the library than me asking your friend about you?” he asks.
“You were asking my friend about me?” 
“Yeah, I think you’re cute,” Jay says sweetly, smiling at you in a way that makes your cheeks burn even when you look down at your lap. 
There’s something about the way he says it, so casually as if telling you the time or today’s date, that throws you off. It doesn’t make any sense to you that some of the most vivid sensations that Jay makes you feel are just that: sensations. You know that your stomach doesn’t actually have butterflies in it and that your heart isn’t really twirling in your chest, but it sure feels like it. You wonder if he also feels like that sometimes. You earnestly hope that if he does, it’s because of you.
He seems nearer than before when you look at him, and for fear that you might kiss him if he gets any closer, you bring your empty cup to your lips, lean back a little, and pretend to sip. Its emptiness isn’t lost on Jay, however, who chuckles, asking if you want a refill. While walking towards the house, you listen as he tells you what the team normally get up to during half-time (mostly strategising and pretending not to hear Heeseung’s snores), and silently beg your cheeks to cool down. His hand is heavy on the small of your back as he ushers you inside first, sliding the door shut behind him, and gently pushing you towards the kitchen island. 
You let yourself lean against the counter, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach as you watch him reach for a visibly sticky bottle of your favourite drink without asking what you’d like. Though before actually touching it, his eyes widen. “Wait, I have something for you,” he says, holding out a hand for you to take. “Come on.” 
Jay weaves his fingers with yours, leading you through the house and up the stairs into a bedroom. He closes the door gently behind you, stepping over a couple of backpacks before sitting on the end of the bed, and tugging at the zipper on one of them. 
For a moment you watch as veins appear on his hands and have to physically tell yourself to drag your eyes to anything else, eventually settling on the walls. Walls that are covered in countless glossy 4x6 prints, some shots of landscapes, groups of people, out-of-focus beer bottles and.. “You have a lot of photos of Mark Lee in here,” you comment, scanning the room around you. “And it doesn’t look like you’re.. in any of them,” you continue as you notice a grainy polaroid stuck to the wall next to the light switch — a picture of Mark making out with his best friend, Sakura “give me a break, a boy and a girl can be just friends” Miyawaki, and make a mental note to bring it up later. 
Jay glances at you as if you’re the one sleeping in a Markkura shrine. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s his room,” he chuckles. “You can sit down, you know,” he adds after a beat, moving over a bit on the bed. 
With a nod, you look at some more of the pictures as you make your way over to the spot next to him, a photo of Mark and Jake with their middle fingers to the camera catching your eye. And holding it for so long that you trip a little over one of the backpacks before sitting down and pretending nothing happened. Thankfully, Jay doesn’t seem to notice. 
“It’s not much by the way, don’t get your hopes up,” he warns, his hand still hidden by the fabric of his bag. 
“Got it.” 
Despite his earlier disclaimer, he makes a show of the whole thing. “Ta-da!” His voice is a little singsong as he brings the obje—bottle of Smirnoff Ice into view. 
“Thank you?” The bottle is cold in your hands when you take it from him, reading the ABV 4% on its label and wondering how many of these Sunghoon must have had to drink to have been stumbling the way he was that night. You also can’t help but wonder what reason Jay has for buying you a bottle and then taking you into the privacy of Mark’s bedroom to give it to you.
“Yeah,” he trails off a little, letting his hand come up to scratch the back of his neck. “You looked pretty crushed the other night when Heeseung finished that one bottle.” 
You can’t help the scoff that comes out. “Crushed? I mean, I might’ve frowned.” 
“Frowned? You were near tears, I was worried about you.” 
“Shut up.” 
“I’m serious, every time I looked at you, you had this.. upset look on your face.” 
“Well, maybe you should stop looking at me so much.”
Jay’s eyes sparkle under the light, flicking back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he brings a hand up to your face, tucking some hair behind your ear, his fingers hot on your skin, unmoving. His eyes lock with yours. “Come on,” he says in a low voice. “You know there’s no stopping that.” 
A smile tugs at your lips. Jay bites his. His gaze drops back down to your mouth. Lingers. And in what almost seems like an alcohol-induced hallucination, he leans in. Slightly. As if testing the waters. As if waiting for a sign that you want him to stop. A sign that you want him to continue. Anything. His hand is heavy on your cheek when he cups it in his palm, skin rough against yours. 
Mere inches away, Jay’s lips seem more tempting than ever. Separated only by the distance of a breath and your nerves, you try to settle yourself. To put your heart at ease. But how could you relax when he looks at you like that; his gaze soft, tender, all of his attention on y—The bottle slips from your hands, cool against your thighs, reminding you of its existence. Jay flinches when you do. 
“Let’s have a drink!” you suggest, though the absence you feel when he takes his hand from your face makes you wish you hadn’t.
“Sure.”
The cap screws off the bottle with a few satisfying clicks, and Jay, amused, shakes his head when you offer him the first sip. “After you,” he says. 
Without a second thought, the bottle touches your lips and the sweet, sweet taste of Smirnoff Ice touches your tongue, coating your mouth and leaving you wishing the alcohol content was higher. 
“Do you mind if I put my lips on it?” he asks while you pass the drink to him. 
You shake your head, determined not to think of a double meaning, and watch as his lips connect with the bottle’s opening, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat while he drinks. When Jay pulls it from his mouth, he lets his tongue dart out to wet his lips. You wonder if it will taste different in his mouth, if his lips, wet from the drink, taste as sweet as they look. 
Now that you realise you’ve shared an indirect kiss, you kick yourself for passing up the chance at a direct one, deciding that if you want him to kiss you, you’ll need to get closer. Step up your game a little. Maybe you’ll say something about his necklace, ask to get a better look.. And hopefully, he’ll take the hint and kiss you because you’re not really sure what else you could say. 
Of course, you could opt to skip words altogether, taking his face in your hands, and pressing your lips to his. You’re sure that’s what Yunjin would do. And you’re sure that would be her advice to you if you asked her.
Jay hands the bottle back to you and you close it, determined to feel his lips on yours if it’s the last thing you do. And you quickly open the bottle again, one last sip for good luck. The soft laugh he lets out is breathy, and it’s hard to tell if the heat in your stomach is coming from the drink, or from the way you see him looking at you in your peripheral. 
His straight teeth bite at his bottom lip, and he shakes his head when you offer him another sip. This time when you close the bottle, you do it for good, setting the glass on the floor so it doesn’t interrupt you again. 
“I really like your necklace,” you say, off to a good start, following the plan. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.”
“Aw.. thanks,” he says, choosing now, of all times, to stop being a conversationalist. 
In the quiet of the room, you realise that you hadn’t planned anything beyond the compliment. You let your eyes focus back on the charm hanging from his neck, trying to picture him with a fishing rod in his hand, and wellington boots on his feet. It doesn’t really work. “I didn’t realise you were so into fishing,” you blurt out, and the way he knits his brows together makes you wish you’d just grabbed him and planted a kiss on the lips he purses to the side while watching you. 
“Me?” 
“Yeah you, with your cute little hook on a chain.” 
Jay squints at you. “Hook on a chain?” he repeats. 
You let a hand reach up and press on the hook pendant on his necklace. 
His shoulders rise and fall dramatically as he sighs, his hand coming up to wrap around yours, holding it to the base of his neck as the small (not) hook warms in your fist. “Why does everybody think it’s a hook?” 
“It isn’t?” 
“It’s the letter J.” He lets go of your hand to lift the charm. “See?” 
You squint your eyes, leaning a little closer to him, gaze fixed on the little gold hook letter sitting near the base of his neck. “Ohhhh, right,” you say, but even from a few inches away, it still looks like a hook, and from this close, you can hear the way his breath hitches in his throat.
With an inhale, you find yourself lingering. Sticking around just long enough to make out the woodier notes of his cologne before moving back a little. Finally, you draw your eyes away from his neck, wanting to meet his gaze but finding yourself stuck on his lips instead. They sit slightly ajar, pink, pretty, sort of chapped in the way they always seem to be. His breath tickles your forehead. You sit straighter, noticing the way his eyes burn holes into you. 
“Quit staring,” you mumble hypocritically. 
Jay’s brows quirk up for a split second as he sits back on his hands. “I’m not.”
“You are.” 
“Well, you’d have to be staring at me to know.” 
“Do you want me to stop staring?”
He seems to consider this for a second before shaking his head. “No,” he tells you. 
“What do you want then?” Your voice is soft when you ask. 
“I wanna kiss you.” 
Jay’s lips don’t move but you hear the word “really” being spoken out into the room like a question. Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and doesn’t fully register until Jay says: “Yeah,” so softly that it’s practically a whisper. 
Jay wants.. to kiss you. You feel your breath catch in your throat and it seems even more ridiculous to think it than to have heard it from him. To see his lips move to form the words. I wanna kiss you, he’d said. You’d heard it. You’d seen it. It happened. He wants.. to kiss you. 
“Do you want me to do that?” he asks, leaning in slightly, his hand rising to cup your cheek. Slower, gentler than last time. 
You let your gaze meet his; regret flooding you immediately. Just as kind and soft as the rest of him, Jay’s eyes stare into yours, warm, and inviting, but, still, you can’t shake off your nerves. More than anything, you want to say yes; to say of course, can’t you tell? but you don’t trust yourself enough to open your mouth and speak to him. Instead, you nod, so slightly that for a moment you wonder if he even noticed. And then, there, in the dim privacy of Mark Lee’s bedroom, while your heart beats out of your chest, Jay kisses you for the first time. 
His lips are warm against yours, the sweet taste of Smirnoff Ice only amplified as he holds you close. Soft, gentle, kissing Jay is everything you’d imagined it would be. You feel as though you might melt under his touch as his hand grabs your waist to pull you closer. So close that you’re nearly in his lap as he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving along yours.
It doesn’t feel real, it can’t be. 
As if thrown by your thoughts, Jay pulls away. While attempting to form a coherent thought, you catch your breath, once again, regretting looking at him. He looks down the bridge of his nose at you with half-lidded eyes, and his pretty, pink lips sit parted, wet and plump from kissing. Jay leans in almost immediately, the moment cut short by his lips on yours once again. 
It’s tangible this time; you couldn’t possibly make up the way his hand grips your ass or the way he groans softly when you whine into his mouth. He’s real, and he’s kissing you, and you only feel yourself growing dizzier, and dizzier the longer his lips move against yours. A gasp pulls you out of it and the two of you separate.
Looking in the direction of the now open door you see Sakura and Mark hand in hand. You can’t help the slight embarrassment that hits you at first, hating that, of all people, it had to be Mark to walk in and find you making out with someone on his bed. 
Though you get a bit distracted seeing him and Sakura like this, they look cute together. His football hoodie covers her form completely, much longer than the dress she has on, as she leans into him, and a giggle slips from her lips when he lets go of her hand to wrap an arm around her waist instead. 
Somewhat belatedly, and needlessly, Mark apologises, his eyes focused on you when he speaks but you can’t get the words out to respond to him. Jay chuckles at this, shaking his head and telling him not to worry about it as he stands up from the bed. You follow suit. Jay picks up your drink from the floor and takes you by the hand, telling Mark he’ll text him later while leading you out of the room. When you glance at Sakura, she’s grinning at you, mouthing: “Sorry,” before smacking your butt. 
Jay hands you the bottle when the door closes, his hand slipping out of yours. A beat passes. And then another. He chews at his bottom lip. You clear your throat and the silence continues. It’s a shame to be standing around like idiots on the landing like this, you think. 
“I..” he trails off, wiping his hands on his pants. He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I should get back to the boys.” 
Your heart sinks as you hesitate, unsure how to respond. Slowly, you nod. “Right, yeah,” you say.
“Later,” he mumbles, holding up his hand to wave stiffly at you before turning around to leave. 
Deflated, you lean against Mark’s door while you search for your phone to ask Yunjin where she is. Maybe if you’d waited for a moment, you’d have seen the way Jay stopped at the top of the stairs to look over at you, seen the frown on his face when he saw that you weren’t looking at him. But instead, you read 2 texts from Yunjin. 
yj: dude heso into u 
yj: flirt more = hv fun upstairs 
You spend the next three days pretending nothing happened at the party, avoiding Jay, and dreading going to uni. It’s just unfortunate that for you, pretending nothing happened looks like zoning out in the library while replaying the kiss in your head until your elbow slips off the desk. And avoiding Jay seems near impossible, given his tendency to show up everywhere. Or rather, your tendency to see Jay in everything. 
Like the tiny little black cat you saw perched on the fence outside your apartment building, and the busker singing Harry Styles in the city centre. And the half-full bottle of Smirnoff Ice from that night that sits on your dresser with your perfume and jewellery, displayed with about as much sentiment as a trophy won at school for a random achievement. 
Impulsively, you post a selfie to your Instagram story before hiding your phone under your pillow and leaving the room entirely, making yourself comfortable atop the kitchen counter and waiting for someone to come back home. 
Chaewon gets home first, and quickly, arriving with a groan as she shrugs her jacket off and shuts the door behind her. “I hate uni,” she mutters. “I hate studying, I ha— Hey.” She jumps a little when she sees you in the kitchen. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, where’ve you been hiding?” 
“My room.” 
She nods, leaning comfortably against the doorframe. “You’re not going out tonight, right?” 
You shake your head, amused by the look of relief that paints Chaewon’s features as she whispers thank God. “I’m gonna shower, and take a nap,” she informs you. “But when I wake up, it’s you, me, pizza, and whatever story Yunjin has from practice.” 
“Can’t wait,” you say sincerely, stepping down from the counter. 
With a wide smile on her face, she salutes you before dragging her feet to the bathroom. Completely endeared, you decide not to comment on the salute even though you think it’s sweet that she’s starting to copy her boyfriend. 
The sounds of student housing on a Wednesday evening seep in through the open window as you pour yourself a glass of water, unable to stop wondering if Jay saw your story; and what he thought about it if he did. Wondering if he’d notice that the picture was from Saturday night. 
Filling up your glass again, you take it to your room and pull your phone out of hiding. Along with a message from Yunjin telling you and Chaewon to order your food so it comes shortly after she gets home, you find that Jay hit like on your story. Then sent a reply ten minutes later saying: you’re sooo gorgeous.
With a smile on your face, you type out various forms of “thank you so much, you’re perfect,” before settling on a simple: thank uuu :D, and Jay’s response is immediate. 
jay: i don’t think i’ve said that before
jay: how prettty i think you are
The heat that rises to your cheeks is troubling, yet despite your best efforts, you can’t get it to pass. Especially not when you read and reread Jay’s message. You press your eyes shut, willing the heat to pass, willing the grin on your face to fade. Neither works, in fact, they only worsen when you open your eyes to see the new messages waiting for you in the chat. 
jay: it’s a lot bte 
jay: *btw 
You let out a romcom-worthy sigh, clutching the phone to your chest and laying down on the bed. A glow-in-the-dark sticker stares back at you from its spot on your ceiling, a single star that you’d won as a set of two at the arcade with Kazuha in December. The memory brings a smile to your face, even though you remember being a little annoyed after she turned down the other star when you tried giving it to her.
Another message from Jay makes your phone vibrate in your hands. 
jay: sorrry 
you: it’s okay 
You tell him. Even though you’re not sure what he’s apologising for. Just like before, Jay reads the message immediately though this time his reply never comes.
With Yunjin now home from practice, and freshly showered, you sit on the couch with your flatmates, talking and laughing over the sound of the TV for hours until Netflix asks if you’re still watching, and Yunjin’s passed out with her cold, wet hair on your shoulder.  
Pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, Chaewon retires to bed, whispering “Goodniiiiiiiiight,” in your ear before abandoning you. Tired as you are, a part of you feels bad about waking Yunjin so you decide to sit a while longer, moving the blanket from your lap to cover her up properly. But of course, this is the movement that wakes her up. 
In a soft voice, you tell her goodnight, standing up from the couch to stretch your arms above your head. 
“You never told me what happened on Saturday,” Yunjin says tiredly. “Kkura told me you and Jay were busy in Mark’s room.” 
The mention of his name takes you back to that night. Back to Jay and the way his lips felt against yours, the way his hand held your waist, and the way he’d ditched you outside Mark’s room. A pit forms in your stomach; and as if reading your mind, Yunjin asks if you’re okay.
You sit down on the other end of the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest and telling the story from top to bottom. After recounting the night in detail from after she left you guys alone, you find yourself hyperaware of the differences between you and Yunjin. For you, the highlight of Saturday night was Jay kissing you and then running away after. 
“Wait, Sakura and who?” she asks when you’re done. 
For Yunjin, the highlight of the story seems to be Mark’s presence. 
“Mark.” 
“She told me she went on her own, what were they doing?” 
Although you have some idea, you think it best to keep your knowledge to yourself. “They were looking for her phone,” you say, pleased to see that Yunjin accepts your answer and moves on. 
“So then what?”
“He texted me hey on Sunday morning, which I ignored, and then a couple hours ago he replied to my story and told me how pretty he thinks I am,” you say, pausing to take a breath. “Then ignored my response.” 
Yunjin sits silently, seeming to take in everything she’d just been told. Her eyes are focused on the TV screen ahead so you look over at it too. It had gone into standby mode, displaying nothing but an indistinct impression of the two of you. 
And the silence continues. 
In the TV’s cast, you can just about make out the way she tilts and then turns her head to look at you. “Maybe he’s just.. frazzled, or something, from being walked in on. How did you feel?” 
The answer takes a while to come up with because for you, the night exists in two parts — Before kissing Jay, and everything else that happened when you left the room. This whole time, you’ve been so focused on him leaving, that you’ve barely given any thought to how you felt when Sakura opened the door. Frazzled, you think. Probably the best word to use. Embarrassed suits a bit better though. 
“I was embarrassed about it, but only because it was Mark. If it had been you, or Chaewon, whoever, it would’ve been different because they’d walk in and go “oh sorry” or something and leave, but obviously, when it’s Mark going into his own room, he’s there for something, you know?” you explain, chewing at your bottom lip.
“Maybe that’s how he feels too.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t embarrassing enough to leave and never talk to him again.” 
Yunjin exhales heavily. “I want to be on your side, really, I do, but isn’t that kinda what you did?” she asks, her voice hesitant as she tilts her head. “He texted you the next day and you didn’t reply, what do you think he’s thinking about right now?” 
“He’s the one who said he should get back to the boys.”
“What if that’s just because he spoke first?” she suggests. “Obviously we don’t know what you would’ve said if you spoke first, because you didn’t, but I feel like you would’ve been like “I-I’m gonna get back to the girls” and ran away.” 
Always correct, Yunjin is your worst enemy and your best friend rolled into one. Oh, how you hate her. Well, she’s correct about the fact that you would have said the same thing. You think. You press your lips together in a straight line and sink into your seat. 
She sighs when you don’t speak. “Look, he talked to you today, and told you how pretty you are, which is a win, right?” 
You nod reluctantly. 
“So let’s celebrate that, celebrate the fact that you kissed Jay! Even better, the fact that he kissed you.” Yunjin pauses, for what you think is dramatic effect, before speaking again. “Just.. don’t sweat the small stuff, okay?” She stops again to yawn. “And text him back if he reaches out, or, text him first.” 
Leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, you brush your teeth, watching as Yunjin does the same, sitting on the edge of the tub with her eyes shut. While gargling mouthwash, you think about the conversation you’ve just had and decide to take matters into your own hands. By pleading with God to put Jay in front of you and have him tell you that he likes you back. 
Once again, the higher powers seem to be on your side. Kind of. Jay does end up in front of you to tell you that he likes you back. Kind of. But only after learning that you’ll have to start your report again; which, given that you’d only gotten through 800 of the required 4000 words, wasn't exactly criminal. It was an irritation that settled in you, mainly, as all of your research and the sources you’d found were now redundant in the face of such adversity. 
Nonetheless, with heavy feet, you leave the lecture hall, trying to come up with a way to fake your graduation ceremony next year so you can secretly drop out. You draw a blank and find Jay waiting in line at the vending machine near the library’s entrance. 
Even though you’d spoken with her on Tuesday night, here, today, on Friday afternoon, Yunjin’s words echo so clearly in your mind you almost want to peer over your shoulder to see if she’s there. You do. She isn’t. 
Your formerly heavy feet lead you right over to Jay, who greets you with a smile. “How’s the report coming?” he asks, his tone light, easygoing, and clearly oblivious to the fact that his question strikes you like a knife to the gut. 
The two of you shuffle forward slightly, now at the front of the queue. Waiting for your response, he punches E6 into the machine that rattles loudly, delivering his bottle of Lipton lemon. 
“Not great,” you tell him, feigning nonchalance and watching as he presses E4 before squatting down to collect both drinks. “Are you heading to class?” 
Standing up straight, Jay holds out the new(er) bottle of Lipton peach towards you. “What happened?” 
Holding the drink in your hands, you fall into step with him and sigh despite yourself. “I have to start over.” 
Jay’s eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly at your words. Dramatic. Cute. “Nooo,” he says sincerely. “How come?”
“I read the question wrong.”
“Oh,” he says. “That’s okay, at least you found out now rather than later. And you still have until December to get it done, that’s almost two months! I’m sure most people haven’t even read the question,” he tells you in a gentle voice. 
There’s a fuzziness in your chest, and Jay’s words make you feel like everything will be alright. Even though you weren’t exactly cut up about the report, something about talking with him about it leaves you feeling soothed when you look up to give him a warm smile.
“I don’t have classes today, I’m just here to study,” he says, answering your earlier question as he leads you to a table. 
You watch as Jay sits down, and decide to take a seat across from him, dumping your bag on the floor at your feet. His brows quirk up when you put the drink down on his side of the table, confusion evident in his voice when he says: “You don’t like peach tea anymore?” 
All of a sudden your heart is pounding, and you grin despite yourself. Oh, Jay, you think. “It’s my favourite.” 
Matching your smile Jay slides the bottle over to you. “It’s yours,” he says.
You can’t explain the overwhelming sense of gratitude you feel over a barely cold, 500ml bottle of tea, but it beams brightly on the table between you; radiant, glowy, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “Thank you,” you say sincerely in a soft voice, lest you knock the bottle out of its haze. 
The deepest part of your brain romanticises the scene around you even further, and the table you sit at, in the smallest library on campus, starts to seem like something from a kid’s storybook. From a mythical land where the iced tea is luminescent, and you get to study with an angel who wears Chrome Hearts pants and olive green 6s.
“Can I read it when you’re done?” His question cuts through your thoughts. Surprised by how genuine Jay sounds, you glance back over at him to find him already looking at you, his lips pushed up into a soft smile that spreads flutters around your chest.
It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to realise what he’s talking about, but you tilt your head when you do. “You wanna read my paper on wind turbines and solar farms?” you ask. 
Jay’s eyes widen briefly as if shocked that you’re even asking him that. “Of course I do,” he says, sounding almost offended, defensive maybe. 
You eye him from across the table, sceptical. Jay seems to pick up on this. “Why wouldn’t I want to know about the UN’s advances towards net zero by 2030?” he asks, chuckling to himself when you raise a brow. He shrugs. “I got curious after you mentioned it.” 
With burning cheeks, you watch him as he continues to talk, neither of you making any effort to start on the work you’re there to do. As much as you feel it’d be useful to get work done in the library — because it’ll allow you to go home and do nothing without guilt — you don’t see the point in half-assing your research and absentmindedly chatting with Jay, when you could ditch the research completely and fixate over the way his lips move to form his words. 
“I lost my student card so I need to read while I’m in here. I think it’s better though; easier to stay focused, less distractions,” Jay tells you when you ask what brought him to uni just to study alone. “Usually,” he adds, gaze flicking up to meet yours with a teasing smile crossing his lips.
Jay’s words hold a flirtatious undertone that isn’t lost on you or the butterflies that take flight in your stomach. “I’m not a distraction,” you say, frowning slightly. 
“I never said you were, but I had no problem getting my work done until you got here.” 
Jay’s words remind you of your first test for Property Law in February. The two of you sat together at a table in the campus cafe, empty mugs and printed slides scattered across the space between you. For four hours, you highlighted sentences and rewrote notes to keep your hands busy until Jay walked you back to your flat, where you pulled an all-nighter so you could actually study. You got a 61 and slept for twelve hours afterwards. 
“If it’s getting to you that much, I can go,” you offer, really, really, hoping he doesn’t take you up on it.
“No, please stay. I like spending time with you,” Jay admits with a slight downturn at the corners of his lips. 
You try to work out how to echo his sentiment without sounding like a lovestruck fool, though you draw a blank, distracted by the way he– “Are you batting your lashes at me?” you ask through a chuckle.
Jay squints. “Is it working?” 
You shake your head. 
“Well, neither are you,” he points out, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that almost makes you feel scolded despite his light tone. You think you like it. 
An overly dramatic sigh huffs its way out of your mouth as you roll your eyes at him, fighting a smile at the sound of his breathy laughter. “Whatever. Starting now, I’ll work on my paper. You focus on your reading, no distractions,” you suggest.
“Right, no distractions,” Jay repeats, his eyes falling to your lips. 
Sticking to your word proves much easier than you’d initially thought and you manage to sit, mostly undistracted, for more than a little while, putting the paragraphs that can stay in italics, the bits that need to be amended in bold, and deleting the rest. 
Your workflow is broken only when Jay speaks softly, “Is it cool if Heeseung works with us?” he asks, sending a text after you tell him that it’s okay. 
And as if he’d been waiting around the corner, Heeseung shows up seconds later. “Jongseongieeeeee,” he coos when he sees Jay, extending a hand to pat his head and ruffle his hair. 
Unable to hide his irritation, Jay’s face scrunches up at the interaction and in an attempt to stop the sudden attack, he grabs Heeseung by the wrist, seeming shocked when it works. You watch him fix his hair in his phone camera. 
In the same playful tone, Heeseung says your name too, sitting down in the seat next to Jay. “I feel like I haven’t seen you since the hockey mixer.” 
You can’t help the breathy laugh that comes out at the cute pout on his lips. “Because you haven’t seen me since the hockey mixer,” you say, smiling at Jay when you notice him looking at you. 
“You weren’t at the football party, were you?” Heeseung asks, his eyes widening right when the words leave his mouth. “Riiiiiiiight, you were.” He mumbles to himself before covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m just..” he trails off, pointing at his laptop with his index finger before opening it and sinking in his seat. 
There’s a nasty pit forming in your stomach while you watch Heeseung all but disappear behind his screen. And in the black screen of your laptop, you stare at yourself, pretending that: 1. The fingerprints and smudges don’t bother you, and 2. That you don’t notice the way Jay’s looking at you. Or rather, the fact that Jay’s looking at you. If you’d noticed the way he was looking at you, you might have picked up on the softness of his gaze. But you didn't, so you don’t. 
Instead, the fact that Jay’s watching you only makes you feel worse. Though at least it looks like your hair is sitting nicely today, you think, glad to have at least one thing working for you rather than against you. Like the pit in your stomach, or the Lipton peach that tastes like nothing when you take the first sip.
In the presence of Heeseung - and the things he said - the three of you manage to get on with your work, free of conversation. 
Reluctantly, you let the two boys walk you back to your place when you’re ready to go home. Heeseung leads the conversation, thankfully, with no more mention of the football party and even hugs you goodbye while Jay watches from a few feet away. Judging by the expression on his face, you’d think the person he’d liked for months kissed him and then ran away. 
“Sorry,” Heeseung whispers, pressing his lips into a straight line. 
With your key in the lock, you watch as they retreat, Heeseung nudging Jay when he reaches him and mumbling something that you can’t quite make out. Neither of the girls are home when you get inside and, sprawling out on the couch, you look for your phone to make plans. 
you: we should go out tn
cw: tmrw ! i have a deadline
yj: broke friday or .. j*emins party 
Too broke for broke Friday, the two of you find yourselves stepping over the legs of a sleeping Sunghoon to reach the open door to Jeno and Jaemin’s apartment. There are people everywhere, including the hall outside, but you suppose this is the benefit of student housing; none of your neighbours can complain about noise because they’re too busy being part of the commotion. 
Jake almost spills his drink when he sees you both, saying “heyyyyy,” with a giggle and eyes that linger on Yunjin while he talks though he quickly excuses himself to take water to poor Sunghoonie. 
The night is largely uneventful, much the same as every other night out you’ve had since starting college. Except for the part where Jay shows up,a massive grin on his face to greet your friends. Sakura, Yunjin, and Kazuha all get a “hey” and a brief hug. Jay regards you with a nod and a small smile. At least Kazuha seems to believe you when you tell her that you’re crying in Jaemin’s bathroom because you hate your outfit.
After a weekend of self-pity, you spend Monday at a coffee shop with Sakura, watching as she studi—“You could at least pretend to study, you know?” she sighs. “Every time I look up you’re either staring at me or using your phone, it’s distracting.” 
With a frown on your face, you touch your mug to see if your coffee is cool enough to drink yet — it’s not — before flipping your notebook to a blank page and trying to write out some of the key points that you remember from Friday’s lecture. A part of you feels bad for neglecting your Architectural Practice class but it’s just not as interesting, and you tell yourself that you’ll dedicate all of your time to it after finishing your report. You definitely will not come to regret leaving three months worth of work to the very last minute. 
You study with Sakura for a few hours until deciding that you simply cannot continue, and the two of you leave the cafe in favour of a Mcdonald’s drive-thru, eating your dinner in the dark parking lot before she drops you off.
On Tuesday night, you’re thankful that Yunjin and Kazuha don’t push you to go out with them when you say you’re tired, but when Netflix asks if you’re still watching Modern Family at almost 3 a.m., you wish they had. 
You push yourself out of bed to do your skincare, and hear the two girls coming back home as you apply your last pimple patch. After Kazuha all but yells something about a huge pair of shoes by the door, it seems like they settle in the kitchen. 
They’re sharing a bowl of cereal at the table when you get there. Feeling bad, you make instant noodles for them while Yunjin hugs you from behind. Both of you try your best to laugh quietly at Kazuha’s story about some box blond figure skater who completely blanked her when she tried flirting despite staring at her all night.
Once the food is ready, you sit up on the counter, watching them eat straight from the pot. Trying to talk to those two while they’re so invested in dinner is a waste of energy so you busy yourself on your phone instead, scrolling aimlessly until both girls kiss you on the cheek to thank you for looking after them. Kazuha gratefully drinks the glass of water you give her, and Yunjin, as you expect, is stubborn about it; taking three small sips before running away to her room. 
The argument you can hear through the open window keeps you entertained as you wash the dishes, and you check your phone on the way to your room, finding two texts from Jay. 
jay: i know it’s late but can we talk in person if you’re up
jay: it’ s important
They came in four minutes ago and you chew on your lip trying to figure out what he wants to talk about. 
you: are you okay?
jay: can you come outside 
With not even enough time to hit send on the three question marks you’d typed out, the distinct ring of a FaceTime call surprises you. Though what you find more surprising is the sight of your building’s door behind Jay’s face which just about fills the screen. Lit dramatically by an orange street light, he looks beautiful. Looks cute when his lips pout slightly around the words: come quickly and dress warm, as he successfully convinces you to leave the comfort of your bed.
Through the glass in the main door, you see him. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he looks up towards the sky and puffs visible breaths into the air above him. Jay turns around at the sound of the door opening. You feel your stomach lurch because he doesn’t smile when he sees you. 
“Hey,” he says after a while, watching you intently, inspecting almost, as you shut the door softly behind you. His face softens, the smile he hadn’t given earlier coming through now. “Are you wearing my jacket?” His voice is soft too when he speaks, breathy enough for the smell of alcohol and vague peppermint to hit your nose. 
“I thought I should probably give it back,” you nod. “Sorry I kept it so long.”
Jay shakes his head, hair shifting on his forehead from the motion. “No, I love it on you. Please keep it,” he pauses, taking a step towards you. “I want you to keep it.” 
Thank God, you think. You hadn’t really been meaning to give it back, and you weren’t really sorry to have kept it so long, it just felt like the right thing to say. 
The space between you is so small that you wonder if he can hear the way your heart rate starts to pick up. In the time you hadn’t talked, you’d seen him around campus, in the corners of story posts, but seeing him here in front of you is almost overwhelming. A gust of wind ruffles the jacket Jay has on and his scent unfurls right under your nose; warm, lived in, mixed with faint sweat and what you think might be tobacco. It creates a musk that leaves you weak at the knees.
“It was milk and cookies night,” Jay continues when you don’t respond, digging into his pocket and holding a plastic-wrapped cookie out towards you. “You like white chocolate chip, right?” 
Hearing that it was milk and cookies night makes you wonder if you’d been too hasty when you turned down the girls’ invitation. 
Despite the cold, Jay’s hand is warm when your fingers graze his. Letting your touch linger, you thank him sincerely, touched by the little things he seems to remember about you. 
Even though you’re aware of the other students coming home from various nights out, and end up having to move out of the way so some of them can enter your building, it feels like the two of you are in your own world. You notice that his sights are locked on the cookie, on the spot where your fingers touch, allowing you to admire him freely. 
Standing almost directly under the lamppost now, you notice that his cheeks and the tips of his ears are dusted with red. You feel a little bad, he must be freezing, you think. Your gaze falls to his lips that sit parted, chapped like you expect, and now you’re thinking of kissing him. 
Clearing his throat, Jay moves his hand from yours to put it in his pocket. You do the same. 
“I know I said I wanted to talk, but I just wanted to see you,” he says, looking you right in the eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d come if I said that.” 
You frown, wondering if this whole time he’s been avoiding you because he thought you didn’t want to see him. “Why wouldn’t I?” 
Jay only shrugs in response. 
From over your shoulder, you hear the door opening. Jay’s eyes flicker in its direction. You turn your head to look too. A boy with pink hair frowns when both of you tell him you don’t have the lighter he’d been looking to borrow. 
“I’m sorry about leaving after we kissed. And for avoiding you. That was stupid,” Jay says as soon as the door closes. “It was childish of me to do that instead of just telling you how I feel. I wasn’t gonna say anything, because I know you only see me as a friend, but I have to let you know that I like you, a lot.” 
You stand around limply for a beat, staring up at Jay and trying to take in every single detail about this moment before you inevitably wake up. But this ‘dream’ doesn’t cut off where you’d been expecting it to. Instead, you feel your heart thudding against your ribs, your stomach flipping. The only thing you can get yourself to do is blink at the boy in front of you. The boy who likes you. 
A lot.
“It’s just that, after Heeseung said that shit in the library and you couldn’t even look at me, I knew I didn’t have a chance with you and I just.. am trying to figure out how to be near you and pretend like I don’t want to drop everything and kiss you.” 
“What’s stopping you?” you ask, surprised that your voice even comes out properly.
Jay’s gaze drops to your lips. Without noticing, the two of you had gotten so close that your chests are barely an inch apart; they’d probably touch if either of you took just one deep inhale. A beat passes. His gaze flicks up to meet yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You want to kiss him. You must. Right when you start to lean up towards him, to put your lips on his, he steps back. 
“Fuck,” Jay mumbles, his brows knitting together as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” 
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The ability to hold his liquor is something that Jay sees as both a blessing and a curse. 
On the bright side, he can drink as much as he wants and won’t say or do anything he wouldn’t say or do when sober. His delivery might be a little off when he’s drunk but the point still stands.
On the not-so-bright, catastrophically dim side, however, Jay wakes up the morning after drinking with a vivid memory of everything that happened to him at whatever party he’d been to. Plus a killer migraine. 
And so, since drunkenly showing up at your place with a cookie in his pocket and his heart on his sleeve two weeks ago, Jay’s been quietly pitying himself and gently encouraging Jake to work harder on physics so he can get some sort of time machine up and running. 
Though it seems like you’ve been able to go on as normal. So normal, in fact, that Jay starts to believe the whole thing was just an elaborate dream. So elaborate that when he scrolls through your text thread, he finds the messages that you’d ‘exchanged’ that night. He finds the thought of having developed self-awareness in a two-week-long dream to be a greater comfort than the reality that you don’t like him back. 
You would have said if you did. Right? Or at least brought up what he’d said. Asked if you could talk about it. You’d be so excited to see him again, sober, that you wouldn’t even be able to say anything except: “I like you too!” Right? 
But you haven’t. So unless you’re going through trauma-inflicted amnesia, or someone has finally come up with the technology to invent The Neuralyzer, you really don’t like him back.
Jay had been so sure, certain that you liked him back. It just seemed so obvious; like the way you seemed to find him at every party, and how anytime you saw Jake in the engineering block you’d ask about him. Surely it wasn’t all in his head. The way that Chaewon and Yunjin had been teasing you at the hockey mixer, and how Yunjin made up that excuse to leave the two of you alone at the football party. It was all so.. like-y.  
Even today, when you texted him asking to hang out. He was sure that you were finally (finally!) going to tell him you liked him too. So sure, he’d even told the boys that he’d be coming back home as someone’s boyfriend. As your boyfriend. 
But instead, Jay finds himself climbing the stairs of his apartment complex wondering how the fuck he’d been so delusional. In his back pocket, his phone vibrates. Twice. Texts; both from you. 
you: i forgot to say but lmk when u get home lol
you: and if u have time to hang out before ur game tmrw !
His heart twists in his chest as he reads your messages. 
jay: okayyyyyyyyyyyyy, i can chill for a bit
jay: what did you have in mind? 
After fishing his house key from his jacket, he twists it in the lock and crosses the threshold before texting you once more: home now :). You heart the message immediately. The laughter that Jay could hear in the hall quiets as soon as he closes the door, and heavy footsteps thud towards the living room’s open doorway. Sunghoon. 
“It’s Mr YN YL—” he stops short. “Oh.” It’s not until Sunghoon looks over his shoulder and shakes his head that Jay even notices the stupid shutter shades he’s wearing. And when Jay joins his friends in the living room, he smiles despite himself seeing the way they’d decorated the space. Streamers dangle from the ceiling, hand-drawn A4 posters with both of your names written in lopsided hearts are stuck to the wall, and Jay ignores the thought of losing the security deposit to appreciate his friends; they’re good to him. 
On the way to his usual seat, an armchair in the corner of the room, Jay stops to wrestle a bottle of Desperados from the open six back sitting atop the coffee table and kicks a balloon that was in his path before sinking into his chair. 
Knowing there’s no use giving them a play-by-play, Jay recounts the last few hours as briefly as he can. He makes sure to leave out small details; like how he felt weak at the knees when you hugged him and told him you loved him after he won you a Hello Kitty plushie from the claw machine that you swore was rigged. Or how you’d worn his jacket out and his heart started racing when he noticed that your perfume had started to mix with his cologne. Unexpectedly, the guys seem hooked on the story right until its end. “So it’s not like it went badly or anything, I just.. didn’t tell her.”
Somehow, all three of them speak at the same time: “What do you mean you didn’t tell her?” 
Jay stares at a spot on the floor, noticing a hole in the toe of Jake’s sock. He’ll make fun of that later. “I just couldn’t get the words out,” he mumbles, shoulders drooping as he slumps further and further into his seat before taking the first sip of his bitter drink a—“Fuck, why does anybody drink these?” 
“Cheap,” Sunghoon mumbles, scowling after sipping from his own.
Clearly.
“Unless I’m missing something, this doesn’t seem like the end of the world. Just tell her tomorrow, tell her now, text her,” Heeseung sighs, letting his eyes fall shut. 
The other two boys seem to agree, echoing the sentiment and adding their own ad libs to it. Jay watches as Sunghoon leans over to get another drink from the table, admiring his commitment to beer drinking even though he doesn’t like it. He waits for silence before speaking again: “I already know she doesn’t like me that way. And it’s only been two weeks so it doesn’t make sense to confess again so soon when I know the answer.” 
“Again?” Sunghoon asks, raising a brow. 
Ahhh, Jay knew there was something he’d forgotten to do. Though he's struggling to figure out how he’d withheld this information, considering it was the main thing on his mind at all hours. “Yeah, after milk and cookies I went to hers and told her I like her,” he says, attempting to feign nonchalance, shoulders rising and falling in a stiff shrug.
“And you kept that to yourself because..” 
Jay scrunches up his nose, genuinely unsure. “I didn’t go there to confess, I just wanted to see her and give her the cookie I got for her,” he admits. “But then she came outside, and she had my jacket on, and she just looked so pretty. The only thing on my mind was oh, my God, I can’t go any longer without telling you I’m in love with you.” Jay pauses, taking a long sip of beer before telling them what happened outside your building. 
As if he wasn’t feeling bad enough already, Heeseung bursts out laughing. Hard. It’s not long before Jake and Sunghoon join in and Jay wants to vanish into thin air. Feeling slightly left out, he also wants to ask what’s so funny, but the fear of being slated holds him back. 
It’s the eldest who calms down first, sitting up straight in his seat. “So you go to YN’s door, tell her you like her, almost kiss her, then explicitly tell her not to say she likes you back, run away from her, again, and you’re wondering why she didn’t say she likes you back?”
With the story being laid out so simply, Jay starts to see the flaws in his logic. Though too stubborn to admit that he’s wrong in front of Jake, he nods his head. “Exactly.” 
He presses his lips into a straight line when the boys call him chronically stupid. 
“You need to call her, talk to her, figure your shit out before it’s too late,” Heeseung says with a firm tone. 
Jay thinks about it, biting at his bottom lip before replying, asking in a small voice: “But what if she says she doesn’t like me?” 
As much as not having confirmation is killing him, there’s a part of Jay that likes not knowing how you feel about him because it lets him play into his delusions. Lets him feed himself with thoughts of you being excited to see him because you like him and not because he makes great platonic company. The thought of you checking up on him through Jake because you’ve been thinking about him, but feel too shy to ask directly. And Jay knows when you properly reject him, he won’t be comforted by such thoughts anymore. They’ll only hurt him. 
Though after hearing what may be the wisest thing he thinks Sunghoon has ever said, Jay starts to see the situation a little differently. It’s casual. Spoken through a yawn. “You already don’t have a girlfriend. Nothing to lose, right?” 
The walk to your apartment building is longer than he remembers, but the cool air feels good on his neck as he tries to figure out what exactly he should say. Jay only starts to consider that this may not be the best idea when he stands face to face with your apartment building and feels a little too nervous to buzz your flat. What is he doing? 
A grating screech comes from the heavy door when it opens, and Chaewon’s boyfriend steps outside with squinted eyes. “Jay?” he asks as the door thuds shut behind him. “YN didn’t say you were coming over.” 
An awkward chuckle slips from Jay’s lips and (for the first time in his life) he does jazz hands. “Surprise?”
Jay feels better when Jeno’s lips spread into a grin. “Ohhhh,” he says, nodding and extending an almost empty deck of cigarettes in his direction. 
“I’m good,” Jay declines, shaking his head. 
Though if things go poorly up there he might have to take Jeno up on his offer. 
Holding his cigarette between his lips, Jeno uses a fob to open the door for him, and Jay can’t help but feel comforted by the way Jeno pats him on the back and says: “I’m rooting for you.” 
Standing at the door to your apartment only unleashes a new sense of nervousness. His hand rests on it, balled into a fist, waiting to be pulled back. But something stops him. Jay lets his hand slip down the door and takes a step away from it. He’d been standing too close. Now, he stands shifting his weight from foot to foot, and the toes of his shoes are just touching the doormat. 
Reminding himself that knocking isn’t the hard part, Jay takes a deep breath and knocks three times. 
A few minutes pass and it’s now that he remembers he doesn’t even know for sure that you’re home, or awake. He counts ten seconds before knocking again and the second his fist touches the door, he hears the sound of a lock clicking and the door creaks open. 
Like something from a dream, you stand in the doorway, looking so beautiful with his hoodie on that Jay has to put in effort to keep his jaw from falling to the ground. 
“Jay?” you say quietly, brows furrowed. “Is everything alright?” 
“Do you like me?” Jay blurts out, pressing his eyes shut immediately as all plans of a proper conversation go to the wind. From his spot on your doormat, he can hear the sound of the TV quieting and a terrible silence settles over the two of you; lasting eight whole seconds before you speak. 
“Do you wanna come in?”
Jay steps into the apartment, taking off his shoes at the door while mumbling a greeting to Yunjin and Chaewon who (definitely heard him) lay on the couch with wide grins on their faces, and follows you to your room where you close the door behind him. 
“Sorry, I had, like, a speech ready and then I saw you and I just..” he trails off, standing awkwardly near the door and looking at everything in the room except for you; he struggles to tear his eyes away from a polaroid picture of the two of you with huge grins. It’s only when you talk that he manages to look over at you instead. 
“You can sit down,” you say, patting a spot on the bed next to you. Without saying anything, Jay crosses the room to sit beside you — if sitting at arm’s length can be considered as beside you. “Tell me about the speech,” you say, and Jay shakes his head while trying to convince himself that your chuckle isn’t patronising. 
“Do you like me?” he asks again, not wanting to waste any more time. 
“I like you.” 
Your words, simple and quiet, leave Jay winded. 
“You look surprised,” you say, tilting your head. “You really didn’t know?”
Immediately, he relaxes his face. Clears his throat. Jay’s not entirely sure what he did and didn’t know, but he doesn’t think it matters. Nothing could possibly matter more than you do right now. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, letting out a sigh of relief. “I like you too.” The words sound regular when he says them, though he does like the lightness in his chest knowing for sure that the feeling is mutual. “Can you say it again?”
“Jay,” you start, resting your hand on his knee. Jay wonders if this is supposed to comfort him and clasps his hands over his lap as discreetly as he can manage. “I like you,” you tell him again.
Under the weight of your words, Jay feels his heart cinch a little in his chest. Why does everything sound so perfect coming from you? He can’t help but lean in, finally kissing you after what feels like an eternity. Jay didn’t think anything would feel better than your first kiss, but having your lips move softly against his, and knowing that you like him back, might just be the best thing ever. How did he go so long without this? Dazed and lovestruck, he lets his forehead rest against yours to calm down, to catch his breath. “Again?” he whispers, hopeful, one step away from begging.
You let out a chuckle, soft, breathy, fanning his lips. “I like you,” you say after a while, quietly, a whisper, just for him before kissing him again.
Jay’s not sure when it happened, he’s not even sure he notices that you’re sitting in his lap until you grind down on him; the feeling overwhelming despite all of the layers between you. A whine slips from your mouth into his when he rolls his hips up towards yours, and he can’t help but hate himself a bit for not just confessing sooner. 
You pull away from him, a smile on your face as he chases your kiss. “Please touch me,” you whisper, hiding your face in his neck when he chuckles at your request, calling you cute under his breath.
He feels oddly thankful that you’re not grinding on him any longer because he was about two more movements away from cumming in his pants. His hand slips under your shorts, finding your clit and pressing on it through your underwear, liking the way your breath fans his skin when you sigh. The wet patch on the fabric only starts to spread when he starts rubbing you. “You like that?” 
“Yeah,” you tell him on an exhale, letting your hips roll against his hand, whimpering at the friction. 
Your mouth quickly finds his again, and you let your hand clutch at his shirt, balling it up in your first before tugging at it, parting to take it off of him. With wide eyes, you gape at his torso, the word “Shit,” falling from your mouth while you let a hand rest on his stomach. 
When he tries pushing your panties to the side, the soaked material sticks to your slit slightly, and Jay groans despite himself. You’re absolutely drenched in slick, sopping wet to the core as you let out a broken whine from the feeling of his finger slipping into you. Curling his finger towards your belly button, his eyes fall shut, cock throbbing against his thigh when he thinks about how you’d feel around his shaft, how you’d look under him.
“You’re so good,” you whisper, awestruck and trembling in his lap.
The way you watch him makes him feel a little under pressure when he opens his eyes, but, determined to make you feel good, Jay attaches his thumb to your clit and everything is so slick that his finger slips around a bit before he can help it. You squirm in his lap, your head falling forward into the crook of his neck, forcing Jay to hiss when you bite on the skin of his shoulder. Your whimpers turn into cries and you mumble that you’re close, your walls tensing around him a moment later as if to prove your point. 
Jay pulls his fingers out, holding back a moan at the way they glisten in the light, coated in you— “Nooo,” you whine, sounding audibly distraught. 
Though he’s too busy tasting your cunt on his fingers to grace you with a response. In the quiet of the room, you sit up properly to look at him, watching with parted lips as Jay sucks on his fingers, humming at the way you taste. You barely give him a chance to put his hand back down before pressing your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. 
Getting a tight grip on your waist, he moves around a bit to lay you down on the bed. Resting on his forearm, Jay leans over you, kissing you again. He lets his hand trail down your body, liking the way you spread your legs when he dips his fingers into your waistband. You nod eagerly when he asks if he can take them off, and his cock throbs when you tell him to take your panties off too. 
With no unnecessary fabric in his way, his finger drags up and down the length of your pussy. Already close, it doesn’t take long for you to start whimpering and squirming underneath him, your walls stuttering once again as you cum, hot and hard on his hand. 
Ever the gentleman, Jay stands up to place himself between your legs, groaning at the sight of you, pulsing and wet. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says. Deciding not to waste another second, he uses his thumbs to spread your lips a little before burying his face in your cunt. 
It doesn’t take much for you to writhe under his tongue, and as soon as he kisses your clit it’s a wrap. He feels his cock leaking a little when your clit starts to throb between his lips, and he can’t help but groan when you tug at his hair. 
You stutter through the words: “Too much,” and Jay tears his mouth away from you, letting his forehead rest on your inner thigh while he catches his breath, savouring your taste on his tongue. It doesn’t last long though; your scent drives him crazy. When Jay leans back over your face, he presses kisses to your cheek, mumbling to you about how pretty you are, and how good you taste, all while playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie. 
He likes the way it looks on you, way better than it does on him. Likes it so much, he almost objects when you sit up to pull it over your head. Jay’s glad he doesn’t. He gulps at the sight of your breasts, surprised to see that you weren’t wearing anything under his hoodie, his dick somehow growing harder just from looking at you. 
Jay feels an intense desperation to suck on them, but your hands reach back up to his face, pulling him towards you to kiss him again. He settles (ecstatically) for holding one in his hand, pinching your nipple with his fingers. He’s relaxed, he’s happy; not torn up about it because he has all the time in the world to feel your tits in his mouth. 
He thinks. 
Jay pulls away from you. “Wait,” he says, feeling butterflies when you smile up at him. “Can I be your boyfriend?”
Your giggle sounds like music and he feels warm all over when you say, “Of course,” the words somewhat muffled by his lips on yours again, he could make out with you all day. But he stops for a moment, looking down at you, into your eyes and revelling in this moment. Revelling in you, his girlfriend, and the way you look at him. Like he put the stars in the sky or moved mountains; like you want him just as much as he’s wanted you all this time. And he wonders what he’s done to deserve it. 
Overwhelmed by emotion, Jay kisses you, lets his tongue run along the seam of your lips as he considers just kissing you for the rest of the night. It almost seems like he’s trying to, and you speak once more against his mouth. 
“Are you gonna fuck me?” you ask, moving your head to the side. “It’s okay if you’re not, but I’d like to know.” 
Jay smirks at you — pretty cocky for a guy whose dick is throbbing against his thigh just from hearing you talk. “You want that?”
“Mhm,” you hum, nodding. “Need it.” Your gaze burns into his as he tries to process your words. You look distractingly beautiful with a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, lidded eyes, and kiss-plumped lips that you press up against his once more. “There’s condoms in the second drawer.”
Leaning up off of you, Jay reaches into his back pocket to show off the two condoms he’d brought with him.
“Classy,” you tease, though there’s an excitement in your eyes that drives him mad. 
“Responsible,” he corrects, standing up to pull his pants and underwear down. Slapping against his stomach, his cock throbs when he hears you gasp. Jay lifts his head in your direction, trying not to cum on the spot from the sight of you leaning up on your elbows, staring at his dick with an open mouth. 
Taking a deep breath, Jay reminds himself that he has all the time in the world to find out what your pretty lips will feel like around him, choosing to busy himself with putting the condom on instead. “How do you want it?” 
If the way you stop and stammer through the word “However” is anything to go by, the question seems to catch you off guard. Making his way back over to you, Jay racks his brain trying to figure out how he wants this to go, but seeing you on your back with your legs spread for him makes it clear. He hovers over you, lips drawn to yours like a magnet, using his hand to run the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, all while you whine against his mouth every time he pushes past your clit. 
“Don’t want to wait any longer.”
Your words make his stomach turn. He pulls away, his brows knitted together. “How long have you been waiting?” 
“Months, Jay,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, eyes screwed shut in a tortured expression. “Please.” 
Satisfied with your answer, Jay guides his cock to your slit. Pushes just a little. “I won’t make you wait like that again,” he tells you, and he means it, pushing in as much as he can before you cry out. 
Worried, Jay stops, leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek. “You okay?” 
“I just need a sec,” you tell him breathlessly.
Jay nods. As good as he feels, quitting while he’s ahead seems like the better option at the minute — he needs a sec too, but with the way your walls clench around him, it doesn’t really feel like much has changed. He finds himself having to hold his hips back after a while, as you get used to the feeling of him inside, your pretty little cunt starts trying to suck him in and his breath hitches in his throat when you look him in the eye. 
With a hand on the back of his neck, you pull his face back down to yours. “I’m good,” you mumble into his ear. 
“Yeah?” he asks, grinning when you nod in response. 
You stretch around him so easily that Jay whines as you take him in, deeper and deeper, inch by inch until he bottoms out. “Shit,” he mutters. How did he go so long without this? The sting of your nails digging into his bicep makes him hiss and he all but passes out when you moan. Falling from your mouth on a loop with every move he makes, his name is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard; you cut yourself off with a gasp, breath hitching in your throat.
“There?” Jay asks, even though he knows he’s hitting your spot. 
You look up at him through fluttering eyelids, becoming more and more dazed each time his hips smack yours. “Mhm, I—close,” you mumble. 
Jay takes this as a sign to hike your leg up around his waist, making sure to hit it each time he pumps into you. It seems like it’s working. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispers, using his free hand to push some of your hair out of your face. 
Your whines turn into broken sobs and you hide your face in the pillow next to you, muffling your screams. Although he thinks your consideration for your flatmates is coming a bit late, he leaves you be, finding the sight sexier than he cares to admit. 
Sexier still is the way your body tenses before squirming again, your walls pulsing uncontrollably around him while you cum. Jay’s stomach starts to tighten as he fucks you, spurred on by the look on your face as you orgasm, and the sound of his cock filling you up. With a few more thrusts and a jagged moan, he spills his load into the condom, just about collapsing on top of you. 
Considering how fucked out and sleepy you’d been while Jay cleaned you up, he isn’t surprised to find you fast asleep when he gets back from cleaning himself. He does his best to join you in bed as softly as possible but it’s no use because you wake with a large yawn, making his heartache from a weird mixture of guilt and how cute you look. 
He lays on his back, grinning to himself when you rest your head on his chest, making yourself comfy with an arm and leg slung over him. You talk drowsily about watching The Devil Wears Prada in full after his game tomorrow and nod eagerly when he asks if you want to wear one of his jerseys to come and watch him play. Jay keeps his eyes shut until he hears you snoring faintly, and looks forward to teasing you about it in the morning.
When he stares straight ahead at your ceiling, a fuzzy feeling rises in his chest. “I put my star on the ceiling too,” he whispers, knowing you can’t hear him, but feeling happy nonetheless.
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Huddled up under Jay’s jacket, you sit on the half wall outside the football house with Chaewon, watching as Jeno blows smoke from his super king over his shoulder. Though given the way that the wind blows it back in your faces, the two of you may as well have taken him up on his offer to share. 
Letting Chaewon rest her head on your shoulder, you take a sip of your drink and feel thankful to the version of you from five minutes ago who let Jay fill your cup with lemonade instead of vodka. The two of you laugh along with Jeno until you see Yunjin rushing out of the double doors and into the garden. 
“Is there anything wrong with my outfit?” she asks, giving the three of you a twirl so you can check and mumbling a “thank you” to Jeno who reaches his arm out to stop her from falling over in the process. 
Yunjin’s outfit looks fine. At first. Until you notice the massive hole in the left side of her skirt; the sight of which leaves you and Chaewon wiping tears of laughter. Through cackles and a slight stomach ache, you manage to ask what happened. 
“I got caught on something, like, an hour ago, and I wasn’t hurt or anything so I forgot about it, and then I went out front and felt the craziest breeze on my thigh and I looked down and.. half of my skirt is just.. missing,” she explains, pausing only to take a draw from Jeno’s cigarette. “Does it look intentional at least?” 
You almost choke on your drink when Chaewon suggests using her acrylics to make an identical hole on the side, telling her to market the holes as “cutouts” and try selling it on Depop. 
“Vintage, Y2K, I.AM.GIA, Destiny’s Child, Britney Spears,” she says, although she’s had so much to drink that it all comes out as one word. “Don’t laugh at me, write it down! Babe, quick, take pictures!” 
Yunjin poses dramatically while Jeno takes product photos on her phone, and in the space between them, through the double doors, you see your boyfriend standing next to the dining table, his friends laughing around him while he stares over in your direction with a sweet smile on his face. 
And even though you can’t say for sure, you’re just glad that here, tonight, you have a pretty good idea of why Park Jongseong’s smiling at you.
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© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
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bvidzsoo · 4 months
Text
Love Me Like A Rockstar (9)
ー☆ Chapter 9: You (Show Me Where My Days Went)
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Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader
ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 9.8k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?
A/N: Hi, lovelies!! LMLAR is BACK!! I am sooo happy I could finally update and just write, y'all have no idea! I am so sorry for making you wait so long for this update, but finishing my thesis was super important! I still have to study and such this month, but I promise next update won't take as long as this one did! (I'm writing other stories too while writing this one, so that kinda backfires sometimes lol) I am forever grateful that you are patient and stick around for the new chapters, this story is so dear to me you wouldn't even believe it. I am also super grateful and happy whenever you leave feedback, so please, keep on doing just that!<3 This chapter only exists because I was randomly inspired, and I'd like to apologize if it's a little rusty, I always have to get in "character" when I write this story lol. I am soo excited for next chapter, I think it's going to surprise you hehe. PLS PLS imagine that airport look from Mingi when reading this chapter, the pics from the moodboard, you'll see during which part! I also have a very small surprise at the end of this chapter hehe. I hope the time jumps aren't too confusing:(( Please, listen to the song called You before or while reading! Enough yapping, I hope you enjoy and leave feedback! (Taglist is always open for those interested! ^^)
Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380
⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩
♫Playlist♫
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Later that day
I hate him: hey…just checking in that I got home safely what are u up to?
I blinked, fingers tightening around my phone before I locked it, leaving the message on unread. My mother’s shuffling outside my door caught my attention, bringing a smile onto my lips as I watched her struggle while bringing all the dirty laundry to the bathroom. Then, I got off my bed to go help her.
Friday (11:30 am)
I hate him: i see u still haven’t checked my message… nothing too worrisome u certainly know how to make a man yearn for you lol that was a joke…dont freak out on me pls (lowkey true tho)
Friday (12:50 pm)
I hate him: lol, wooyoung has been bitching about seulgi’s professor for half an hour now mr. kwon u know him? i mean…i suppose he also teaches u i should take a sneaky video for u…wooyoung looks like a clown hanging upside down my bed and pouting like a damn child too (dont say im also one, thanks)
Friday (15:26 pm)
I hate him: well…ik my messages are going through so uh… why tf are u ignoring me???! *cries and dies in loneliness* entertain me dollll!!! im so bored pls oh…u said u had an important assignment…i bet u’re busy with that sorry for spamming u (text back tho when u’re done, im dying here…wooyoung is with seulgi and so is seonghwa with hongjoong…the single life sucks, bestie…lets be single and depressed together<3)
My jaw clenched as I heaved a long sigh, falling back on my bed as the sun shone brightly through my open window, the light breeze making me shiver as I only wore a t-shirt and sweats. Autumn was slowly turning into winter; the weather wasn’t so warm anymore. I threw another look at my phone, unlocked it, and stared at the received messages from Mingi for a second before finally deciding to delete them from my notification center, rolling over in bed to muffle a frustrated scream into my soft, and purple, pillow.
            Saturday (9:09 am)
I hate him: i had the weirdest dream and im not even sure i want to tell u about it LOL but uh…a grisly was chasing me??? and then u appeared on a fucking white horse like a prince LOL and threatened to like…slay it if it didnt leave me alone??? honestly…what a slay, bestie good morning, btw, doll hope u had a better night’s sleep than me (and dreamed of me ehehehe)
            Saturday (17:40 pm)
I hate him: i cant believe i allowed myself to be fooled like this back in highschool yuyu and i used to play baseball for shits and giggles and hongjoong (that rich prick) rented a whole ass baseball field for us for the afternoon and let us play with some of his (rich af) friends and uh… i think i wont be able to walk straight for another week with how much running i did… hongjoong kept scoring homeruns…i wish yuyu was here to kick his loser ass (dont tell hwa or hong i said that PLS) yo doll…everything’s alright with u? uh u…really havent answered me since… yk…i stayed over and waited for the rain to stop… have i done something wrong?
I sighed and put my phone on ‘do not disturb’, suddenly having lost all of my appetite as I forced the rest of the lettuce down my throat. My mother was sipping her kiwi and apple smoothie, eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself while trying to memorize the recipe of a dessert for later. Desserts were never her forte, unfortunately.
“Is it Seulgi?” She asked absentmindedly as I took a large gulp of my own smoothie, staring down at my salad, steak pushed to the side in my plate.
“Huh?” I asked distracted, eyes still glued to the dark screen of my phone.
“Texting you, your phone keeps buzzing, my starlight.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but didn’t bother to comment on it. I took a peek at my mother and her eyes were narrowed at me already, video on YouTube paused. Fuck, I had to answer her now or else she’d pester me all day long. And that would be a nightmare.
“Yeah, it’s Seulgi.” I lied, trying to make my voice sound convincing.
“Well, answer her then, don’t be rude.” My mother chastised me, pressing play on her video again, pursing her lips as she shook her head at whatever the man baking was saying.
“Later.” I whispered, biting my lower lip as my eyes remained glued to my phone, stomach clenching and heart dropping.
But I couldn’t.
            Sunday (1:01 am)
I hate him: …you’re ignoring me, arent u? im sorry, y/n, i dont know what i did wrong, but we can talk about it we’re friends, after all…right?
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『When you came along, I knew what was wrong
If you want to know exactly what I've missed』
            Monday (present time)
            It truly would have been a missed opportunity if Seulgi and I wouldn’t have grabbed coffee and went to sit in our usual spot in the back garden. The campus of our University was huge and that was perfect, because it meant people migrated and didn’t stay in one spot for long—at least long enough to irritate me to no end. Last week deemed to be rather rough, and I still didn’t feel like completely myself. To be honest, I thought about staying home today—and for the rest of the week—but I couldn’t afford missing any of my classes as exam period was slowly nearing, and so, I had to force my ass out of the house this morning before my mother could come and nag me about my weirdly unusual broody mood that has been going on for the past few days.
I hummed as I took a sip of my sweet coffee, enjoying the taste of warm caramel as Seulgi sighed loudly next to me, both hands cupped around her own coffee cup. The scent of cinnamon wafted from her cup and I scrunched up my nose, not too fond of the ingredient’s smell. Our classes started early in the morning today and we’d be here for at least four more hours, caffeine seemed like our only hope to stay awake and aware at this point. Given the fact that my baffling thoughts kept me up all night yesterday, I felt grateful that I was still on my feet at two o’clock at noon. As Seulgi fidgeted again, I chuckled and finally turned my head to look at her. She had a sheepish look on her face, and I tried not to laugh as I knew she was bursting to tell me all about her date with Wooyoung on Saturday.
“Well,” I started as I took a sip of my coffee, prolonging the suspense for her, “how did your date go?”
“It was amazing!” I had barely finished asking as Seulgi exclaimed, her cheeks turning rosy—and it wasn’t due to the cold air, “Wooyoung is—everything I thought he would be. He’s sweet and up for anything, he makes me laugh until I feel like passing out, and there’s just never a dull moment with him, you know?”
“One would expect that from him.” I muttered against my cup, laughing as Seulgi nudged my side, not looking too happy with my comment, “Oh, come on, it would be hard for Wooyoung to be different than the way he mostly presents himself; don’t you think?”
Seulgi grumbled something against her cup as she lightly bit into the carton, shooting me a pointed stare, “Well, yes, but…he makes me happy. Treats me well and all that, you know, he’s the perfect embodiment of what a boyfriend should be like.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” I teased with a smirk, wriggling my eyebrows at my best friend as her cheeks flushed an even darker color as she bit her lower lip, trying to mask the huge grin expanding on her lips. But as soon as I started giggling, Seulgi also broke out in a fit of giggles, hiding herself behind her wavy hair, pressing her cup of coffee against her face.
“God, I’m so down bad for him, Y/N, I don’t think you’d understand.” She mused, voice airy as she threw her head back, leaning back against the back of the bench. I chuckled and took another sip of my drink.
“Maybe I’d do.” I muttered, memories of my relationship with Yunho resurfacing. Thankfully, however, I managed to repress them as quickly as they came. They didn’t feel so gut-wrenching anymore, and to my surprise, didn’t leave a bitter taste in its wake either. What has changed? Certainly—certainly getting closer to his best friend didn’t influence the way I feel about Yunho, right? Right.
“So,” I glanced at Seulgi from the corner of my eyes as she swung her legs, looking down at her feet in the process, “how are you?”
“Fine, why?” I asked confused, angling my body to face Seulgi better.
“You’ve been…distant the whole weekend. I could barely reach you.” Seulgi’s voice sounded small and I gulped, feeling bad for making her worry about me, “You know…the last time you pulled away and disappeared, it was bad.”
“I promise you I am doing completely fine, Seulgi, you’d be the first person to know if I was in a bad headspace again, alright?” I reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Seulgi sighed and then raised her head to look at me, lips pulled into a thin line.
“Promise?”
“Of course, I promise.” I smiled at her warmly and she hummed in contentment, squeezing my hand back as she took a sip of her coffee. I followed suit before removing my hand from hers to fiddle with my half empty cup, “I’m just dealing with some things right now. I think I’m confused.”
“About what?” Seulgi asked curiously, leaning closer as I continued to avoid eye contact with her.
“I’ll tell you once I have my thoughts sorted about it.” I chuckled, making Seulgi roll her eyes in displeasure.
“You know, I tell you absolutely everything about myself and how I fell, and you always shut me out and tell me how you felt about a situation when it’s been over for years.” Seulgi pouted, narrowing her eyes at me, “How’s that fair, Y/N?”
“Hey, we work differently, don’t try to guilt trip me now.” I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “Anyways, what did you do on your date with Wooyoung?”
“We went to the cinema,” Seulgi’s face lit up once again, grinning from ear to ear, “He bought me roses, a big bouquet. And after the movie we went for a walk and ended up stargazing in his cabriolet. It was really romantic.”
I smiled, feeling happy for my friend, she deserved someone like Wooyoung, “That actually sounds really amazing…and romantic.”
“Oh, my God, are you really Y/N? Where is my friend that hates anything that has to do with romance, cute stuff, and love?!” Seulgi’s shocked face was mocking and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned back against the back of the bench.
“I don’t hate it, I’m just not a huge fan of all of those things, okay?!” I shrugged, letting my arms fall from my chest as I pushed them inside my coat’s pockets.
“Who’s the culprit?” When I raised my eyebrows at Seulgi, a sign that I didn’t understand her question, she chuckled and leaned closer, “Who’s the man that’s changing your views on life, huh?”
“Man?” I asked with a scoff, giving Seulgi a deadpanned expression, “Does it always have to be about a man? Can’t it be just the fact that I had a change of mind?”
“Sure, because of someone.” Seulgi had a smug look on her face, acting as if she won the argument. But there was no argument here and she had no idea what she was talking about.
“Whatever—” But I got cut off as her phone dinged loudly. Seulgi, very comically, scrambled to reach for her phone and as she opened it up, a wide grin stretched onto her lips. It didn’t take two braincells to realize who had texted her, and thus, I chuckled and turned my head. I sipped my coffee, taking in my environment while Seulgi answered her boyfriend, giggling quietly every now and then.
The campus was finally silent and not as busy as it usually was in the early morning hours. The cold weather also helped in keeping the garden a little quieter as most people preferred to stay inside the warm corridors and classrooms. But the chilly air was good, it soothed my nerves and erased thoughts that weren’t productive. Similar to that, were the emotions that I didn’t want to deal with again, like the guilt that’s never left me ever since Mingi walked out of my house wearing Yunho’s old clothes. It felt wrong letting him take them without knowing the truth about them, but I didn’t feel ready to tell him yet about the truth. I was scared, surprisingly, of what he’d think of me once he found out about Yunho and I. I was scared that—he’d walk away, like Yunho had once done. And that was a very frightening thought. But when had I become so attached to Mingi? When has Mingi managed to infiltrate himself so thoroughly in my life, that the thought of completely losing him became scary? And why was I taking the past few days so badly? It’s not like we were as close as Seulgi and I, or him and Seonghwa and Wooyoung, yet, ignoring him felt like the wrong move to do. However, the reasoning I always circled back to was the fact that I needed space. I had to clear my mind, to find the purpose of this whole friendship that’s been blooming between us, and to make sense of everything. I had to figure out first why Yunho barely scraped my thoughts now, and why was it was Mingi who I found myself thinking of so often. In case you were wondering, no, I still haven’t found the reason, and it was becoming frustrating quite quickly. That near kiss was a—mistake. Yet, it could have been so much worse—it could have been a real kiss. And a real kiss would have ruined everything. I didn’t want to open up to anyone just yet, not when the memories of Yunho still haunted me in my dreams and drawings. Drawings that now more often than not consisted of Song Mingi.
And to my horror, the flipping of paper sheets is what alerted me back to my surroundings as I had been lost in my thoughts, oblivious to Seulgi putting her phone down and grabbing my sketchbook that lay between the two of us on the bench. As I turned my head, my eyes widened as Seulgi’s expression held surprise but amusement as well. She chuckled as she looked up, making eye contact with me. I lunged forward in an instant, trying to take my sketchbook out of her hands, but she leaned back and away, putting it behind herself.
“Bitch, I’m not the only one who’s down bad for a man.” She said with a laugh, making me groan as I gave up trying to snatch my sketchbook back from her.
“I’m not down bad for a man, Seulgi, stop this non-sense.” I hissed, cheeks burning in embarrassment as she kept flipping through my drawings.
“Please,” She scoffed, turning my sketchbook around and making me grimace as I came face to face with an exact replica of Mingi, sitting in his chair, at his studio that one time he invited me inside, “Who the fuck draws so many drawings of one single person if they aren’t in love with them—”
“I’m not in love with Mingi, stop it!” I exclaimed, heart beating fast as Seulgi raised her eyebrows at me, looking unimpressed, “Don’t ever again say that, Seulgi.”
“Okay, calm down, whatever. You’re not in love with Mingi.” She chuckled, closing my sketchbook but she didn’t hand it back yet, “But let’s face it, Y/N, you have a thing for Mingi. It’s super freaking obvious even without the drawings.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I hissed and finally snatched the sketchbook out of her hands, clutching it to my chest. I knew bringing this along today would turn out to be a mistake, and here I was, facing the repercussions of my actions.
“There’s this glint in your eyes whenever you look at him—”
“Yeah, it’s called dislike.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
“And I see how you struggle to refrain yourself from smiling when you’re around him—”
“Bitch, be for real, Mingi and I aren’t even often together around you for you to notice that.” I scoffed, completely appealed by whatever absurd claims my best friend was making.
“So you’re not denying it—would it really be so bad if you liked Mingi?” But Seulgi ignored all my interruption as she raised her eyebrows at me, smiling softly, “He’s a nice guy. Very well-mannered and with a big, and good heart. Wooyoung loves him a lot and is always worrying about him. He says Mingi hasn’t been the same ever since his best friend moved away for college—”
“Mingi is Yunho’s best friend!” I blurted out before I could stop myself, finally feeling like a stone was taken off my chest as I bit my lower lip, averting my eyes from Seulgi’s shocked expression, “Mingi is the best friend Yunho had always talked so much about while we were together. I—do you understand why it would be so bad if I ended up liking Mingi?”
“Y/N,” Seulgi whispered, eyebrows furrowed, “for how long have you know?”
“Long enough.” I muttered before clearing my throat, “So please understand that I’m not ready for whatever the hell me drawing all those sketches of Mingi could mean. A month ago I was close to bursting out crying even at the thought of Yunho, and now I fail to remember his existence on my best days.”
When I dared take a peek at Seulgi, she was smiling softly, almost proudly, “Fine, I’ll pester you about this later on, when you’ve figured things out, but until then—you can’t deny Mingi isn’t hot—”
“Can we stop talking about Min—”
“Hi, girls!” I jumped in fright at the overly excited and shrill greeting as both Seulgi and I turned our heads to be met with…Wooyoung and Mingi. Speak of the devil. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat, and my heart started beating just a little bit faster as my eyes fell on Mingi’s tall form. It didn’t help that underneath his coat he was wearing Yunho’s sweater—the one I had given him.
“Hi.” Seulgi giggled as Wooyoung leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek, the two looking sickly in love. It was actually endearing, but I’d never admit it out loud for my own sake as I knew I’d get teased about it by Seulgi. I averted my eyes from Wooyoung and Seulgi as they were muttering things to each other, and so, had no choice but to look up at Mingi, who looked—expressionless. Something in my stomach dropped at his cold demeanor, and it was worse that I wanted to assume it was my fault that he looked like that. But just as I was about to look away, he cracked the tiniest smile ever, and I exhaled, licking my lips.
“Hi.” My voice was small as I gulped, eyes trans-fixated on the tall man as his smile became just a little wider. I don’t think I had the power to ignore him anymore, not when he was standing right in front of me, looking like he wished to be anywhere but here.
“Hi, Y/N.” Having not heard his voice in days, it sounded even deeper and raspier than usually, making butterflies erupt in my stomach as my grip tightened around my sketchbook. I felt a little awkward, perhaps even tense, as Mingi didn’t say anything else, just continued gazing down at me with his sharp dark brown eyes boring into my own. I had so many things that I could’ve said to him, but I felt tongue tied. I didn’t know what would be the right way to approach him after I ignored him for so many days. Would he understand? Is he mad at me now? Does he hate me now? Will he forgive me—
“Okay,” Wooyoung chuckled, syllable drawn out and sounding amused, “I feel like I’m interrupting something here, yet they are basically just staring at each other.”
“You’re right.” Seulgi giggled, and I finally looked away from Mingi, throwing a glare at my best friend as she had leaned into Wooyoung’s side, who stood next to the bench and her.
“Shush, you two.” Mingi beat me to telling the two love-birds off, and I couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong to.”
“Look who’s lecturing me about poking my nose where it doesn’t belong to—”
“Wooyoung.” Mingi’s tone held a warning, and it made Wooyoung giggle as he leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against Seulgi’s cheek—again—making her push him away playfully.
“We’re headed to class, are you coming over later?” Wooyoung smiled down at his girlfriend, playing with a strand of her hair.
“Maybe, if I get to finish my project.” Seulgi said with a pout and Wooyoung hummed, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips this time around. I averted my eyes, not a fan of seeing couples kiss, only to catch Mingi already looking at me. He was expressionless once again, but he was fidgeting with his fingers, looking almost nervous. And as Wooyoung stood up straight and ruffled Seulgi’s hair affectionately, Mingi took a deep breath.
“Will you come to Outlaw this Friday?” He asked in a rush, sounding almost reluctant as his eyebrows furrowed slightly and he chewed on his lower lip. To my horror, I found my eyes fixated on his plush mouth and I gulped before I quickly averted my eyes, praying that nobody caught it.
“Yes.” I answered before Seulgi could, and nodded, smiling a little bit, “I won’t miss it.”
A beautiful smile spread on Mingi’s lips and he nodded once, looking too happy for something so little. I don’t think I’ll understand anytime soon why he gets so excited and happy when I listen to his songs or watch him perform. I’m no expert when it comes to music, my feedback is merely amateur and I’m not even a fan of his band yet.
“Cool, see you then.” And Mingi didn’t wait for Wooyoung as he turned around and walked away, steps hurried. I didn’t miss the confused glance Wooyoung and Seulgi shared before Wooyoung was off, chasing after his best friend. And maybe I would be soon able to make sense of my thoughts and feelings around Mingi, figure out what they meant and why they felt so real at times.
            Monday (16:58 pm)
I hate him: hi Me: hi I hate him: would it be a lot if i asked to meet u tomorrow? Me: no, im free in the afternoon I hate him: cool, me too so uh…we can hang out in my studio? Me: or we can go to that new café with pottery I hate him: really? Me: u did say u wanted us to go… I hate him: i certainly said so i’ll pick u up around 4 Me: u don’t have to i’ll meet you there I hate him: come on, y/n…let me drive u Me: u’ve driven me around too many times by now i’ll meet u there and that’s final. I hate him: okay, boss, see ya there Me: :))
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            Getting here before four o’clock and having to wait in front of the cute café had no business being this nerve-wrecking. Yeah, Mingi hasn’t shown up yet—but perhaps that’s because there were still ten minutes until it’d be four—and I knew I had no reason to think he’d bail on me, but we hadn’t spoken since yesterday, when he had asked me if we could hang out. And so, waiting for him shouldn’t have had me breaking out in a sweat despite the cold weather, making me bite my lower lip harshly as I tried to smooth down the wool, green, brown, and beige patterned coat I was wearing. First of all, why the hell would I be so nervous about meeting up with Mingi alone at this cute café? He probably wanted to talk about that near kiss, and once we had that cleared, things would go back to normal—right?!
And maybe that was the reason which made me want to vomit on the sidewalk, the thought that I knew Mingi would demand answers—answers that I wasn’t yet ready to hand out. Why did I even agree to this? Because I missed him? I should have just stayed at home and done the project I’ve been procrastinating on—again. But when I heard the rumble of Mingi’s old Honda’s engine, I knew there was no turning back, catching the bus and running home to hide underneath my blanket.
As Mingi took his time to parallel park, I took a deep breath and gripped onto the strap of my tote bag harder, looking down at myself. My apricot orange sneakers matched the color of my blouse, the top two buttons out of five undone, but not showing too much skin. My blouse was tucked inside my washed out high waisted mom jeans, the black belt matching the color of my tote bag—I know black isn’t a color, I’m an arts major after all. My hair was pulled in a low ponytail just to prevent the wind from blowing it in my face, and I was thankful that I chose my wool coat as it kept me warm enough. I have opted to wear quite a few rings today, and because my neck felt too exposed, I decorated it with three necklaces of different length. I gulped hard one last time as Mingi got out of his car and took a few seconds until he managed to lock it. However, those few seconds were exactly what I needed to prepare myself to not pass out at the full sight of him.
Mingi, in true fashion to him, wore all black, except for his jeans that were a very dark shade of blue, almost black too. His turtleneck was tucked inside his jeans, a black coat with a hood keeping him warm from the cold late autumn weather. It almost made me smile upon seeing his own tote bag, black, and funnily matching mine. Except that his was plain, while mine had Claude Monet’s Water-Lily Pond painting painted on it, done by none other than yours truly, me. Mingi’s eyes were concealed by black sunglasses, and I snorted as he almost splashed himself up by stepping a little too enthusiastically into a big puddle. Two necklaces hung around his neck, reaching down his chest. A very obvious and sturdy silver cross necklace, and another longer chain that had pearls scarcely strung on it.  And in true Song Mingi fashion, his rings weren’t missing, only two of his nails painted black on each hand, almost as if he didn’t have time to finish doing them. My heart racing in my chest so fast just at the mere sight of him, certainly wasn’t healthy, right?
“Hi!” I squeaked out and wished to burry myself instantly as Mingi chuckled, a very charming smile spreading onto his lips. It was a little annoying that I couldn’t see his eyes, forced to stare at his plush lips instead—let’s be real, nobody forced me, I did it because I couldn’t help myself, “The sun is quite blinding today, isn’t it?”
And of course, in good old fashion, my mouth worked before my brain would agree to saying something out loud, and my cheeks were burning as I knew Mingi saw me look at his lips. I had to divert the attention somehow, and teasing him was my best method, actually. It always worked.  
“I’m trying to make a fashion statement,” Mingi grinned as he gripped the sunglasses and took them off in a very unnaturally hot way, “but hello to you too.”
“No need for a fashion statement when it’s just the two of us,” I narrowed my eyes, finding Mingi’s hair very soft and fluffy looking, almost as if he had recently washed it, and it wasn’t completely dry, “I’m not one of your fans.”
“Pity,” Mingi hummed, stepping slightly closer to me, “I thought I might just finally wove you.”
I scoffed, and as I was about to tell him off, he grabbed my tote bag and pulled me after himself, headed for the entrance of the café, “Did you have to wait long for me? Traffic was busier today, I had to take a few detours to get here in time.”
“Don’t worry,” I smiled as he opened the door for me and let me walk inside first, “I only waited half an hour for you to arrive, runway princess.”
“Runway princess?!” Mingi’s eyes bulged for a second before he started laughing loudly, making a few customers glance our way as we made it inside the café. I elbowed him in the stomach gently, not too keen of having people glare at us as he disturbed their peace.
“Don’t like the nickname?” I asked with a raised brow as we neared the front desk. The cashier had a friendly smile on her face while she greeted us as Mingi and I looked up at the menu, trying to decide what we’d like to have.
“Never said that,” Mingi answered with a chuckle as he threw me a quick glance, “it’s just surprising coming from you.”
“Why, can’t I call you a princess?” I chuckled, turning to face the cashier as I have made up my mind about what I’d like to have.
“Up until now you seemed to prefer the term ‘bro’, but I’m fine with whatever you decide on calling me, doll.” The look the cashier gave us made my cheeks flame up and I cleared my throat loudly, shooting Mingi a look that told him to shut up.
“Sorry about that,” I muttered embarrassed, smiling at the cashier, “can I get a strawberry cheesecake?”
“Sure, right away, and you, sir?” Her attention was on Mingi now, cheeks flushing the longer she looked at him. Okay, I could totally understand why. Mingi looked quite good right now, it was hard not to ogle him.
“A mint-chocolate cheesecake and a cappuccino?” Mingi hummed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he looked down at the cashier.
“Plain cappuccino or with vanilla?” The cashier typed in our orders as she asked Mingi, averting her eyes shyly once he looked at her, pursing his lips.
“Plain,” He decided at last, turning to look at me, “are you not getting anything to drink?”
“An orange fresh will be alright.” I said as I reached inside my bag to fish around for my wallet.
“And would you also like to paint some pottery?” The cashier asked, pointing behind herself at all the displayed options. Mingi and I shared a look and I smiled as I nodded at him, making him grin from ear to ear.
“Yeah, we’ll paint some pottery too. Can I have a cup?” He asked, pointing at one on the higher shelf. It was a smaller cup, specifically made for drinking coffee. The cashier nodded and then looked at me expectantly.
“Uh, a mug will do for me.” I said and thanked her once she handed us the pottery and the paint that was used for painting these. Then, she tapped a few more on her tablet and told us the total. I opened my wallet to pay for my purchase, but Mingi had a card in his hands, the cashier already typing in the total sum for him to pay.
“Mingi,” I hissed quietly, looking at him with a frown, “what are you doing?”
“It was my idea to come here—”
“No, it wasn’t.” I cut him off, fingers curling into the scratchy fabric of his coat as I reached out to hold it, “I suggested we come here instead of going to your studio.”
Mingi sighed and pocketed his card, already having paid, then turned his body to face mine. I didn’t let go of his coat just yet, “Yeah, but when I drove you home during that downpour I asked you if you’d come here with me. So technically, it was my idea. Initially, anyways, it really was.”
“Mingi—” I started, but soon swallowed my words as he stepped closer, invading my personal space. My fingers tightened more into his coat and I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous due to our proximity. He faintly smelled of vanilla, it was a fragrance I didn’t except to smell on him.
“Can you not fight me on this one, please?” Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes softened up and I—struggled to breathe for a second as I stared up in his pleading eyes, mouth going dry. He looked—adorable like this, and I did not like the way I felt myself getting lost in his soft gaze.
“Let’s find a table.” I muttered, forcing myself out of the trance he placed on me, and grabbed my mug and the painting supplies. Mingi followed suit as he took his own cup and followed after me closely. We walked further inside the café and found a smaller table in the next room, closer towards the window. The walls were painted a faint orange and were decorated by white stripes that created abstract shapes. The chandeliers were white and hung low, the place well-lit for those who wished to paint pottery.
I placed the things in my hands on the table carefully, and then discarded my coat on the back of my chair and my tote bag by the leg of the table, pulling my chair out for myself. Mingi followed suit, however, he managed to almost send his cup tumbling to the floor when he took his seat. His eyes were wide as he just barely caught the cup, and I giggled as I watched him while opening the box that held all the paint. Thankfully, the table was spacious enough to harbor both our pottery and paints as the cashier brought out our delicacies. She threw Mingi a lasting look before she hurried back to the front desk, glancing our way at times.
“This is going to be a tough one.” Mingi said before scooping up a bit of his cheesecake with his little spoon.
“Why?” I asked with a chuckle, choosing a thin brush to start painting some flowers on my mug. My cheesecake could wait.
“Because I’m literally sat at a table with an arts major, having to decorate some cup by painting.” Mingi sounded stressed and I chuckled as I looked up at him, amused by his expression. His hair fell in his eyes a bit, and I found myself absentmindedly reaching over the table to brush it to the side. Almost as if realizing at the same time what I had done, we both froze. It felt like time stilled around us as I watched Mingi with a gaping mouth, slowly but surely, my cheeks becoming the color of a fire hydrant. But Mingi wasn’t better off as he bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes shyly as his cheeks turned the faint color of pink. Clearing my throat and accidentally choking as I hastily pulled my hand back, I averted my eyes and fought for my life to not choke. Thank God the orange juice was right there, I quickly took three large gulps.
“Th—thanks.” Mingi stuttered, staring at the table as he licked his lips, “Uh, it’s gotten long, my hair, I mean, I have to cut it when I get the time.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, grabbing my mug and chewing on my bottom lip in embarrassment—God, could the Earth swallow me up right now? Why the hell did I do that?! “Yeah.”
“Do you think I should change it up a little?” I paused as I had dipped my brush in red paint, and slowly looked up at Mingi, “Do something fun with it—like going blonde?”
“I hate blonde hair.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Nice one, idiot. Yunho was blonde while we were together, and thus, yeah, I’ve hated blondes ever since. And to be fair—and this is not me shitting on my ex—but that hair color did not suit Yunho at all.
“Oh, noted.” Mingi whispered, pouting a little. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hating myself for the weird atmosphere I have created.
“Mingi, you can do whatever you want with your hair.” I spoke up, leaning down to try and look him in the eyes as he was busy staring at the table, “My opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your hair. Go crazy with it, have fun, try out something new. Really.”
“But do you think it would suit me?” Mingi was still pouting as he finally looked up at me, looking quite crestfallen. My eyebrows furrowed and I tried to imagine him with blonde hair. He was quite blessed with his skin complex as most colors looked good on him, but perhaps I preferred Mingi with dark hair—black hair, more specifically. Like he had it right now. He looked—good. Handsome, even. Completely gorgeous. Fuck.
“I think it would suit you.” I settled on saying that. He didn’t have to know my train of thought, like at all. Mingi hummed in appreciation, and I watched as he reached inside his tote bag, pulling out a case that held his glasses. He took it out of the case and put it on, pushing it up on the bridge of his nose. He grinned when he looked at me and I chuckled, shaking my head as I looked down at my mug, finally starting to decorate it.
“There goes the cool, mysterious, hot celebrity act.” I teased under my breath, not expecting Mingi to hear me. But he did, and he started laughing, giving me a cheeky grin.
“Not quite a celebrity yet, but at least you admit I am hot.” Of course he was smirking as I gave him a deadpanned look, about to argue him on his statement, but he didn’t let me as he continued talking, “By the way, let’s exchange our cups when we are done. The mug will be mine and the cup will be yours.”
I tried to fight the smile off my lips, “So that you get the artwork of a talented artist for free to sell for an outrageous price later on when I’m famous?”
“I fear you have misjudged my character, doll.” Mingi’s eyes narrowed playfully, but there was truth to his words. I might just have misjudged his character.
“I still think you’re arrogant and selfish.”
“Of course you do, didn’t except anything less from you.” Mingi winked and then looked down, his cheesecake forgotten as he started decorating his cup, tongue just barely sticking out as he concentrated hard on whatever he had in mind to paint onto the cup. I chuckled and shook my head before focusing on my own mug, the silence that’s settle around us comfortable, as always.
            Mingi and I were the quietest table in the café as we worked in silence diligently in, painting our own pottery. Mingi, at times, would hum along quietly to the songs that were played on the radio. Despite his cup being smaller and easier to paint, I finished painting mine before him, and so, I took the time to savor my cheesecake even if it had gotten warm and a little too soft. Mingi was hunched over in his seat, glasses low on the bridge of his long nose, with his full lips either pursed or with the bottom one bitten as his eyebrows would furrow every time he almost made a mistake. It was a funny sight, and I grabbed my phone without thinking much, and snapped a few pictures of him, leaning lower and even closer to his face to get the funny angles, all while Mingi remained oblivious to it. I chuckled as I looked at the pictures I had taken of him, looking at him when I felt eyes on me.
“What’s so funny?” He asked curiously, eyeing my phone for a second.
“You.” I chuckled and stuck my tongue out as Mingi rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he heaved a long sigh.
“I’m finally done.” He grinned and I looked down at his cup, taking in the yellow chicks he had painted quite—clumsily. Well, not all of us had the skills of a painter—not that it was an issue or anything—it’s just that it’s been long since I had seen someone have the skills of a—kindergartner, “It’s pretty sick, huh?”
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from giggling and nodded with my eyebrows furrowed, “I’d give it a seventy out of a hundred mark.”
“Hey! That’s too low!” Mingi said, looking offended. I chuckled before shrugging.
“You’ll have to work on your skills for a higher mark.”
“Fine, next time you come to the studio, I’ll make you sing.” Mingi raised his eyebrows, making me narrow my eyes at him playfully.
“Oh, I didn’t know we are in a competition.”
“We weren’t, until now.” He winked and then stood, grabbing my mug and his own cup carefully as he took it to the front desk for drying. I gathered the items we had used to paint the pottery with to place them back in the box, and couldn’t help it but sneak a glance at Mingi. He was leaned up against the front counter, grinning widely at the cashier as she spoke to him, using her hands for big gestures as she was probably explaining something. My eyes narrowed as Mingi leaned slightly closer to her, only to detach himself from the front desk and walk back towards our table. I looked away and busied myself with my glass of orange juice.
“So, we’ll get them delivered to our houses once they are dry and all.” He said with a smile, sitting down, “I hope you don’t mind I gave her your address too.”
“I don’t.” I muttered, chewing on the straw for a second, “I didn’t think you’d know my address.”
“Well,” Mingi flattened his hands on the surface of the table, “I’ve been to your house twice now. I think it’s only right I remember your address, doll.”
“Right,” I muttered, “you’ve been to my house.”
Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and I figured he didn’t like the tone of my voice. But before I could correct myself and explain that I had nothing against that, he spoke up, “Y/N, I—I didn’t mean to scare you or—I don’t know—make you think that I want anything from you. I mean—we are friends, and I respect you as a woman and as a friend, and I know we almost—kissed. But I—I don’t want you to think that I’m playing some sort of game with you to get—to get in your pants. I’m your friend. And even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t do that to you.”
Hearing him say all that felt wrong. I didn’t deserve any explanation from him. I was the one that’s overreacted that day, and Mingi was the one that deserved an explanation and apology from me for the way I have acted. I knew I couldn’t completely open up to him right now, that some parts of the truth had to be omitted today, but he also deserved to know why I had pulled back. And I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t his fault for the way I reacted to everything.
“Mingi,” I offered him a small smile and gripped my empty glass for some support, “If you think you are the reason why I ignored you, please, stop thinking that. It’s—we both leaned in, okay? We were both about to kiss each other, it’s not like you initiated it or forced me to do something I didn’t want to. And nothing even happened, for God’s sake. I reacted that way because I—”
When I paused, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned over the table, gently poking my hand with his ring clad fore-finger, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable sharing it, Y/N.”
“But I want you to know this, Mingi.” I averted my eyes and took a deep breath, embracing myself for what I was about to tell him, “I had a boyfriend back in high-school who completely broke my heart, shattered it into pieces. And I know that happened a long time ago, and yes, I am over him, but I—I am scared people will treat me like he had treated me. I’m scared that if I let you close, you’ll just—leave. Like he did. And I know ignoring you for days was very shitty of me and I shouldn’t have done that—because quite frankly, Mingi, you deserve better—I just didn’t know what to do. I needed a few days to myself, to figure things out. It’s a bad excuse, but it’s the truth, and I think you deserve to know it. Since we are friends.”
Mingi’s face conveyed no emotion for a few seconds and I gulped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Did he figure it out now? That I was talking about Yunho? That maybe I have started feeling something for him too, for Mingi? Would he stand up and leave? But to my surprise, a wide smile stretched onto his lips and he hummed, adjusting his glasses on his nose.
“Thank you for trusting me, it means a lot that you told me all that.” I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the table abashedly, “And I was never mad at you for ignoring me. I completely understand you, Y/N, and for the record, I have zero intentions of leaving you. And your ex is a fucking asshole for breaking your heart like that, tell me who he is and I’ll beat him up when I cross paths with him.”
There was nothing funny about what Mingi had said, especially since he was talking about his best friend, but the comically tough look on his face made me snort loudly as I shielded my mouth with my hand, trying to stop myself from laughing too loudly. Mingi started grinning like an idiot, his giggles deep, and making something coil in my stomach. When has Song Mingi become adorable instead of annoying?
“I doubt you’d want to kick his ass once you find out who he is…” I grimaced once that was out of my mouth, regretting it instantly. What was it about today that I couldn’t keep my thoughts and mouth in check? It was turning really frustrating.
“So, you plan on telling me one day?” Mingi wriggled his eyebrows, making me snort, “Like real besties gossiping and shit.”
“You never fail to make me cringe when you call us besties, Mingi.” I shook my head, taking a glance at my wrist watch. Oh, the time had flown away, it was well past five now, and the sun was going down. I’d probably have to head home soon to have dinner with my mother. I was becoming hungry too.
“Well, that’s what we are so…” He cleared his throat before slowly standing up, making me look up at him, “Did you know today we’re celebrating the Festival of Light?”
“Nope, I had no idea.” I shook my head, standing up too as Mingi wore his coat, “I don’t follow the events our city organizes.”
“Pity, it’s really pretty.” Mingi pouted, waiting for me as I grabbed my tote bag and pocketed my phone, “Should we check it out?”
“I mean…maybe?” I shrugged and Mingi beckoned me over as he crossed his arm with mine, making me chuckle as I looked up at him. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his sneakers had a thick sole and they made him even taller, “Where is this festival held at?”
“Just down the street, at the Citadel.” Mingi smiled as he led the way out of the café, waving at the barista as she blushed again, making me chuckle as I subconsciously nuzzled up against Mingi’s side, the air chilly as the sun had set by now.
“That barista totally has a crush on you.” I found myself saying as we walked down the sidewalk, trying to avoid crashing into the people that came towards us. Yeah, there certainly was an event on-going in the city, otherwise you wouldn’t see so many people out and about around this time. Everyone preferred staying inside after the sun had set, not keen of the cold nights.
“You think so?” Mingi mused, bottom lip jutting out as he narrowly avoided a child that was running around, “I didn’t notice.”
“You must be really dense then.” I snorted, eyebrows furrowing as I looked up at him, “She was constantly blushing, and she was totally looking at you with hearts in her eyes.”
“How do you know when someone is looking at you with heart eyes?” Mingi’s question threw me off, and I detached myself from his side, clearing my throat as I looked ahead, pushing my hands in my pockets. He was warm, it made me realize as the cold bit at my skin now that I wasn’t nuzzled up by his side anymore.
“Well, they have this look in their eyes, you know? It’s warm, and soft, and it lasts.” I explained, feelings my cheeks heat up, “And their eyes always linger on you when you aren’t watching them. It’s like…puppy eyes, I suppose? I wouldn’t actually know, Mingi, nobody’s ever looked at me like that.”
When there was no response, I looked back to find Mingi looking at me intensely. My eyebrows furrowed as we have arrived to the Citadel, the gates open for the visitors of the festival. The place was packed, this wouldn’t be so fun anymore. I would’ve turned around and walked back home if I didn’t see how excited Mingi was when I agreed to come check it out.
“There’s lots of people here.” Mingi muttered, and then walked closer to me as I led the way inside, a little baffled by his reaction to my answer. I just merely gave an answer based on my beliefs. It was him that was acting weird now. But as I looked at him, I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore, that he wanted us to drop the subject. His last comment was a way to veer the conversation in a different direction. What was it about us today making everything weird? I sighed and just walked further inside, trying to avoid the big crowd which seemed almost impossible as it stretched on and on. The Citadel, however, was beautiful as it was coated in darkness, only the little paper lamps and fairy lights illuminating the place. It had a certain aura to it, almost romantic, and I soon found myself smiling as we walked down the cobblestone path, still trying to avoid people and stick close to each other’s sides. The air was chilly but the walls of the Citadel did a great job at keeping the breeze out, and the crowd certainly kept the place warmer than it was outside the stone walls.
I found myself admiring the décor in wonder, my mouth hanging open as I took in all the little lamps placed down on the ground, following the cobblestone paths, illuminating our way. It was truly beautiful, it almost felt like the scene was taken out of a fairytale. I found myself filled with excitement and happiness as I turned to grin at Mingi.
“This is so beautiful!” I giggled, absentmindedly grabbing the sleeve of his coat and dragging him away from the path and into the dying grass as there was a panel covered with paper, and people were writing on it. Mingi remained silent, but as I searched around for a pen or pencil, I felt him watching me, “What, do you not want to write something?”
“If you manage to find a marker or pen, I will, sure.” He said with a shrug, adjusting the strap of his tote bag before he pushed his hands deep in his pockets. I chuckled and looked around for a marker, but it was hard to see it in the darkness whether they were laying around in the grass or not. To my surprise, a little girl standing next to me looked up at me with a small smile on her lips, and offered me her purple-coloured marker, saying she was done with her drawing. I thanked her with a chuckle and turned to face Mingi with a grin.
“I found one!” Mingi chuckled and took the marker from my hands, being able to reach high up where the paper was still empty, due to his height. The panel was illuminated from the inside so you could actually see what was written on the paper. I watched him as he wrote on the paper, hesitating for a second, before he stepped back and handed me the marker. I raised up on my tip toes curiously, and craned my neck to see what he’s written. ‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’
I felt a smile spread onto my lips as I looked back at Mingi, who’s expression was serious and almost sad-looking as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his tall nose. I craned my neck back once more to gaze at the dark sky, at the moon, and indeed, there she was, beautiful and shining brightly. It was a new moon. Taking a swift glance at Mingi, I raised back on my tip toes and stood close to the panel, reaching up, just underneath Mingi’s writing. Thankfully, I could reach just bellow it, and I grinned as I quickly drew a new moon, adding a little shading to it and dents as well, creating the illusion of a real moon. Mingi remained silent as I took a step back, admiring our work. I handed the marker to another child as I fished my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture quickly of our artwork.
“The moon turned out beautifully.” Mingi commented once we had stepped away from the panel to let others draw too, headed back onto the cobblestone path.
“Still, it’s not as beautiful as the real one, but I tried my best.” I chuckled as I crossed my arms in front of my chest for a second, avoiding a man as he wasn’t looking in front of himself as he raced down the path. Mingi threw him a displeased look before looking down at me.
“Your drawings and paintings are always beautiful, Y/N.” Mingi said and I found myself blushing, thankful that it was so dark he wouldn’t be able to see it. I uncrossed my arms and turned my body a little to face him. There was music coming from one path, the one which led to the southern part of the Citadel.
“Are you nervous about Friday?” I found myself asking him as Mingi veered us towards where the music was coming from. He looked at me for a second, and then shook his head.
“I’m rarely nervous when we have to perform.” He said nonchalantly, the back of his hand brushing lightly against mine. My heart did a somersault against my ribcage, but I ignored it.
“Oh, you’re such a cool guy.” I teased him with narrowed eyes, making Mingi chuckle.
“I rarely get nervous, to be honest, even less when it comes to performing.” He hummed, looking up at the dark sky for a second, “I trust myself and my bandmates that everything will go well, so, there’s no actual reason to feel nervous.”
“But I’ll be there on Friday, that still doesn’t make you feel nervous?” My question was meant to be teasing, part of our playful banter, but the way Mingi gulped and quickly averted his eyes told me that perhaps I hit the nail spot-on. Well, now I have turned things awkward again. I sighed loudly, chewing on my bottom lip as Mingi remained silent, the two of us walking down the narrow path as the music became louder as we were nearing the stage. Jazz music was playing, the lady who was singing had a powerful and smooth voice that carried over the crowd neatly. There were a few people dancing in the crowd.
“Perhaps having you there will make me nervous.” Mingi’s voice was barely above a whisper and I tensed when I felt his pinkie brush against my own, making me clench my hand into a fist. But a very quiet voice inside my head demanded me to accept Mingi’s subtle request, and willing my heart to stop hammering so hard in my chest, I relaxed my hand and slowly slipped it into Mingi’s. If he stopped walking for a milli-second, I didn’t say anything about it, and he also ignored it. His grip turned firm as he intertwined our fingers together, gently pulling me closer into his side as he smiled at a mother who apologised for his son almost running into us.
I gulped and kept my eyes ahead of me, too nervous to look at Mingi. Holding his hand like this meant nothing in particular, but it was a nice feeling. It made my cheeks warms and heart race. And I didn’t have to look at Mingi to know he was smiling like crazy, his cheeks just as red as mine as we came to a stop behind the dancing people.
Have I started falling for Song Mingi?
『It's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
I'm just saying it's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
You, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
You're what I've been chasing
Show me where my days went』
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❱❱ Next chapter
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so...the festival of light scene was totally inspired by me and my bestie attending it in our city lol; it was sooo beautiful and the pictures in the moodboard were actually taken by us; also, her and I kept laughing about the romantic vibes we were getting, all in all, we had a nice time...and OFC we make everything about Ateez so :))
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I wrote that LOL I'm like Mingi, tall enough to reach the top where people haven't scribbled onto yet lol
also, this is what y/n's outfit looks like for anyone wondering, except for the colors as they are the way I have described them in the scene ^^
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xxnghtclls · 6 months
Text
Flickering Lights
Chapter 2: A Tall, Pink Haired Man
Chapter (1/3)
True Form Sukuna x Reader
For tags and synopsis, please see Chapter 1!
Bam!
You slam the door shut behind you. Finally you’re home in your small apartment, still thinking about what happened in your office. Sitting down on one of your two chairs, you absentmindedly tap with your key into the surface of your kitchen table.
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.
“Who was that?” you mumble to yourself, while your leg is wiggling nervously. “Where and… why? Four eyes and four arms, too?”
A pause.
Tap. Tap.
“HOW?” you blurt out loudly and distort your face in confusion. Your brain is so tired.
Shaking your head, you decide to get up and get a hot shower.
-Monday me- is going to have a huge problem, leaving the office like this.
“This” meaning a broken window, a crack in the floor and the wall. Your computer is for the trashcan, too. A fucking mess.
Motherfucker. 
You kind of hope it was a dream, a hallucination or a lightning. Monday you will get back to your same old habit, going to work and writing emails, lists and calculations. And then Tuesday. And then Wednesday. Thursday. Friday.
Sigh.
Rashhhhh
You close the shower curtain in front of your face and turn on the water. Warm steamy drops are tickling your face and calming your nerves. Sleepiness washes over you with the steamy warmth and you’re quick to finish soaping you up. You let out a big yawn, as you turn off the water and step out. 
“Time for bed.” you sigh, before you brush your teeth and dry yourself. Taking your phone with you, you carry yourself up the ladder to your elevated sleeping space. The perks of living in tokyo.
Mini studio apartments.
Crawling onto the futon, you pull the blanket up to your nose. A last time you peek onto your phone, before your eyes shut themselves.
- 01:38 a.m. -
“Goodnight...” you mumble, before you fall asleep. “Stranger.”
♫ Up with the sun, gone with the wind, she always said I was lazy-
“The fuck?” you breathe into the darkness, still half asleep, as you peek onto your phone, trying not to get blind from your display brightness.
- 6:00 a.m. - 
“Ughhh shut up, Bob.” you groan, as you shut your alarm off. You must have forgotten to adjust the settings in your alarm to workweek only, after you had to get up for an out of schedule meeting last saturday. 
But, today is free.
You close your eyes and think about what you want to do today.
Get new earphones perhaps. Get groceries. Find out who…who…  
Zzzzz…
After a moment, you send another peek to your phone.
- 10:12 a.m. -
“Good morning sunshine.” you grumble to your sleepy self, before you yawn and stretch. “Sorry Bob, now you can sing.” you mumble and put on Bob Seger’s song that ripped you out of sleep earlier. 
-play-
“Travelin maan, love when I caan. Turn loose my hand ‘cause I’m goiingg.” you sing, as you’re making yourself some eggs for breakfast, checking your social media inbetween. You roll your eyes, as you read that there’s some unnecessary discourse over something unimportant AGAIN and you swear to yourself, that you’re going to delete that app sooner or later. It just makes you angry. 
Fucking idiots.
Your eggs are ready and you sit down, take a bite and text your bestie Mio. 
Oy. Akiba in 45 mins?
👍
Good. Need new headphones. Mine broke last night.
No wonder. Get some real ones.
You huff at her text.
“No way.” you smile, as you’re putting your phone away and shove the last bite of eggs into your mouth. You need to get dressed quickly, in order to catch the next train to Akihabara. 
On your trainride, you stare out of the window across from you. Listen to the railway and see the houses passing by, the sun shining onto the roofs, before the train goes underground again. Silhouettes and moving lights run along the window.
Moving lights. Flickering lights.
And suddenly you remember last night. 
What happened?
That creature, that… man. 
How unusual he looked and how his eyes pierced through your soul. 
Uncanny. 
You wonder if you should tell Mio about it. 
Maybe not…
Maybe it was a dream or a hallucination or a lightning after all.
…That rip in space definitely.
But what if he was not?
“Excuse me, is everything alright?” an elderly woman that’s sitting right next to you asks you. 
You must’ve zoned out, looking so concentrated… maybe even, as if you’re constipated or something. 
“No, I’m fine. Sorry- I mean, thank you.” you force a smile at her, before you pull out your phone to look busy at least.
And you start to scroll on your socials. 
And scroll.
And scroll. 
And scroll.
Not thinking anything, just remembering that man’s face. Those tattoos. The nose.
Kinda pretty nose, you think as your lips turn into a pout.
Two slits in his eyebrows.
That mask.
So interesti-
Wait what?
Interesting…?
Sigh.
…He is.
You get out at Suehirocho Station and walk to the next 7-eleven, the point where you’re going to meet with Mio. She’s not there yet, so you decide to walk in and buy an Onigiri. 
Only one? 
No, two. 
For later. 
Of course you open the first one immediately and bite into it. The first bite is always the best.
Goddamn.
You love it. Closing your eyes, to savour the taste, you stand in front of the store, enjoying the bliss.
“Oy, peanut!” Mio’s voice comes up behind you. You turn around and nudge your head to her, shooting her a look. 
“What’s up?” you say with your mouth full.
“Got one for me, too?” she eyes your Onigiri.
“No.” you bite into it another time.  
She cocks her eyebrows at you, probably already knowing that you bought two and that you don’t want to share, before a little pout cracks upon her lips.
“Get your own!” you complain, before she pokes her finger into your arm. 
“I’ll get you some snacks later!” she coos.
“Fine!” complain and offer her a bite of your last piece. 
“Mwuah hah hah!” she laughs deeply in excitement, before she gulps down the whole remaining Onigiri. “I know you love me.”
“Ehhh.” you sigh, letting your shoulders sink, disappointed that she ate it all.
“Sorry.” she brushes off her hands on her jacket. “Anyway, let’s go, my greedy little peanut.” she says, before she hooks her arm into yours. “Did you cut your hair?” 
You laugh her question off, as you both start to walk into the city.
While on the search for new 5000 yen headphones, you both keep bullying each other lovingly, laugh and talk about the week. No matter how exhausting your workweek is, she always manages to distract your mind, makes you feel not as lonely. She really is the light of your week. 
You don’t really know how it came to this. To feel like this in this city of millions. You used to go out, to dance and fuck a guy every now and then. But maybe it was just the start of how you feel now. The nights of clubbing grew rare, the nights at the computer and phone listening to music grew more frequent. Because nothing could really satisfy it. This hole in your heart. Listening to music helps. Spending time with Mio helps, but only to a degree. Because you wish for a change in your life. More than work and eat and shower and sleep. More than everyday life.
However, you decide not to tell her about what happened last night. Maybe you’ve gone crazy after all. Even if you’re not, you still feel odd about it. Feel, like it might be the change you yearned for, an adventure. 
Feel like it only belongs to you.
Quickly you find some new headphones and earn a mocking joke from the side, while Mio continues to buy herself a new phone case. Huge, pink and with little glittery stones and charms.
So ugly.
“Don’t look at me like that, when you’re the one who walked around with a Hello Kitty phone for the longest time!” she complains.
“At least I wasn’t mistaken for a disco ball.” you sneer at her.
You walk to another store to get your promised snacks and after a while, when the hottest gossip is done being discussed, you catch yourself getting silent inbetween.
Because your mind wanders off.
Because you remember.
Those eyes.
Dangerous.
Sometimes she notices and throws you a glance, but you just wave it off, excuse it with sleepless nights because of work. 
And she buys it.
At least you hope she does.
“I need to get home.“ you sigh, as you arrive at the next train-station. “I still need to get some groceries. I’m gonna gonna see you next week?”
She sighs too and stops in her tracks. You turn and look to her, seeing her face turning serious. Suddenly the energy shifts. You halt and frown at her in confusion.
Something’s wrong.
“What?” you ask. 
“I need to tell you something.” she looks to the ground and it makes you worried.
“What is it?” you poke her shoulder. 
She hesitates.
“You’re gonna hate it…” she mumbles and your heart starts pounding. You hate situations like this. Last time she acted like this, she told you she lost the one pair of very expensive headphones you bought in your life. You hated her for it, but you learned your lesson. 
Crossing your arms, you keep staring at her, almost holding your breath, trying to remember what kind of item you possibly could’ve lent her recently.
A pause.
“I’ll be on a work trip.-”
“Jesus.” you complain, as you exhale loudly in relief, rolling your eyes.
“For the next week.” she continues, a smug smirk on her face. So proud, knowing to have you fooled so good. “Coming back on Sunday night.”
You sigh.
“I’ll manage!” you exclaim snobbish into her face, but deep down, you know it’s gonna be hard. You’re not gonna see her for two weeks and you’re gonna miss her. A lot. Next to the fact that you can’t meet up with her next weekend, she’ll be busy too and not be able to text you much during the week either.
She punches your shoulder, before you grab her sleeve.
“Come.” you tug on it. “We gotta wish you a safe travel and return.” you mumble, as you drag her with you.
“Huh?” she exclaims, but gives up and willingly walks down to the underground with you. 
“I didn’t go to the Meiji shrine in a while. Let’s hang up an Ema there.” you fiddle with her sleeve, as you’re both sitting next to each other in the train towards Yoyogi Station.
“Is everything alright?” she asks and you notice real concern in her voice. 
She knows something’s up.
“I think I need to go out more, Mio.” you mumble. “If you’re not here to cheer me up, I need to see someone else then.”
“Sounds as if you’re already have someone in mind.” she jokes and you feel the heat rising in your ears, feel caught.
“Yeah.” you fake-laugh, before you try to change the topic. “Where are you going next week?”
“We’re going to have some meetings in Gifu. But also team-building events, this sort of stuff.” she says, while fiddling with her new phone case and you nod.
“Never went there.” you respond. “Tell me if it’s nice, yes?” 
“Sure, little peanut.” she smiles, before she looks back at you. You smile back before, looking around in the wagon.
“Maybe you should go out while I’m gone.” she says, making you look back at her. “Try to focus less on work and have some fun. Treat yourself.” she punches you in your arm again. 
Hard.
“Ow!”
“It’s just work after all.”
“I shall.” you hiss, while you rub your hand over the soon-to-be bruise, as the train stops at Harajuku-Station.
After a short walk, Mio and you arrive at the entrance of the shrine. It’s busy, just like the last time you visited, but as soon as you walk through the Torii, it grows calmer with each second. You might not believe, that in you’re a city of millions, when you walk through the beautiful area around the shrine. Trees and plants seal yourself off the loud noises of the streets. 
Quiet.
Maybe I need a vacation.
“I’m thirsty.” Mio longingly says, as you walk past the huge Sake barrels. 
You snort at her comment.
“Mio Mio Mioooo.” you squeak like a bird. “You called me greedy.”
“That’s what you are.” she chimes. “I know you still have that second Onigiri in your jacket.”
“Shut your mouth.” you smile, while you look up to see the sunlight shine through the branches of the trees, as a gentle breeze flows against your faces. It’s beautiful at this place, but somehow, a weird feeling grows in your gut. 
After a ten minute walk along the shrines nature, you arrive at the camphor trees where the Emas are hanged upon. Mio steps forward, reading some of the wishes that are already hung up. After purchasing a little wooden plate yourself, you tipple to the desks and start writing. 
For my lovely Mio. 
Please let her have the safest travel, a lot of fun and a more safer return to her little peanut.
You draw a little raccoon in the corner, since that’s her favourite animal and turn around, ready to hang it up, only to notice, that Mio holds a little wooden plate in her own hand as well.
“No! I already got one!” you wiggle it into her direction, before you hang it up. 
She steps into the corner of your eyes, hanging her own plate right next to yours. You’re about to complain that she bought an unnecessary one, as your eyes catch what she wrote.
For my lovely y/n.
Please let her have the most fun, good food and a little adventure, until her Mio returns.
“Is this for me?” you ask with wide eyes.
“Bro, it’s your name right there!” she sneers as if you’re stupid, tapping her knuckle loudly against the plate.
Your heart warms up, before you continue in a serious voice.
“You forgot to draw a cat.” 
“I cannot draw a cat.”
“Bullshit. Everyone can draw a cat.” you wave her off and turn around, only to see-
Oh shit.
You freeze in your spot, as you see that tall man from last night standing in front of the holy praying area of the shrine. His back is turned to you, but his height, his black cloak and the pink spiky hair is proof enough.
A sinister energy reaches your feet and crawls up your legs.
“What’s up?” Mio asks, as she notices how you froze in your spot, tugging at your sleeve.
Your heart starts pounding. 
Badum. Badum. Badum.
In the corner of your eyes, you see Mio catching focus on that man herself.
“I’ve never seen a guy that tall-“
“Me neither.” you mumble, while you keep staring. In the corners of your eye, you see many people walking around the mean, peeking and staring and mumbling about his unusual appearance.
He walks up the stairs, shoving a middle aged woman out of his way. She tipples, looses balance and-
Bam!
falls down the stairs, while he’s stepping closer to the doors that lead to the praying area. The huge doors, that now don’t seem to tall in comparison anymore.
“Disrespectful asshole!” Mio exclaims in disgust, as an appalled gasp is heard from the by-standing people and the feeling in your gut grows into a huge lump. Others rush to the woman to help her back up, and Mio wants to go forward too, but you grab her sleeve, holding her back. You stay silent, as you keep watching the man intensely, seeing him lay his right hand on the wooden surface of the saisen-bako that’s placed inbetween the doors. People start to talk to him, try to get his attention, but he is ignoring them, concentrated on doing what he came to do. 
Your eyes are fixated on his hand, a tattooed black ring decorating his wrist. The people around him grow louder and louder, but the sound grows mute in your ears. Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you watch how the wooden surface starts to vibrate, the lines between his hand and the wood start to blur. A deep humming starts to vibrate in your ear, just like last night.
Mio notices your trance and calls you, but you hear without hearing. 
Whatever he’s doing, it has you in his grip.
Mio calls you again, louder and snips her fingers in front of your face to wake you from your trance but you keep being fixated on his hand until-
“Hey!” another man loudly exclaims and tugs on his cloak to get his attention. Without even looking, the pink haired man flicks his left hand and suddenly the throat of the other man bursts with blood and his head falls from his shoulders.
Fwip! 
Pap.. Pap… pap.
Down the stairs it falls and rolls. Your heart drops and everyone starts to scream, as your eyes widen in horror. Blood splatters everywhere, as the head rolls and comes to a halt next to the woman, coating the holy grounds with red essence.
“Y/N!!” Mio calls your name again, now very loud and clear, making your body finally start moving.
You meet Mio’s eyes and grab her wrist, before you run towards the entrance, already seeing security guards run into the opposite direction. Other people run in panic as well, shoving you out of their way, almost make you stumble. For some reason, shortly before you can run through the huge gate, you need to turn around.
Turn around.
The time slows down.
Exhale.
You look.
Focus.
And he turns around, too. Making your eyes meet his for the split of a second, before you turn back forward again, running through the gate.
Inhale.
Sirens are already howling in the distance, as Mio and you and many other people run through the shrine grounds in order to get back to the entrance you came from. Your heart is pounding in your throat and your throat is as dry as sand, as you finally reach the streets. A glance to Mio and a nod from her confirm that you will not separate your ways right now. She’ll come with you.
Bam!
Zschk Zing!
You lock your front door behind you, as Mio sighs loudly, slumping down on one of your kitchen chairs.
“Jesus.” you sigh under your breath, your hands still lingering on the door-lock, your eyes staring into nothing. The image of that mans head rolling down those stairs keeps replaying in your head. 
“Gonna make tea.” Mio says, before she gets up and fills the cattle.
You blink and shake your head, before you turn around and sit down on the other chair on the adjacent corner of the table. 
You have seen some bad stuff on the internet before. Multiple times unfortunately. However it’s still different to see such things in real life.
“The police will get him right?” she asks. 
“Maybe they shot him on sight.” you mumble. “Most probably.” you try to assure her and yourself.
She hums and the kettle starts to whistle.
Louder and louder.
Louder and louder.
Until Mio takes it from the stove and fills your cups with water.
You take a sip and the warmth flows through your body, making you feel better in an instant. 
“I still got no groceries.” you mumble into your cup.
“Let’s just wait a bit. It’ll be safe in a few hours.” she mumbles into hers.
A pause.
And you ponder.
“He wouldn’t have slashed that man, if he let him do his thing in peace.” you sip absentmindedly. “Whatever he was doing.” you add and she glances over to you, cocking an eyebrow.
“If he didn’t shove that woman down the stairs, he wouldn’t have been bothered.” she responds annoyed. “Nothing he was doing can justify this.”
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
“Doesn’t matter now, they probably shot him.” she sighs. 
Your eyebrows twitch at the thought. Somehow, you don’t feel like it’s true.
A few silent hours go by, sipping tea, trying to calm down. Both of you avoid to read the news, try to distract you from what just happened, talk about anything, except about what happened at the shrine today.
And somehow, it works. They probably shot him after all.
The sun sets and it grows dark outside. Mio taps on her phone.
- 10:13 p.m. - 
“I think I should go now.” she sighs. “Gotta get up early tomorrow.” 
You inhale deeply, knowing it’s the last time you’re gonna see her for at least two weeks.
“Alright.” you exhale, as you stand up and walk her to your door. “Text me when you’re at the station, k?” 
“Sure, peanut. The police is probably still roaming around. And if not they got him.” she smiles at you and leans in for a tight hug. “Gonna miss you.” she whispers in your ear and it almost makes you tear up.
What today happened was a lot for you and now you have to deal with it alone, if the distraction looses its effect. For two whole weeks.
“Gonna miss you, too!” you sniff into her ear and press her against you, before you separate.
“Stop crying, bitch.” she jokes and boops your nose. 
You stick out your tongue and with wet eyes, you unlock your front door. 
“Here you go, your Majesty. Please return safely.” you bow, trying to overact your upcoming crying-session and it makes her giggle. 
“It’ll be fine.” she waves you off and walks down the hallway. “I’m a big girl.”
“Text me!” you yell after her, before you close and lock up the door.
Zschk Zing!
Silence.
Too silent.
You grab your back and pull out the new headphones you bought. In all the hectic you forgot to properly charge them, but luckily, they always are charged halfway up when you buy them. 
You sit down on your kitchen chair and go to your phone’s settings, to connect it via bluetooth with your headphones. 
It worked.
You put them on and scroll through your music library, not sure what will give you the right mood for now. If you want more distraction or if you want to cry. Already feeling an empty feeling spreading in your heart, you scroll and scroll and your eyes keep watering.
Maybe crying it is. 
Mio didn’t text yet and you hope she’s about to arrive safely at the station. It’s just a short walk anyway. You keep scrolling. Being a person who listens to almost everything, it’s difficult to choose sometimes. Closing your eyes, you tap on shuffle, letting fate decide what song to play.
But right in the moment, when the song is about to start, a loud knocking is heard on your door.
Knock. 
Knock. 
Knock.
You quickly look to the door.
Mio? 
Maybe she forgot something.
Without turning off the music, you put your headphones on the table and tipple to the front door.
“Mio, is that you?” you call.
No answer.
You frown in suspicion, before looking through the peephole. 
And your heart drops into your socks, as you see a deformed fish-eye version of a stranger.
A tall, pink haired man.
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tired-teacher-blog · 1 year
Text
Late night surprise
Characters : Aizawa/ Fem reader
Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Somnophilia (consensual)/ Oral (fem receiving/ Pussy drunk!Aizawa/ Fingering/ Breast play/ One Shot
Notes : This is something that I've been talking about with my bestie @aizawas-non-right-foot 😍 Banner by : @/cafekitsune
Masterlist|Second Masterlist
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Part 2
It has been a while— three weeks and five days to be exact, since you were able to spend a quiet evening with your boyfriend. Your schedules have been extremely hectic lately, and his night shifts have become reoccurring for the past few days, leaving you even less time together.
You miss him a lot, and lately, even the frequent calls and voice mails have become insufficient. You want to spend some quality time with him, cuddled up in bed together while watching a movie, or having a pleasant conversation and catching up with one another over dinner, as opposed to eating alone and going straight to an empty cold bed.
When was the last time you woke up in his arms? And how long has it been since you were.. intimate with one another?
Three weeks and five days, that's how long it's been.
_ "Really! You're coming home early today?" your heart almost leapt with joy when you heard a soft 'yes honey' on the other end of the line.
Finally, you will have the whole night to yourselves.
You run around the house like a maniac, fixing dinner, setting the ambiance and taking a quick shower before slipping into something that seemed to always make him lose his mind.
Your luscious curves are gleaming in the mirror as you observe the sexy night gown barely covering your pantiless bum and falling perfectly over your soft skin, "I'm ready."
You check your phone and sigh with relief as your preparations have been completed on time, only a few more minutes until hearing the door click and seeing his beautiful frame stepping into the apartment.
The anticipated few minutes turned into an hour and then another, your delectable dinner is now nothing but a cold lumpy mush, and your cheerful smile is nowhere to be found.
You plop onto your cold empty bed and reach for your phone again, sighing miserably as your eyes scan his latest text once more :
"I'm so sorry honey but something came up, looks like I'll be home late after all."
You're too exhausted to think straight or even move a muscle, your plans have gone to waste after careful preparations, so you need to get your ass up and clean the dining table before succumbing to sleep, not to mention removing the needless night gown that's making you feel stupid at this point.
You need to get up, but your mind is foggy and your head feels heavy on your fluffy pillow, still, you have to put away the food and get changed first.
You have to..
.. have to..
Something feels warm and, wet? A strange yet familiar sensation is spreading throughout your whole body, but what exactly is it? Last thing you can remember was moping about your ruined plans while struggling to fight off sleep, so what happened after that?
_ "Fuck, I can't believe I had to miss this after being forced into a second shift."
You recognize this voice, this growl, but where is it coming from? You're asleep right? Then it must be a dream..
_ "I'm so sorry for being late princess, so let me make it up to you huh?"
There it is again, that same recognizable voice.
_ "Shouta.." this dream, this sensation, it all feels too realistic.
_ "Yes honey I'm right here."
Your eyes flutter open and your body jerks in surprise as you clearly hear it this time, it's not a dream is it?
_ "Shouta, what are you.. oh God!" you tilt your head back and arch off the bed as you feel it deeper, his warm fat tongue, licking its way into your slick walls.
You are still in a haze, your vision is blurry and your brain is foggy, but your body is reacting on its own. You reach out a shaky hand and grab onto his raven locks, pushing his face deeper against you.
This isn't an unusual occurrence, you can't remember how many times you have awoken to find his lips or fingers latched onto you, and it's a favor that you have eagerly paid back many times in return.
The pleasure your man is giving you seems more intense than usual, it has been a while after all.
_ "Fuck I missed you gorgeous.." his words are mixed with obscene slurping noises and satisfied hums that vibrate into your core, he seems out of it, needy and desperate while lapping up your cute love bud and nibbling on the surrounding swollen lips like a bear clinging to a honey tree.
Your heavy eyes travel downward to steal a glimpse of the man doing wonders for you, and you whimper as you're faced with an arousing sight that almost gets you spasming violently with intense pleasure.
It's exhilarating, your boyfriend is still in his work attire, filthy sweaty and disheveled, and it looks like burying his face between your legs was the first thing he thought of doing after walking into the house.
You can't help gawking at him, propping yourself up on quivering elbows to have a better view of your beloved, and biting down on your lip as a knot starts to form in the pit of your belly.
He is beautiful, with his flushed skin and focused eyes staring back at you, and his soft hair falling perfectly around his face and neck to tickle your sensitive skin with every little move he's making.
His calloused hands release your thighs to slide along your sides, bringing your night gown further up and revealing more of your flesh to him.
_ "You dare fall asleep while wearing this instead of waiting for me? You're a bad girl." his playful words are groaned against your weeping cunt, and your legs instinctively squeeze him tight between them.
_ "Stop talking! Please don't talk with that in your mouth!" your cute little outburst brings a throaty chuckle out of the man who insists on feigning ignorance.
_ "Why's that? Why can't I speak while pleasuring my princess?" his purrs send a shudder deep inside of you.
This bastard knows his effect on you, he loves tormenting you, seeing you helpless underneath him, and he succeeds in making his wish come true every single time.
Your arms give out and your back hits the mattress again, you can no longer see his face but the feeling of his eager mouth is driving you mad.
His hands move under your silky night gown to grope your mounds, thumbs brushing over your perky nipples while his tongue fucks you deep and slow.
You're not going to last much longer at this rate, your heart is pounding harshly in your chest, and your whimpers are getting louder and needier by the second, "keep going! Please! Just a bit more!" your shameless demands are well received, as he humms with delight and keeps on thrusting his tongue deeper within you.
His fingers carry on massaging your soft breasts, kneading your flesh and pinching your perky teats teasingly before one of his large hands runs down your body and rests on your lower belly.
You know what this means, though you're not sure if your body will be able to handle any anymore of his taunting behavior, you've just about reached your limit.
_ "Shouta, I'm so close.."
He retracts his tongue and kisses your clit before rubbing two fingers along your wetness to slowly ease them past your welcoming slit.
Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out of it, your breath gets caught in your throat and your body twists under his brute dominance as his fingers take control.
You're a wreck, shattering a little bit more each second that passes, and he loves it.
His lips kiss along your inner thighs, and his fingers curl up and stroke that one particular sweet spot he knows all too well.
_ "No wait.. wait! It's too.. too much!" you finally find your voice, crying out a warning but only a moment before giving in to a splintering orgasm, shuddering uncontrollably and coating the fingers still moving inside of you before relaxing at last.
_ "That's my girl, you've done a good job sweetheart." he cooes sweetly while trailing a few soft kisses along your sensitive cunt, "so how's my princess feeling?"
_ "Perfect.." you breathe out drowsily, a satisfied smile adorning your face.
He carefully licks you clean, attentive as to not overstimulate you while flicking his tongue up and down on your throbbing clit, "fuck.. what a treat."
You giggle happily and reach out for him to get closer, your blush deepening as you notice his reddening lips and glistening chin, proof of what he has just done for you.
_ "I'm sorry for missing our date love, but I promise to make it up to you tomorrow." he looks apologetic as he speaks, and you can't help the giggles escaping your throat, he is truly adorable.
_ "But I don't want to wait until tomorrow, so how about taking a shower together right now and see what happens?" you request suggestively, sneaking a hand between your bodies and pressing it against his raging stiffness.
_ "Oh I'd love that even more."
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black-lake · 2 years
Text
astro observations 2
more observations today for ya? this time both signs and aspects. 🦊 
Should I call it the Aquarius post? 🤔 I mentioned Aquarius too many times, sorry I relate too hard, bear with me. 
Highlights: aquarius, MC, IC, sun, virgo, capricorn, gemini, sagittarius, jupiter, mercury, moon, scorpio, aries, uranus
------
🦋 Aquarius placements especially sun, moon, mercury, mars, MC and ascendant are PROS at ignoring your texts until they want to answer. It's like they either consciously ignore your text to rebel against what others expect them to do and do exactly what they want at that time, or unconsciously rebel in the same way desiring complete "freedom". My bestie is aquarius sun and I'm aquarius MC, we answer each other's texts days or weeks later and are okay with it 💀 oh, the answer is also too irrelevant it makes you want to throw your phone at a wall yay 😻
🦋 Fire moon + fire/air mars and anger issues 🤝
🦋 Virgo moons, you had a critical mom or parental figure, you internalized her voice, you criticize without knowing. Your words can make someone self conscious even if you think it's innocent judgment 🥺 Your words can also make some's day because you are trusted! (applies to gemini moons and mercury too). Don’t take it for granted. Until you know how to use your judgment for good, with balance and kindness you become the warmest most looked up to friend.
🦋 Capricorn moons are such complex individuals, their trauma is unique to them, they can endure and have endured a LOT. They are extremely caring or deadly careless no in between. Keeping it professional is what they're good at. Each one I met is so much different than the other, they have similar but different stories, but they all have this grounded energy that can make them even seem heavy energetically. Once evolved, they can be the wisest people to talk to.
🦋 Aquarius MC individuals might have been too emotionally attached to their family at a young age, especially their mom (with leo 4th). They had so much passion and love for their mom and realized it wasn't equally reciprocated, they were manipulated (hits home). They also might have been jealous and needed the love and attention all on them, but they dgaf anymore. 😎 At a certain age, their family broke their trust and they became completely detached. They learned to be emotionally secure and set strong boundaries with people which shocked everyone. They stopped giving energy to their family or anyone else. They ran out of f*cks to give so soon.
🦋 Aquarius MC/IC they were and always will be seen as weird and different from their family and everyone else (hell I'm seen as controversial and questionable even when I sit still and do nothing). love that.
🦋 Also if you have Aquarius MC, IC or Ascendant check when saturn transits 4th or 10th or aspects the nodes/mc. This indicates the end of karmic cycles with your family related to your self concept and self expression. You will have a chance to break cycles and be more individualistic. It may be painful but hold on. 🥺
🦋 Gemini and Virgo ascendants can be introverted or extroverted, mostly introverted, unless they have planets in the 1st, much air or fire energy. They always have a way with words tho no matter what, and they always are nervous, their minds never shut down, they keep thinking and rethinking lol. These individuals break social norms, research and discuss topics much more profoundly than what has been done before. They have topics to talk about that were forgotten or not discussed enough.
🦋 Sagittarius moons and placements, feeling the need to laugh at the wrong, very wrong time. LOUD laughs . Laughs that make others stare with a look of concern. Making jokes when it's time to get serious. Repeating jokes as it gets more serious. Making more jokes when someone tells them to stop. Laughs at people not laughing at their jokes. Laughs at their own joke before they say it. plz I admire. 
🦋 Gemini, Virgo, Aquarius, Capricorn, Aries, Leo, Scorpio mercuries intrigue me the most, they got something impressive about them, the way they talk and their words are powerful, can equally be destructive and toxic. People can take them the wrong way. What they have to say should be heard period. Watch your speech if you have these signs, you don’t want to hurt people or yourself.
🦋 Now I don’t like to talk about how Scorpio and Aries mars are seen as "sexy" because it's been said trillions of times (even tho I like to read them because I'm a scorpio mars 💀). But hear me out, the most prominent thing about all scorpio mars individuals is that they like to move in complete silence, like they don't exist, like you will never catch them. Every decision they take in life is private, because that's the only way they can shock you with their big success and revenge on all people that didn't believe in them. They want to keep you guessing and never give you answers but will show actions and accomplishments only. Their biggest dream is to come out on top once everyone has forgotten about them (or not), but to see your jaw droppin is their wet dream loool.  
🦋 Mercury conjunct Uranus? and all aspects for that matter, but especially the conjunction. You cannot convince me that these individuals are not geniuses, no matter how dumb they act. Take care of your mind, it's something special gorg. Also your voice must be so unique, it stays on someone's mind and is so vivid when they think of you. 
🦋 Mercury conjunct Jupiter, the philosopher. You just like to talk about abstract and broad topics. Spiritualist at heart, rational to deny it often tho. You have sooo many interests it's insane. You are the jack of all trades. People expect you to know things? You come off as a know it all, even if you don't mean it (yea I have it I relate). You have lessons to learn and teach those around you especially about their concept of life and beliefs. Any compliment you give can mean a lot to people. Your positivity is infectious. 
🦋 Mercury aspecting Jupiter, especially conjunctions can give a lot of optimism, this applies to neptune positively aspecting chiron as well. I see it in charts of people that have heavy saturn, pluto or chiron energy, to balance the darkness, their ability to think positively is healing to them and others because likely other things are destroying them in life and they already have many wounds. Your optimism is not an illusion, it's a gift from the universe. Life gets better as you spiritually evolve. 
🦋 Moon opposite/square mercury, such a hard aspect. A constant mental and emotional conflict. You don't know whether to trust your thoughts or emotions. You don't know when you're trusting either. There is a direct and strong influence of thoughts on emotions. Now that means your thought can hurt you or elevate you so be careful. Especially at a young age your thoughts and others' thoughts have hurt you deeply, as you grow you learn how to balance it out, to not give a f*ck. The good thing about this aspect is that these people pick up on their thought patterns easily and have potential to manipulate their minds to their benefit. Mental health is important to these individuals. Don't let your mind run wild especially in a negative direction. It's also important to surround yourselves with positive people. Music might be important for you to process emotions. 
🦋 Conjunctions are far from being "neutral" aspects imo. They are powerful natural talents and gifts in perspective, confidence, expression and skills. These aspects are always positive, even to challenging planets, if they act negatively then there are likely other challenging aspects to the same planets, the native might have not learned yet how to work with this energy or hasn’t realized their potential. Conjunctions are the highest and strongest potential any two planets can reach. The planets don't become "one", they rather meet eye to eye, acknowledge their qualities fully and work out their differences beautifully which manifests in the form of talents and potential. Yes like all aspects they got their negatives too but their positives enormously surpass the negatives. Conjunctions are highly positive aspects, it's unfair to call them neutral.
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sports-on-sundays · 11 months
Note
It kills me to see all the requested: nope! In your fanfics
How about, reader struggles to sleep due to the stress of her work & travelling so he comforts her and helps her sleep? I’ll take any f1 driver or barca player.
help me sleep / Pedri González
Summary: Pedri x girlfriend!reader
Warnings: censored cussing, sobbing, work problems, stress, anxiety
Requested?: YEs! yEs!!!!! YES, MATE, IT IS REQUESTED!!!!
Author's Note: First request, baby!!! I love you so much bestie! <3 I'm so happy you saw my subtle-not-subtle begs for requests 😭!!! And I hope it's okay I chose Pedri; the other day I was having major I-Miss-Pedri syndrome that we've all been having for the past however many months (I don't even want to think about how long it has been) so I decided as a tribute to my boy, the first request on my blog should be him.
I say 'tribute' as if he's dead or something 😭
I feel like I'm acting way too excited about this request for it to be normal, but that's okay! I'm happy, and I owe it all to you! Now, let's get into this-
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock went the clock on the wall. That stupid old clock that wasn't even set to the right time. You sat on the living room couch, at 2:34 A.M., dealing with work sh*t.
You walked in this evening, feeling ready to literally collapse, and was greeted by your boyfriend as the welcoming committee. It was sweet. He had bought you your favorite treat and flowers and everything and let you snack on it. Had a little snuggle with you. And the moment you stood up, telling him you had to unpack from your long work trip, he pulled you back down on the couch. "No way," he had said. "You're tired. Your bags can wait 'til tomorrow. For now, just relax."
And he really had convinced you. He really had. Soon after that, you had gone to your bedroom and gotten snuggled in together, and within minutes, you were fast asleep.
Only to wake up three hours later. You stared at the ceiling for a solid fifteen minutes, unable to fall back asleep as the stress of work and everything you hadn't gotten done and needed to get done crushed you.
Realizing there was no chance of you falling back to sleep now, you slipped out of bed as slowly as you could, as to not wake up your boyfriend, and quietly walked (or rather, stumbled, because of the extreme lack of sleep) to the living room.
And so now you sit on the couch, barely alive, feeling like a lump on a log but on steroids, dealing with work sh*t.
Suddenly, you get a message from one of your co-workers, though. Bad news... You click on it, and in the moment, with everything you've already gone through within the last seventy-two hours, this is enough.
You swallow, your phone slipping out of your hands. I'm trying so hard. How could my job be on the line? Your head falls into your hands, and you let out a angry groan, letting out quick, little breaths.
God, I can't do this. I can't do this anymore. I need help. Please, I need help. I just can't keep doing this any longer. I can't do this anymore.
Your eyes well up, and that turns into a tear. And that tear turns into another one. And those tears turn into crying. And crying into weeping. Tired, pathetic, pitiful weeping, until you're flat-out sobbing, unable to control it. The world spins as another glowing text comes in on your phone on the rug and your laptop shows more emails and the bags in the corner of the room are still full of your things from the work trip and and and and and...
Suddenly, strong, warm arms around your trembling body. You lean into your boyfriend's body, blubbering between gasps, "Pedri you weren't supposed to wake up... I know you're going through a lot too... I don't want to stress you out... I'm sorry..."
"Shhh," he soothes, rubbing your back. "Do you really think you're on your own? My love, we help and love each other. You can be vulnerable. I know it's hard. Don't you think for a second that I don't want to help you."
"This isn't your problem..."
"Your problem is my problem, because I love you," he mutters close to your ear. He gently closes your laptop and powers off your phone. "You don't need to worry about that right now."
"Pedri-" You grip his shirt, looking at him slightly manically. "Yes I do. I could lose my job."
His jaw tightens, but he says, "What you're doing is impossible. If you lose your job because it's too hard, then maybe you shouldn't be in this job. And it's not because you're a failure. It's because you're expected to do much more than anyone should be able to handle. If you lose your job, I'll be the first to support you until you can get a new one. Okay? But we don't even need to worry about that right now, okay?"
"But-"
Suddenly he takes your wet, tear-stained cheeks in his hands, and looks at you earnestly right in the eyes. "But right now, you need to calm down. Come on; why don't we go to the bedroom, okay?"
"Uh- y- yeah," you get up, feeling terrible at how much a mess you are. Pedri walks to the bedroom with you, his arm around your shoulders the whole time. He fetches a damp rag and gently wipes your face with the cool towel. You shut your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as Pedri pulls the blanket up to your torso. You lean back, sitting upright on the blanket.
"Can I get anything for you?" he asks after he finishes, taking your hand gently.
You shake your head 'no'. "Just sit down. All I need is you."
He nods and slips onto the bed and under the blanket next to you. Straight away, you lean your head on his shoulder and clutch his hand in yours. "Y/n, you know that it'll be okay," he murmurs. Not even a question. A fact. You know that you'll be okay.
"But Pedri, what if..."
"No 'what if's right now, okay?" He pulls you closer to you, rubbing your shoulders. You sit quietly together for a while, before Pedri slowly sinks into a laying down position, pulling you down with him. You snuggle close to him, resting your head on his chest. When you yawn, he says, "You're tired. Anything I can do to help you sleep?"
You breathe gently. "Just... talk to me."
He nods and starts whispering. At first, you listen to the sweet little things he's saying as he gently strokes your hair, but soon you're too tired to comprehend them. Soon your eyes are fluttering shut, and your mind is switching from daytime thoughts to nighttime dreaming.
Within your dream, you feel a soft kiss on your forehead and Pedri's perfect sweet-as-honey voice murmur, "Buenas noches, mi amor."
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nunalastor · 3 months
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I have been struck by an idea for Angel Alastor AU
*Alastor's POV*
A couple months into his stay in Hell Alastor finds and figures out how deals work, as well as their roll they play in maintaining this realm. He is excited to try it out and finds out he is really good at it. BUT!! After awhile the people he takes under his care collapse into shows of light. He doesn't get it. What is he doing wrong! the only 2 thralls not leaving are Nifty and husker.
Let's see he takes in children and women who did what they had to do to survive. Check! Give them free housing in the forest he grew with his magic. Check!! Employ the women as either teachers/caretakers for the kids or writers for his radio shows. CHECK!!! Basically build and maintain a self sufficient community that doesn't have to worry about the stress of hell while he get to have his fun. Check fucking CHECK!!!!
No matter how many years pass in hell it keeps happening. It's confusing but that's ok, he only did it because all the most respected Overlords of hell run and maintain communities. His new bestie Rosie, Carmillia, Missi Zilla, Zestial and even that pathetic picture Box that got a lucky hit to his forehead with an angelic dagger ( thankfully Alastor bashed vox's face in before he could back up the memory) has one. Well the Princess is opening a hotel i hopes of rehabilitating sinners should be fun. He just hopes that the letters he wrote for Guy, Emily and his Mom and that they forgive him for his selfish acts.
*Heaven's/Micheal's POV*
It has been years since the one so loved by Heaven went missing because of Adam's carelessness when something miraculous starts happening. The souls of women and children damned to Hell start appearing before the high Seraphim Sera. Despite all the struggles the souls went through and endured, they had one thing in common.
Alastor
When Micheal is filled in on what's happening he doesn't rushes to the observation orb within Heavens Court house. With the help of the very souls Alastor redeemed he lays eyes upon his beloved for the first time in years. The sight is both comforting and devastating as Micheal watches Alastor rub at a nasty scar along his temple.
Of course. Everything makes sense now. His beloved wouldn't abandon everyone he loves on a whim. He didn't know it was possible for the love he has held for his deer to grow deeper because even when trapped in hell under the delusion that they're a demon Al still went out of his way to help others. After many apology's to Guy, Emily and Al's Mom for the deceit Sera decides the best course of action going forward is to call a meeting with Lucifer.....OH, Lucifer sent his daughter in his place. WAIT! She's starting up a redemption project that's perfect we can give her support through the search party now led by a talented exorcist by the name of Vagatha And his beloved's best friend Guy who's a detective turned therapist.
Charlie: "wait uncle, you know redemption is possible?"
Micheal: "Well yes, but not how because my boyfriend the saint who figured out how to do so, got trapped in Hell due to a tragic mistake some years ago suffering a horrible head wound. We were finally able to find him but we don't know how much he truly remembers."
*Lilith POV*
Lilith who has spent the last couple of years getting faded off champagne on a beach: "I feel like i'm forgetting something important" -the unopened letters Alastor asked her to deliver sitting at the bottom of her luggage- "If i can't remember, probably not a big deal."
-sleep deprived Anon-
P.S. the thought of Alastor finally finding joy in his after life only to have it be ripped out from under him because he is unintentionally being really helpful is funny and the growing unhinged perspective of Micheal as he searches for his beloved, is absolutely delightful for me
P.S.S. I had to write this down twice so it's a lot longer than it was originally so here's this wall of text-sorry not sorry
👀
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anangelinthepit · 21 days
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Bruise my Bones but Leave My Heart Alone
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Hello my angels. Here we got with part 12 sorry it took so long, been super busy. I love you all 🩵 also got my first bad omens shirt. So stoked🩵 anyways enjoy 🩵- Magenta
@reyadawn @fadingintothegrey @bloodylullaby @lolitasangel @chey-h @hurricanesfollowyou @thisbicc @tikosblogg @lilhobgobbler @supersquirrel1996 @dreamstyles @lma1986 @justanaccounts @millie-aubs
Part 12
When Heaven and Hell collide, the world will finally know what fear actually looks like.
**************************************
“Did we find her?”
“Of course boss, those idiots put her right in our hands. Who knew how stupid they could be?”
“Keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't go anywhere. If she does, call me and round up the rest of the guys.”
“You sure you don't want me to just go in there and knock her out? I don't see anyone with her Boss. It would be easy and quick.”
“No! I know those fuckers are looking for her. Once they get there, let me know and then we’ll go in. That fucking boy band cock sucker killed my son. I want to be the one to tear his fucking head off with my own hands”
“you got it, boss. I'll keep you updated”
Heh. See you soon babydoll
Y/N POV
Shawnah sounded so strange on that phone call. Almost like she wanted to tell me something but couldn't. Knowing her She probably gonna try to convince me to come home since Noah is losing his ever-loving mind. I already made my decision though and unfortunately, I made another decision. I'm not going back until I have the baby, I know sounds crazy but If I stay hidden this long then they'll give up and think I fled the state. I'm only doing this to protect my family, and I hope Noah understands this and will eventually forgive me. Hours went on waiting for Shanawh to get here, she sent me a text saying her ETA would be 10 o clock at night.
It was already 10:15 and I was starting to get nervous. Did she change her mind? Did Noah figure out where she was going? I was about ready to call her when I heard a knock on my door.
“Bestie open up it's me.”
I ran over to the door but was stunned at what I was met with. Underneath my door, the hallway light to the apartment building illuminated more than one silhouette.
“Fuck”
”Just a second” I yelled
Little did they know my ass made my way for the balcony. It wasn't a far drop and I could climb down the decorative fence they had on the side of the building.
I ran over to my balcony door and began to pull back the curtain.
“Going somewhere?”
Standing on my balcony with the door hanging wide open was Noah. With a sadistic smirk on his face and arms crossed. Almost like he knew this was my plan. Fucking asshole.
I'd be lying to you if I said I didn't scream. After that, my front door opened, and in walked Jolly, Matt, Shawnah, Nick, and Folio.
I looked at Shawnah who had a sorrowful look on her face. I knew she had to tell them against her will, If anything I'm the one who's sorry.
“What the fuck are you guys doing here?”
“You think you’re in a place to be asking us what we’re doing when you pulled a whole disappearing act on me,” Noah said glaring at me.
“Noah I ca-”
“And that's not all, not only did you run off but then I have to hear from Shawnah and Jolly that you were dropped off at a bus station in the middle of the night in the worst fucking part of town Y/N what the actual fuck is wrong with you !”
“You need to calm the fuck down.”
“WAIT ! It gets even fucking better.”
At this point Noah had me backed up against the wall, his face was close to mine he was either gonna kiss me or spit on me. Either way, my ass was not getting out of this.
“I also learned that you’re pregnant. With our baby.”
I looked over at Shawnah, what possessed her to tell him? I get the whole running away thing but why would she tell him I'm pregnant?
“Bestie I'm sorry, Jolly saw the pregnancy test. I tri-”
Jolly grabs Shawnahs arm and pulls her into the other room and all I can think about is they are really about to do “it” on my bed.
“LOOK AT ME Y/N”
“Noah you gotta calm down she's right in front of you.” Folio and Nick said trying to hold him back. I've seen Noah angry before but his was maximum rage. They couldn't hold him back, causing Noah to grab both arms and shake me
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING Y/N?”
I flinched when grabbed me, and when I looked him in the eyes, I was met with tears and anger. I wanted to say so much but all I could get out was a pitiful “I'm sorry”. Tears began to weld in my eye realizing I made the biggest mistake, and that was hurting Noah.
“Noah please you're hurting me.”
I could feel his finger slowly leaving bruises on my arms.
“Noah give her a chance to explain,” Matt said grabbing his shoulder.
Noah's grip started to slowly loosen up and went from rough to gentle. Gliding his hand through his hair and wiping his face. He pulled me towards the couch and sat both of us down.
“You told me no more fucking secrets baby.”
I just looked at him, I couldn't speak I couldn't even think. Just staring at this aggressive ass man sitting on my couch.
“Spill it right now, before I lock you up and ever let you out of my sight again.”
“What am I repuzel?”
“Y/N, please. Don't make this any worse than it already is.” Matt said pinching the bridge of his Nose.
I began explaining to Noah how killing Jason made me collateral. Stuff I figured Nick and Jolly told him that might he murdered the most needed gang members. It's almost like he didn't believe me at first. Especially when I got to the part where I felt leaving was best because I steered them away.
“Why didn't you let me take care of it”
“Because you made matters worse. I love you but do not realize they're after me. You couldn't lie to me because I already knew Noah..”
I couldn't tell if it was the pregnancy or the fact that this man wouldn’t let me go even though I'd end up getting him killed. Noah let out a big sigh and asked if we could have a moment alone together.
“Alright but if you kill her, I'm not burying any more bodies for you,” Matt said
Both Noah and I just glared at him while Nick pushed him off the couch trying to get him out of the room faster.
“JOLLY YOU BETTER BE DECENT!” Nick yelled.
I heard them open the door to the other room and screams collided
“OH MY GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER?” Matt yelled shielding his eyes
“Matt, would you fucking move already?” Folio said pushing him
��WHY IS SHE UPSIDE DOWN?” Matt yelled once again.
With the slamming of the door Noah and I couldn't help but shake our heads and laugh.
An awkward silence followed, I was getting ready to speak up but Noah beat me to it.
“Did you learn your lesson?”
“What lesson?
“I told you I would always find you. Why did you do this?”
“I told you I thought it was the right thing to do baby.”
“I can't protect you if you keep lying to
me Y/N. No more lies between us. Understand ?”
I shook my head and agreed.
“So now what?”
“Well, now you need to be punished.”
I laughed until I looked over and realized he was being serious. A feeling in my lower stomach began to ache.
Noah grabbed my neck gently and gave me a passionate kiss. In a low growl, he said something that would have made my knees give out if we were standing.
“And you're lucky, the gang is here in the bedroom.”
Noah stared into my eyes, I could tell he still had frustration that needed to be taken out. I was just as hungry as he was though. Kissed him once again and before I knew it he was on me with his hand under my dress.
“Wait till we get home.”
I started to pull down my underwear and tugged at his pants.
“Why wait ?”
Noah was about to pull out his hard member when out walked everyone from the room.
“I AM TIRED OF MY SEEING FRIENDS DICKS TODAY. YOU FUCKIMG ANIMALS!”
Matt yelling scared the shit out of both of us. Noah couldn't duck away fast enough and I couldn't pull my underwear up.
“Okay, so what's the plan?” Nick asked
“Get Y/N's stuff and let's get the hell out of here.”
“Um, Guys? We got company.” Folio said looking out the window
“OH BABY DOLL, TELL YOUR BOYS TO COME OUT AND PLAY.”
“Y/N I forgot to tell you something,” Noah said looking at me.
I run over to the balcony and see that the head of Jason’s gang and all the minions are surrounding the entrance of the building.
“Hey, rapunzel wanna let down your hair?” The guy said while cocking his gun and aiming it at me.
Folio yanked me back and after that 5 gunshots went off.
“JUST TOSS THE GIRL AND THE REST OF YOU CAN GO.”
We all looked at each other and realized we were completely fucked.
“We could call the cops,” Jolly said
“We do that and it all comes unraveled. Nick said
“We have no guns or weapons. I don't think we have a choice anymore.” Jolly said
I looked over at Noah, I could tell the wheels were turning in his head. I don't know if he was gonna get us out of this situation. He's not a miracle worker.
“Should I go with them?”
I'm not sure why I thought that was a good idea but the looks I received made me regret what I said.
“Jolly. Nick. Let's go.”
“Where are you going ?” I said
“Folio make sure she doesn't leave your sight. Matt, call this number and tell them the letters C-O-N-C-R-E-T-E. They'll know what it means.”
“Alright double 0 7. Wanna let the rest of us in on what you're doing?” Shawnah demanded
“Nope”
Noah, Nick, and Jolly left, leaving us sitting there wondering what the actual fuck just happened.
“Concrete! That makes sense now.” Folio said
“I hate it here,” Matt said
Noah’s POV
For once in my life I'm actually fucking scared shitless but that doesnt mean I don't have a plan.
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fetishfairytales2 · 7 months
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Besties 5 (Story)
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This was originally written as a continuation of a story by @wittlesissyb4by called Besties. Check out all their fantastic stories on Tumblr and SubscribeStar.
————— Besties 5: Nursery Naughtiness
God, Brandon was being such a little bitch, dragging his sissy self into his former bedroom with tears in his eyes. Honestly, this just proves how clueless men are. He knows we're going to do whatever we wanted to him and he'd still try to resist. What a dumb ass. But my irritation melted away as Heather strutted out of the closet, looking hot as hell. She was wearing nothing but a smile and some red heels!
"So, what do ya think?" Heather asked, flashing a wicked smile. Damn, she was killing it! Heather was practically glowing. Her tits were on point, and her waist? Like, whoa, so tiny and smokin'. She did a little spin to show off her tight little ass and playfully stuck her tongue out. "Mhmm, check you out!" I playfully joked.
Even Brandon couldn't resist taking a peek Heather, and that's saying something considering his itty bitty caged clitty! His face was a mix of humiliation and pain, and I couldn't hold back my laughter at his torture. Heather and I exchanged a knowing smirk, loving her complete control over him. "Oh, it looks like daddy's in for an goid night," I taunted, playfully messing up Brandon's hair. "Does someone else like what they see too, Sissy?"
Oh my god, Connor is going to be drooling when he sees you, Heather!" I playfully nudged her and let out a squeal. She was staring at her suffering sissy and I could see the pure joy in Heather's eyes as she started to mess with him again. "Don't worry, babe," she said with a smirk, strutting towards him. She took his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. "I'm sure Ms. Lyndsey will keep you entertained while I'm gone..." She taunted with a slow, seductive grin, before finally releasing him.
"Aww, is the little sissy baby blushing? How pathetic!" I couldn't help but laugh at Brandi’s embarrassment. "And don't think I'm gonna show off my goodies to just anyone," Heather added, disappearing in her closet. She sashayed out a few seconds later, wearing a tiny black trench coat that barely covered her butt. "So don’t be jealous sweetie!” She giggled, blowing Brandon a kiss. “Only Connor whenever he wants and you when I let you"
While Heather pranced off to fix her makeup, she suddenly perked up. "OMG!" she squealed. "Cruciex!" Just like that, Brandon became stiff as a board and started walking towards us. "What's that one do?" I asked, watching the little sissy make his way across the room. "Oh, it's like, totally genius. It puts him into corner time! He has to stand in the nearest corner with his nose against the wall and keep his mouth shut, no matter what's happening.” All I could do was just stare in amazement at him, all tucked away in the corner like a good little sissy. “This is SO awesome!”
Sorry, I don't have time to give you all our little loser's sissy trigger words and show you around the house," Heather sighed with a disappointed look at her phone's clock. "But don't worry, Brandi will be excited to show you her playroom! If she isn't, we can make her excited about it'" she chuckled, "Oh, and I'll text you the whole list of words to use. And let me tell you, there are so many toys in his nursery. Daddy Connor helped build both the nursery and the playroom, by the way, for our lucky sissy!"
I couldn't help but laugh, while Heather slapped her forehead in that overdramatic way she does. "Duh!" she exclaimed. She started to unclasp the key to Brandi's chastity cage from her neck and handed it to me. "Here, you take this. I have more than enough dick to handle tonight!" Heather couldn't contain her laughter as she adjusted the key, making sure it was nestled between my boobs. "I love wearing it like this, it's a constant reminder to her of what she can see but not touch!"
"Come on," Heather gestured towards the door. "She won't get into any trouble, Brandi's practically a doll at this point!" We walked down the hallway to what I remembered as the guest bedroom door, but now it was painted a soft pink with white accents. I had to smile when I saw the foam letters on the door that spelled out "Sissy's Nursery." Heather just shrugged. "The only people who come over are either people I want to hook up with, people who are here to help me humiliate Princess Pampers, or both!" Always one for dramatic flair, Heather paused for suspense. "Ready?", she swung open the door. "Ta-da!"
My jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh, girl! This is insane!" The nursery walls were painted a soft pink with white accents, and a plush white rug covered the floor. In the corner sat a big toy chest, painted to match the rest of the room, with "Sissy's Toy Box" written on the front. Heather grinned and patted it. "Connor custom-made this for our little sissy 'daughter'," she said, winking at me. "It only took a blowjob from Brandi!" The toy box was packed with all sorts of sissy playthings, including butt plugs, vibrators, rope, and handcuffs! "Oh my gosh, Brandi is so lucky! I didn't get my first vibrator until I was 16! He must have, like, five different dildos!" I cackled, nodding towards the toy chest.
Heather shrugged with a smile, "She have a total of 10, and none of them are under 6 inches for my little slut." As she searched through the toy box, I couldn't help but stare at her backside peeking out from under her coat. Conner was definitely a lucky man. "She's even given each of them a name," she called out, still rummaging. "There's Pinkie, Mr. Biggs, and Mr. Peter, who you've already met..." Then, she popped back up with three massive dildos in her hands. Two were different skin tones and easily over 9 inches in size. "And these two," she stifled a giggle, "are Mr. John and Mr. Jason!"
With a flourish, she presented the third - a black dildo covered with plastic studs. "This is Mr. Charles," she announced, unable to contain her laughter. It was clear that she had just a little too much wine. I caught on quickly and joined in her laughter. "Wait a minute... aren't John and Jason your exes?" Heather confirmed my suspicions with a nod, barely able to keep it together now. "Yes, girl! Every time I get my bitch boy a new toy," she gestured towards the box of sex toys, "I make him name it after one of my past lovers! He has to look at their dick pics, rate their cocks, and tell me which of my ex-boyfriends he would want to fuck him! Then he had to moan their name every time he fucks himself with ‘their cock’!"
This was seriously the best day of my life. I couldn't stop laughing. Finally, this douche of a human was getting what was coming to him and my bestie had embraced her inner mean girl to dish out some much-needed punishment. "But who's Charles?" I inquired, nodding towards the black toy. "Ah, yes!" Heather giggled. "He's Brandi's hot boss. I've been threatening her that I'll sleep with him…again."
Heather flipped a switch on the dildo's base, causing it to vibrate and rotate. "See, that's why I chose this one. Studded and vibrating - messes with the sissy’s head and poor butthole!" I laughed as I watched the toy shake in Heather's hand. "I even make her practice deepthroating it while she moans Charles' name. Just for added fun, sometimes I'll send her off to work with it up her butt," she turned off the toy and proudly held it out for me to examine. "It's hilarious to think that the man whose name she was just moaning is bossing her around all day at the office!"
Heather put away the toys and strolled over to the center of the room where a massive crib sat. Brandon's crib was all pink and white, matching the rest of the room. But it was made out of sturdy wood and had a heavy metal gate on top that looked like it could be locked! "Connor made this one too," Heather said, pointing to the crib. "It's gotta lock to make sure we're not interrupted by a whiny sissy during our playtime!" She winked at me and demonstrated how to latch the metal lid over the top. "Connor insisted on it after Brandi barged into our room one night during 'adult time'. Let's just say he got a good spanking from an annoyed daddy and couldn't sit for a week. After that, Connor built this to keep her temper tantrums under control."
Wow, there was even a pink padlock to sissy in her crib! "Wow, boo, this is so wicked!" I lifted the hinged lid and took a peek. "Holy crap!" Inside were two pink and white pillows in the shape of cocks, stitched with the words 'Sissy Cuck' in sparkly gold! "Gift from my sister to constantly remind Brandi of her place" Heather explained. Next to them was a matching blanket, also embroidered; 'Sissy Cum Slut' in glittery letters. "Also a gift from my sis when I told her about Brandi's new lifestyle," Heather laughed as I picked it up. "Aaanddd...", Heather said with a grin, "just to mess with her a little more, Conner made the bed a tad too small. Brandi can never fully relax in her cute little bed."
I couldn't help but notice how tight and uncomfortable it was in there, and it would only get worse when it's completely shut. "Poor Princess must suffer so much when I lock her up in here with his dirty diapers, and Connor and I get too caught up to let him out. And it's usually for hours at a time! Oops, our bad!" 
I was totally obsessed with the crib and didn't even notice when I accidentally knocked the baby monitor off the nightstand. "Whoops, my bad..." I said, glancing down at the monitor. "Wait, isn't this supposed to be on the other end?" I asked, showing it to Heather. "Oh, you wait, girl," she laughed, taking the monitor from me to check to turn it on before handing it back. "Just give me a minute..."
Heather skipped out of the room and I could hear her voice coming through the baby monitor. "Anti-Cruciex... Princess, you gonna tell Mommy why there's a baby monitor in your room. It's not there for Mommy to hear from her sissy, right?" A long pause followed, probably while Brandon's face turned bright red with embarrassment. "N...no..." he stammered. "Then why's it there, silly Brandi? What exactly is Mommy monitoring?" Heather asked, pretending to be clueless. "M...mommy and daddy..." Brandon whined. "Mommy and Daddy, what, Princess?" Heather pressed, knowing the answer already. "What have you been hearing from your room about what Mommy and Daddy are doing? Use your big girl words," she commanded with a smile in her voice. 
Brandon barely managed to mumble the word "f...fucking." before Heather cut him off. "Good girl, Cruciex," she ordered. "Back in the corner, Princess Piss Panties. Chop chop." Oh this was fucking perfect. I couldn't think of anyone more deserving of this humiliation than Brandon. Moments later, Heather returned to the room, winking at me. "Do you get it now?" she asked, giggling. "You make him listen to you having sex?" I sputtered, still shocked. "That's brutal, girl!"
Heather and I kept exploring the nursery. I couldn't help but notice the huge changing table with straps on all four corners. "Brandi can be a bit squirmish when it's time for a diaper change," Heather mentioned, casually gliding her fingers along the pink leather straps. "And when Connor's feeling extra playful, he likes to turn the changing table towards the crib, strap Brandi down, and make him watch us hook up over the side of the crib!" There was a second diaper pail conveniently attached to the changing table, labeled "extra soiled diapers." Gross.
Heather seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and let out a wicked laugh, saying, "That'e a special kind of punishment for when Brandi is a naughty sissy!" My eyes widened as she explained - she really was all into this. "You know, there are other places besides sissy behinds that a dirty diaper can be taped onto, y'know? Sometimes Brandi needs to 'face' her new life in diapers!" Heather chuckled. “Do you just…” I started to ask, he really did piss her off big time, huh?
“No,” Heather shook her head. “It definitely gets better…or worse I guess if you ask Brandi. Sometimes, when she's been really naughty, I like to take things up a notch. Instead of just making her wear the dirty diaper, I like to feed her the mess." Heather smiled, clearly enjoying explaining herself, proud of how far she’s pushed her loser ex. "Sometimes in life, I guess Brandi just has to eat shit and like it, y’know?” I was doubled over laughing now. I wasn’t sure I would make it through tonight. This was incredible!
As we walked through the tour, something caught my eye that I hadn't noticed before. Oh boy, was I taken aback! I expected all the art to be cutesy, babyish, and sweet. But what I saw in the pictures was anything but. My jaw dropped as I realized that each one was a different kind of kinky. In the biggest frame, poor Brandon was spending what looked like some "quality time with Daddy," if you know what I mean. Heather stood in the background, of the photo, smiling evily as she kept Brandon in place, preventing him from moving. Brandon was completely naked, his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth. Behind him was Connor, holding onto his hips. Brandon's body was tense, and his face showed a mix of terror and humiliation. I could only imagine what Connor was doing to him. "Oh, that one is the night Brandi's sissy cherry got popped," Heather shared following my gaze to the picture.
"I have a whole baby album of Brandi bursting with pictures," Heather continued explaining. "Especially ones featuring her and Daddy, but this one is definitely my top pick! Over there," she gestured to a larger photo above the crib, perfectly placed for everyone in the room to see. In the photo, Heather was on top of Connor, riding him cowgirl-style. Her boobs were out for Brandon to stare at helplessly from his crib. Her body was glistening with sweat and her face was full of pleasure. She had a very obvious smile as she stared into the camera. "That was the first time I fucked Connor," Heather recalled with a gleam in her eye. "The night that little Brandi lost her sweet and submissive girlfriend forever. I want that image to be the first thing she lays eyes on in the morning and the last thing she sees before bedtime!" I couldn't help but notice other photos scattered around the room as I looked around too.
Above the changing table, hung a very candid photograph in a pale pink frame, decorated with images of teddy bears and baby blocks. The glittery letters at the top spelled out "Daddy's Girl." This picture was definitely my favorite so far. In it, Connor had Brandon pinned down over his knee, delivering a stern spanking as Brandon's pink princess pull-ups bunched around his ankles. His bottom was covered in angry red handprints, and drool dripped down his chin. If Brandon's face wasn't buried balls-deep on Connor's dick, I'm sure we would see the face of a very sorry sissy baby. 
Heather exclaimed, pointing at the photo. "That's Connor's favorite method of spanking Brandi! He'll keep going until she can make him cum down her throat! It's hilarious when Connor makes her count each spank while his dick is buried deep in poor Brandi's mouth." She even mimicked the gagged blowjob, making sounds like "Unnn... Toww... Phreeeww..." She giggled, as if she had a mouthful herself! 
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thebibliosphere · 2 years
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hey idk if you would be able to answer this but thought I would put it out there. so I have eds and THOUGHT i was having allergic reactions but a skin test at an allergist said i have literally 0 true allergies. is histamine intolerance similar to moderate allergic reactions? Ive been through most of your health tags and done research but cant really find any forward answers. its all MAY or MAY NOT
Unfortunately, you’re not finding any straightforward answers because allergies and non-IgE-mediated allergic reactions are poorly understood, even by some allergists. (usually the gaslighty kind 🙃)
It is entirely possible to test negative for allergic reactions for things you are absolutely having allergic reactions to.
This is because allergy tests focus ONLY on “true” IgE allergies and do not take into account that there are other underlying mechanisms that can cause mast cells to degranulate, which is what happens when you have an allergic reaction.
In an IgE reaction, the cells become unstable, releasing various hormones/chemical responses, which is what we know as annoying allergic reactions in minor cases, and anaphylaxis is severe responses.
In a functional immune system, these chemicals should really only be released in response to a true IgE allergy.
When your immune system is a little over-reactive, they can release in response to stress (this is what causes stress hives, and we now think some cases of IBS) and sometimes things like viral illnesses. This is why so many people have developed MCAS or MCAS-like symptoms after having covid. (mask up, besties)
Sometimes, however, the “off” switch in the immune system gets broken, and the mast cells become increasingly over-reactive, and that's when you can start developing new or seemingly random allergies that are inconsistent and don't show up on IgE allergen test panels. It’s why you’ll sometimes see the term “idiopathic anaphylaxis” in people who have anaphylaxis that can’t be explained. Well, the explanation is wonky mast cells. Why are they wonky? We’re not really sure.
Perhaps if the medical world hadn’t ignored its existence for ten+ years and focused so much on gaslighting patients until a mass pandemic hit, we would.
This type of mast cell degranulation, triggered by a non-IgE-mediated reaction, is common in histamine intolerance and mast cell activation syndrome, which can also be comorbid with EDS.
So are you reacting to things not showing up on an allergy test? Quite possibly, and your EDS makes it more likely.
Unfortunately, the testing for both is a crapshoot and are actually intended for mastocytosis. This is not to say you shouldn’t ask for a tryptase test (the 24-hour urine test is far more accurate than the blood test); I just mention it because it is entirely possible to have HIT/MCAS and still test negative for elevated levels of tryptase.
Until better testing methods are available, HIT and MCAS-aware doctors will now often diagnose based on patient history and response to mast cell stabilizers.
Anyway, sorry for the wall of salty text, I hope some of it is helpful to you! Best of luck with figuring everything out!
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