#trying to finish a thesis chapter this week

[howlsmovinglibrary]

.

[korovamlecznybar]

fingers crossed i can write the entire chapter tommorow

[frflyavenue]

Exam Stress - Matz ver.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Matz x Stressed!Uni student!Reader

Warnings: MDNI (18+) — Stressed reader, sleep deprived reader, university exam season, crying, eating, fluff and smut, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving, m receiving, f giving), vaginal sex, spit-roast, threesome smut, slight power dynamic, soft dom!Hongjoong, switch!Seonghwa, lots of praise

Author’s Note: Giving you guys this update early as compensation for not posting anything on Tuesday—First time writing smut, so let me know what you guys think! UYT chapter 3 still on track to be updated tomorrow <3

WC: 5.1k

School sucks. You’re a great student, one of the best performing in your major, and, according to your boyfriends, the hardest working person they’ve ever seen. You’re positive they’re just gassing you up because they love you, but you’re happy that your work is at least recognized. But it’s getting towards the end of the semester, meaning the whole University is filled with students working overtime. Exams are just around the corner, major essays and projects are being finalized and the party hubs of the city have died down as students rush to get their grades up enough to pass. You’re doing well in your classes, of course, but the end of the semester is always a rough time.

You’ve been working non-stop for the last few weeks, studying for your exams and trying desperately to finish your thesis paper for one of your classes. You lost count of how many hours you’ve worked in the library over the last few days, staying until they close around midnight and going home just to keep working. And while you’ve been able to handle the stress and exhaustion, today it all seemed to come to a head.

You haven’t slept more than a total of 10 hours the last four days, and you haven’t eaten nearly enough to sustain yourself. But honestly, the hormones from the stress were enough to suppress your hunger, so you didn’t pay it much attention. You’re exhausted, honestly, yearning to lay down in bed or even just curl up and sleep on the floor of the library, desperate for rest. But you don’t have time. You huff, slamming your laptop shut, earning a few glances from the other students working the library. You don’t dare look at them, stuffing your laptop in your bag with a sigh. You snatch it up and turn to leave, completely silent as you drive yourself to your apartment.

You fumble with your keys lazily as you try to open the door, finally sighing as it squeaks open. You slip into the apartment, taking off your shoes at the door and heading to the bedroom you share with your two boyfriends. Seonghwa, hearing you, turns around with a warm smile to greet you.

”Hey darling, welcome home. We missed you.”

You look up at him, but the second you see his warm expression, you feel your throat tighten, so you quickly look away. “Ah, yeah, I missed you guys too.” You clear your throat. “I have to work on my paper, so I’m gonna go work for a bit.” You don’t wait for him to respond to walk away to the solace of your bedroom.

Seonghwa walks with his mouth slightly agape as you turn your back to him, not able to say anything. Almost immediately after he gathers his thoughts, he rushes over to the living room, where Hongjoong is splayed out on the couch working on a song. He gently tap his shoulder, and Hongjoong removes one side of the headphones to hear.

”Joongie… I think something’s wrong with our Y/N.” He says worriedly, and Hongjoong snaps his eyes up from the screen to look at him.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Seonghwa runs his hand through his hair, clearly worried. “She came in so quiet, and her face seemed so tired… she hardly acknowledged me when she walked in.”

Hongjoong’s expression grows thoughtful, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. Your recent stress hasn’t gone unnoticed by your two boyfriends for the last few weeks. They’ve watched your eyes grow more and more tired every passing day, and while they’ve tried their best to bring you little snacks or cheer you up with little kisses to your temple when you’ve been working for a while, they’ve mostly let you to your work, not wanting to disturb you. But for Seonghwa to be this concerned now… Hongjoong trusts his boyfriend in thinking that something’s wrong. “Okay… why don’t you go talk to her, hm? I don’t want to overwhelm her with both of us, but I want to check on her.”

Seonghwa hesitantly nods, and Hongjoong presses a comforting kiss to his forehead before letting him go visit you.

You hardly register the knock at the door until it creaks open, and you freeze up, looking over at him with wide, guilty eyes. There are tears streaming down your face, your nose running and your sleeves wet from wiping your eyes. Seeing him, with his beautiful, elegant face twisted in concern taking in the sight of you, you only feel worse. You turn away, desperately attempting to dry your tears as he approaches. You hiccup helplessly as he turns the office chair around so you’re facing him, optnig to hide your face in your hands.

Seonghwa steps closer so he’s standing between your legs, gently pulling you into him. You let your face, still covered by your hands, lean into his stomach, feeling one hand resting protectively on your back while the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb rubbing comforting cicely into your hair. Almost immediately, you let go to wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face deeper into his tummy and sobbing against his hoodie.

Seonghwa feels himself tear up at the sound, his voice softly shushing you while he cradles your head against his body. He doesn’t move, holding you just like that, not planning to ever let you go.

Hongjoong, hearing the gut-wrenching sound from the other room, sneaks into the room, standing behind Seonghwa and rubbing his back. The taller man is blinking back tears, his hands holding you close to him as you let out pitiful sobs of frustration and exhaustion, sounds he’s never heard from you in the two years you all had been dating. Hongjoong, too, feels his throat tighten, distracting himself by silently comforting Seonghwa in the meantime. The three of you remain like until the sound of sobs dies down to sniffles, and Hongjoong moves to kneel next to your chair. He places a hand on your thigh, gently rubbing there.

”Hey, beautiful.” He whispers softly, gently easing your hands down for you to look at him. You do, your swollen eyes meeting his. “Hey… there she is…” His voice is soft and quiet, almost as if he’s talking to a kitten. You're grateful for it, the sound not overwhelming your mind.

You snuffle, leaning into his hand when he moves to cup your cheek. “I-I’m sorry…” you squeak out, and he immediately shakes his head, shushing you.

“No, no ‘sorry’. I can speak for both of us when I say that Seonghwa and I want you to be happy. But part of that means taking care of you when you’re sad, hm?” He just watches you for a moment, gently holding your face in his hands as he kneels in front of you. “…What’s the matter babydoll?”

You close your eyes and try to clear your blurry eyes, opening them again to look down at his loving face. “I… I just got frustrated.” You explain, your voice wobbling pitifully. “I’m so tired, and I have so much to do. But I feel stuck on this stupid paper, and I have to finish it, and…” You trail off, your throat burning as tears slip silently down your delicate cheeks and onto Hongjoong’s delicate hands.

Hongjoong nods, gently wiping the little drops of water away with his thumb, not breaking his gaze. “It’s okay, we’ve got you now. We’re going to go take a break, baby.”

You open your mouth to refuse, but Seonghwa shushes you before you can say anything. “No, no, he’s right Y/N. You need to eat and take a break, or you wont be able to get anything done anyways.” He pauses. “My mom always used to tell me that productivity is subjective. Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is take a break, eat some good food, and get some sleep. Right now, that’s exactly what would be most productive to you, understand?” His voice is gentle but firm, and his tone gives you no choice but to tentatively agree.

Hongjoong smiles proudly up at Seonghwa, dropping his hands from your face and standing up, offering his hand to you. You take it, letting him pull you up. You sigh longingly as Hongjoong closes your laptop shut, and Seonghwa places a guiding hand on your back as he walks you three to the living room.

While it pains you to step away from your work, you immediately feel relieved as Seonghwa pulls you with him onto the couch, instinctively finding your position on his chest as he lay down with his head resting on the cushy armrest. His hand tangles in your hair, the other rubbing your back up and down in slow, repetitive motions. The steady thumping of heart under your cheek is enough to make you come undone, and your shoulders relax.

Smiling fondly at the sight, Hongjoong sits next to your tangled bodies, opening his phone. “We’re ordering in tonight. What are you feeling, pretty girl?”

The corners of your lips twitch up, though you don’t bother to open your blissfully closed eyes. “Pasta?” You respond, the thought of noodles making your mouth water.

Hongjoong laughs and pats your butt affectionately, ordering you guys a few of your favorite pasta dishes to share.

In the meantime, Seonghwa struggles with the remote, trying to put on a cute animated movie to cheer you up. Finally figuring out what buttons to press, he finds a selection of studio ghibli movies and let you take your pick. Hongjoong calls in to order the food while the two of your start the movie, and as soon as he’s done, he walks back over to the couch. You turn around so you’re laying on your back against Seonghwa’s chest, his arms wrapping around your waist while you reach your arms out to Hongjoong. He smiles brightly before climbing into your arms, laying with his head resting on the soft pillows on your chest and his arms joining Seonghwa’s around your waist. Content to be between both of them, you sigh.

It’s the best you’ve felt in weeks. Seonghwa’s chest rising and falling steadily against your back, Hongjoong snuggled up close to you, letting you tangle your fingers in his hair, the soft strings of the ghibli movie—it was perfect. When you drift off, hands resting limp and calm against Hongjoong’s back and hair and head resting comfortably back against Seonghwa’s happily beating heart… your boys can’t help but feel the same.

NSFW content following the cut ———

You awake groggily at the sudden loss of the comfortable weight on your chest, grumbling at the cold air hitting your front. You open your eyes, Seonghwa giggling lovingly at your state from behind you and Hongjoong nowhere to be seen. You pout, looking around.

”He’s getting our food.” Seonghwa explains softly, his voice hardly above a whisper. You nod, not bothering to move as you hear Hongjoong open the front door and thank the delivery person. He returns with a slight grin, holding up the bag of food victoriously.

You smile, sitting up and moving to get up off the couch. Seonghwa clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction, pulling you back to stay. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You giggle, wriggling weakly in his grasp. “To the table? To go eat dinner?” You respond, your voice already containing more of it’s usual happiness.

Hongjoong laughs and shakes his head, his eyes making pretty crescents. “No, silly, we’re gonna eat in the living room today. It’s treat.”

You gasp, turning to look at Seonghwa. Usually, he’s the one scolding you and Hongjoong about your cleaning and organizational habits, always keeping you both in check. So for him to be letting you eat in the living room…

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but his grin never leaves his face as he gently lest go and helps Hongjoong unpack the food onto the coffee table. You gasp excitedly, sitting crisscrossed on the floor in front of the couch. Seonghwa ruffles your hair before going to making the three of you bowls of pasta.

The food is delicious, of course. You hum with satisfaction, not remembering the last time you ate a proper meal. Sure, pasta isn’t the healthiest meal, but it sure does hit the spot after not eating anything but protein snacks and the random fruits your concerned boyfriends brought you every once and a while. They seem to notice, not taking their eyes off you as you go silent to eat, eagerly slurping up pasta. Proud to see you feeling better, they also find that the food is especially good—maybe just because you look so happy eating it.

You listen intently as Hongjoong talks about the songs he’s working on, never having felt so happy just to hear him ramble as you are now. Seonghwa is silent, too focused on his food, but he occasionally bumps your shoulders with his legs, still sitting on the couch as you sit on the floor between his legs. It’s been so long since you’ve all gotten to just sit and eat together, between the weird schedule of your classes and studying for finals, Hongjoong’s production, and both of the boys' dance practices. Looking at Hongjoong’s happy face and gently rubbing Seonghwas calf as it cages protectively around your form, you feel yourself tearing up.

”I missed you guys.” You whisper in a beat of silence, taking another bite of pasta to counteract the sentimental tears forming. Hongjoong looks up at you, giving you a delicate smile. Seonghwa sets his bowl down, gently massaging your shoulders as he, also, tries not to cry, not wanting to make you upset.

”We missed you too, babydoll.” Hongjoong replies, and Seonghwa squeezes your shoulder as well in emphasis. He looks thoughtful for a moment, before clearing his throat and setting his bowl down. “Y/N?”

You look up, swallowing your big bite of pasta before responding. “Hm?”

Hongjoong laughs softly, before shaking his head and scooting closer to you, gently taking your hand and holding it in his lap. “Hwa and I love you so much. We never ever want to see you so stressed, yeah? We understand that you have a lot to do—we’re in a similar position a lot of the time. But… just like how you make sure to take care of us when we’re feeling overwhelmed, we want to take care of you too.”

You blink, taken off guard by his sudden seriousness. Senoghwa gently reaches around to tuck your hair back behind your ear. “He’s right. It’s okay to get frustrated, stressed, tired… even just sad. But it’s not okay to completely isolate yourself from everyone around you and push yourself past what your body and mind can handle.” He adds, gently combing through your hair with his fingers. He’s right, you realize. Unknowingly, you had been avoiding your friends and even your two beloved boyfriends, hiding in the library to avoid coming home and staying cooped up in your bedroom at every opportunity under the pretense of discipline. Seonghwa’s words from earlier echo in your mind. Productivity is subjective… Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is take a break…

You nod slowly, setting your own bowl down. “Yeah… you guys are right,” you admit with a slight look of guilt. “I’ve probably been stressing myself out more than necessary because I’ve been getting so frustrated.” You explain, earning a nod from Hongjoong. You continue. “And… I promise from now on, I’ll rely a little more on you guys. I’m sorry for worrying you.” You meet Hongjoong’s eyes and gently squeeze Seonghwa’s calf, and they coo.

”Such a sweet thing…” Seonghwa praises, squishing your cheek even from his odd position behind you. You blush, suddenly shy, and Hongjoong laughs, lightly hitting Seonghwa’s thigh. The three of you go quiet for a minute, the air lighter.

Interrupting the silence, Hongjoong clears his throat, looking up at you. “Y/N?”

You nod, giggling at his tone. “What? You’ve said my name like that twice already, it’s so cute~”

Hongjoong scoffs and nearly argues, but his blush creeps up his face before he can rebut. He shakes his head. “I’m being serious here!”

You and Seonghwa laugh, but you quickly shake your head and squeeze his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead, honey.”

He blushes at the nickname, his personal favorite from you, and clears his throat again. “Well, Hwa and I were talking while you napped, and we wanted to ask if you’d like to let us take care of your stress for you tonight? You know, help you relax a bit..?”

You smile, shaking your head innocently. “No, I’m sorry. There’s not really much you guys can do, my paper is built off of research I’ve been doing all semester. I appreciate the offer, of course, but I should really just write it on my own.”

Hongjoong blinks. He’s known you for a long time, but he will never not be astounded by how your sweet, dense brain works. He laughs in shock. “Hah… geez, Y/N… for somebody so smart, you sure are slow.” He says, and Seonghwa coughs back a laugh before pretending to scold him. You tilt your head.

”Uh… sorry?”

Hongjoong shakes your head, and Seonghwa moves to sit on the floor with you guys, feeling awkward not being able to see your face.

“No, not like that my dear.” He explains. He gently takes your hand and presses it to his lips. “We want to take you to bed, our love. It’s been a while since we could take care of you, hm?”

Your face heats up immediately. Seonghwa has always been the best of you three at initiating this kind of intimate affection, so it shouldn’t come at any surprise. But even after sleeping with your boyfriends hundreds of times… they only get sexier You subconsciously press your thighs together.

Seonghwa just chuckles at your cute reaction, standing up and grabbing the trash from your dinner. “Think it over while I clean dinner up, hm?”

You watch with your mouth slightly agape as he takes the trash to the bin in the kitchen, stunned silent. You turn to look at Hongjoong, who tucks your hair back affectionately.

”Kiss me?” You whisper suddenly, looking up at him shyly through your eyelashes.

Hongjoong smiles softly at your request, cupping your jaw and tilting your head up so he can access your lips. He kisses you softly, his plush lips molding naturally against yours. He turns his head to the side after just a moment, gently licking at your bottom lip, and you part your lips to grant him access. He eagerly intrudes your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours. His hand slowly comes up to rest on your waist, his thumb slipping under the hem of your shirt and rubbing easy circles over the smooth, delicate skin there. You hum into his mouth and rest your hands on his shoulders for support, desperate to taste more. It’s been a long time, you realize, since you’ve done anything like this with your boyfriends. You’ve missed it.

Seonghwa returns, raising an eyebrow at the sight and sitting on the side of the couch, opting to just watch for a little while. He knows he’ll get his turn.

Sure enough, Hongjoong pulls away just for a moment at seeing Seonghwa sit down, leaving you whining. He clicks his tongue.

”Tsk tsk… patience babydoll. Lie down on the couch for me, hm?”

You nod and quickly position yourself comfortably on the couch, happy when Hongjoong climbs over top of you and continues kissing you. To your dismay, he refuses giving you entrance back into his mouth, instead moving to press slow, open mouthed kisses down your jaw. You breathe heavier at the sensation, letting out shameless little gasps and whimpers when he nips sensitive parts of your neck. Almost too swift to notice, Hongjoong slides his hands up under your shirt, pulling it up over your head in one smooth motion before crawling downward to kiss your collarbone, lingering around the straps of your bra. Just before you feel yourself growing impatient, he unclips the fabric barrier as if reading your thoughts, gently sliding it down your shoulders to reveal your soft breasts.

He exhales in wonder at the beautiful sight, reaching one hand up to gently palm at the flesh there. “God, baby… how could I have ever forgotten how much I missed these pretty things, hm?”

You blush shyly at his praises, his tone of voice one that always gets you in a space ready and wanting to please. You arch your back impatiently, the cold air leaving you desperate for their touch. Hongjoong smiles, letting you get away with it for now and leaning down to gently take the soft flesh of your breast into his mouth.

You gasp slightly as his tongue caresses the bud of your breast, comforted with the feeling of his mouth tenderly kissing the plush skin there. You pet his hair in return, and Seonghwa reaches a hand up to rub Hongjoongs back encouragingly, fond of watching his lovers feeling good.

After a few minutes of getting you slowly more and more needy from Hongjoongs touches, Seonghwa finally moves to tug at the waist of your pants, easing them down your thighs and folding them neatly on the other side of the couch. He repositions himself to be propped on his elbows between your thighs, and you shiver when you recognize the position. His breath brushes against the heat between your thighs as he leans forward, turning his head to suck at the skin of you plush thighs. He gently kneads the soft flesh under his hands, slowly easing your thighs further apart as he inches up closer to where you need him. You roll your hips forward, desperate.

Seonghwa smiles, finally leaning forward and licking a fat stripe from your leaking entrance up to your clit, stopping there to suck on the bundle of nerves there. You gasp at the sudden stimulation, arching your back into his tongue and earning a delicious hum from him. “God, you taste so good…” Seonghwa moans into your dripping folds. He rolls his tongue expertly over the now erect bud while Hongjoong switches to sucking small marks into your collarbone, the combination sending you reeling.

When Seonghwa suddenly slides two fingers inside of you, you finally let out a full moan, earning a smile from both men. Hwa’s fingertips brush against the perfect spot inside, and combined with his tongue messily lapping up your juices and Hongjoongs attention back on your breasts, you nearly cum on the spot.

Hongjoong places a hand on Seonghwa’s head, signaling for him to stop.

You pant as you come down from the edge. “I want more,” you manage to get out in between breaths, looking up at Hongjoong.

He chuckles. “Such a needy little thing, hm?” You pout, and he giggles, finding you cute. “Bend over the side of the couch.” Seonghwa glances over at him with surprise at his suddenly domineering tone. Hongjoong just shrugs. “If our baby wants it so bad, then let’s give it to her. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how naughty our girl is, hm?”

Seonghwa glances over at you with concern, wanting to make sure it’s really what you want. He doesn’t have to worry for long, though, since you’re already scrambling to bend over with your elbows propped up on the armrest of the couch. He lets out a surprised laugh. “God, Joong. Maybe I did forget.”

Hongjoong smirks, his adoring eyes raking over your submissive position. “Seonghwa, tell me baby, do you want her pussy or her mouth? You get first pick today.”

The pretty man needs no time to decide. “Can I please get her pussy today, Joongie?”

Hongjoong nods and presses a sweet kiss to Seonghwa’s cheek. “Of course you can, love. Thank you for asking so nicely.”

While you can’t see them talking behind you in your current position, the way they talk to each other alone makes you blush. The three of you all love each other so much, there’s no doubt about it. And even when Hongjoong takes over a more dominant role, he’s never really mean, making sure his partners know that his priority is always taking care of them. You smile softly, in your thoughts, when you feel Seonghwa climb on the couch behind you.

You grip the arm of the couch in anticipation. Seonghwa presses the head of his dick against your folds, rubbing it along your clit and spreading your love juices around. You drop your head at the feeling, biting back a moan. When he finally slides in, though, you can’t help but groan out his name, pushing your hips back against him until he’s fully seated inside of you.

Hongjoong hums in satisfaction as he watches, reaching to rub comforting circles on the smooth skin of your back. “Deep breaths, baby. Does it feel good?”

You nod immediately, a little too eager. “Y-yes…” You hiss.

Hongjoong chuckles. “Good girl. Seonghwa, baby, don’t move until I tell you to.” Seonghwa groans but agrees nonetheless. Hongjoong walks around to the side of the couch where you’re facing, cupping your jaw. “Stick out your pretty tongue for me.”

You obey, parting your lips quickly and letting your tongue drop out for him, too far gone to be embarrassed about how much saliva you’re producing. He bites his lip, stroking his fully erect length in front of your face, giving you the most perfect view. When he finally rubs the bulbous head of his pretty cock against your tongue, you hum. He doesn’t do much more for a while, leaving both you and Seonghwa, who is essentially just being cockwarmed, impatient. But just before you lose your composure and ask hm outright to just fuck your throat, he finally slides his length into your mouth.

You eagerly wrap your lips around him, tightening them expertly and sliding your tongue over the underside of his pretty length, making him roll his eyes back.

“Hon- ah god… you’re so good, baby. So perfect-“ He pants, placing a hand on the back of your head and bottoming out in your throat. While he isn’t quite as long as Seonghwa, you’ve always thought that his dick fits perfectly in your mouth. Just enough to make you feel full without causing any painful gagging. You hum around him, and he finally breaks. “Oh god- Hwa, baby, move… I don’t know how long I can last…”

Seonghwa doesn’t have to be asked twice. Without warning, he starts thrusting in and out of you firmly, holding onto your waist for support. You gasp, not caring about volume anymore as he pounds into you, each thrust calculated and firm. Hongjoong can feel you rocking from Seonghwa’s relentless pace, and he lets out a low groan, holding tightly onto a fistful of your hair. “Babydoll, can I fuck your throat? P-please?”

You blink up at him expectantly in response, and he tilts his head back as he finally slides slowly in and out of your mouth.

Hongjoong slowly begins to fuck your mouth, savoring every inch as he watches your throat stretch around him. His hand remains steady on the back of your head, but he never pushes further than you can take—he knows your limits too well. Your eyes water slightly from the fullness, but the way both your boyfriends are moaning, praising you, touching you, has your arousal spiking all over again.

Behind you, Seonghwa is groaning softly under his breath, his thrusts now faster, deeper, his hips snapping into yours with growing desperation. “Fuck, you feel so good, love,” he pants, leaning forward to press kisses to your spine as he grinds into that sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. His fingers tighten on your waist, and you can feel how close he is by the way his movements get a little sloppier.

“God, she’s dripping, Hwa,” Hongjoong murmurs with a breathless laugh, hips stuttering forward as you suck him harder, slurping around his cock like it’s the only thing you need. “Our baby’s soaking you.”

Seonghwa lets out a shaky whine, the sound sending heat straight to your core. “I—fuck, Joongie, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” Hongjoong growls through his teeth, voice tight with restraint. “Wait for her. Baby,” he coos down to you, pulling slowly out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Do you wanna cum?”

You nod frantically, voice hoarse with need. “P-please—I’m so close…”

“Then do it,” Seonghwa chokes out, slamming into you just right as he reaches around to rub quick circles on your clit. “Cum for us, baby. Let us feel you.”

It takes nothing more. Your orgasm crashes over you, thighs shaking as you scream out their names, walls clenching around Seonghwa’s cock in desperate pulses. He gasps, loud and broken, and finally lets go, spilling inside you with a deep, satisfied groan, hips grinding into you to ride it out. His head drops between your shoulder blades, breath hot and fast.

The sight of his two lovers feeling so good is enough for Hongjoong. He jerks himself off over your tongue, the pace of his fist desperate and sloppy. He jerks forward, trembling as he cums in front of you, thick spurts of release painting your tongue. You swallow up every drop on instinct, humming softly as he pants and wipes the corner of your lips with his thumb, utterly dazed.

For a long moment, all that fills the room is the sound of your shared, panting breaths. Seonghwa slowly pulls out, careful not to hurt you, and places a tender kiss to the curve of your lower back before helping you back onto the couch properly.

You collapse back onto Seonghwa chest, arms wide open for Hongjoong as he makes his way back around to the seat of the couch.

“Holy shit,” you mutter with a breathless laugh as Hongjoong climbs in next to the two of you, placing a loving hand on your thigh.

Hongjoong kisses your forehead, smiling contentedly. “We’ve really missed this.”

Seonghwa hums his agreement against your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You smile, eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion finally catches up with you. “Me too,” you whisper, yawning. Wrapped between your two lovers, bodies warm and sticky and pressed together, it’s hard not to feel sleepy.

The two men notice with fond expressions, glancing at each other.

Seonghwa kisss your cheek. “Alright, love, let’s go get you cleaned up. Something tells me it’s bedtime.”

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding.

“I love you guys.”

[sweetimpurity]

I Think I'll Keep You 3

Notes: Thank you for your patience and your kindness! I've been finishing school and I'm graduating next week so I'm BUSY! But I love you guys and I hope you enjoy! I recommend rereading the last section of Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 next chapter>>

w.c. 8k. rated p for plot

Miguel storms back to his dorm, across campus, clutching his jacket around his bare torso. Feeling like an absolute idiot for losing his cool. Losing control. What is it about you that makes him act this way?

It’s like you’re trying to knock down the walls he’s built around himself all his life. Running to his building as rain starts to sprinkle, he makes it to the lobby, rushing around, pacing in the elevator getting up to his floor, his mind on total lockdown. As the doors open, he steps out, eyes widening, heart thumping, instantly seeing Peter and a few other teammates down the hall walking his way. Before another thought crosses his mind and before they can spot him, he steps back into the elevator as the doors are closing, slamming on the buttons for the lobby. His heart beating out of his chest. 

It’s starting to pour by the time he gets back downstairs, racing out before anyone he knows will see him. He’s sure they’ll get a bloody nose if anyone tries talking to him now. He keeps his head down, pushing through the doors outside and walking in the freezing rain, running at a certain point, crossing the courtyard and running to the other side of campus towards the athletic building. His Nikes splash in shallow puddles along the uneven parking lot, his dark eyes squinting as rain pelts down from above. His long legs bring him closer to the doors, closer to sanctuary, out of the freezing rain. Soaking his jacket, his hair, dripping down the bridge of his nose, fluttering in his eyelashes. 

He pushes through the doors, sighing audibly in a mixture of relief and annoyance and realizing how fast he was running. He pushes through the next set of doors, walking down the dark hallways of the building. Sneakers squeaking softly on the linoleum as he reaches the team's locker room door. Rain drips down from the curls that flopped onto his forehead and down the nape of his neck. Droplets glistening off his cheeks and his nose as he flicks on one of the locker room lights. He has no idea why he came here. Maybe it’s just the only place no one else is. 

He runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back from the cold rain, a few stray hairs springing out around his face. His mind flashes with images of you. Your smile, the pink tint of your lips, the peachy soft roundness of your cheek. His breath is heavy and his cheeks flushed from the cold. He gets to his locker, figuring maybe he should just… just do anything… 27… his fingers slip over the lock as rain drips from his curls… he could run around the field until he passes out…15… the color of your eyes… he could work on those drills he just gave the team the other day…10… the joint of your hip… the team does have a big game coming up this weekend… the lock won’t unlock… 27… the crook of your neck… he could go back to his dorm and work on that grant proposal he’s been needing to start…15…he could go to the lab and keep working on his thesis project… your gasping whispers of his name… 10… he could go to you right this second and tell you he’s sorry… 27… maybe that would make things better…15… the sound of your whimpers… the pitch of your moans… he could kick a ball around until it fucking pops… holding you close as you come down… 10!!... kissing you as you’re trembling… Why won’t the lock unlock? “Fucking unlock!!” He bellows and tugs on the lock in anger. His anger is blinding, numbing, controlling… his fist slams into the front of his locker. The bang of impact ringing throughout the empty locker room.

Instant pain shoots up his arm but he doesn’t care. He hits the locker again… and then again… and a few more times until the pain is too much to bear. Bang. Bang. BANG! Until his knuckles are worn raw. Punching, beating, denting the big “C” painted on the front of his locker. Captain. Leader. But he feels like a fucking loser. Punch, punch, PUNCH! Until he can’t anymore. “Ah… fuck!” He grunts and clutches his hand. Knuckles busted and fingers tingling hot and numb. “Fuck fuck ah… ngh…” He winces and groans in pain. “Shit…” He sighs and slumps his shoulder against the lockers. His hand throbbing and searing, clutching his hand to his chest in pain. His head rests against his locker, and he can feel the dents from the punches against his arm. Squeezing his eyes shut in pain and trying to stop the tears. Clutching his right hand and beating himself up in his head for being such a baby… for freaking out… for having feelings like this. Even when he’s alone, he won’t let himself cry over this. 

“Ah…” He winces, looking down at his hand, trying to move his fingers but the instant swelling makes it practically impossible. Hissing softly at the pressure and pain between his knuckles. 

Maybe this was necessary. Maybe this was the only way he’d slow the fuck down for one second to get his head on straight. He’s standing there and going over the events of tonight in his head. All that shit with Dana… then seeing you, kissing you, touching you… leaving because he couldn’t bear to listen to what you were saying. It was too much. It was too real. And the kind of conversation he actively tries to avoid. He can hardly remember what you said, it all feels like a blur right now. He can’t even remember what he said right now either. Probably some douchey stuff. “Ow, fuck…” He sighs and winces, holding his hand close to his chest. 

He sits in silence only when he catches his breath enough to suppress the sounds of pure agonizing pain. He feels embarrassed. He thinks you probably hate him now too. You must. How could you not after the shitty things he said. Sighing, he sits down on the bench in the middle of the locker room. His hair still dripping down the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He thinks to himself. Watching the purple bloom over his fingers and feeling the searing hot pain. 

Why did I just do that? Freak out. Is it because he knew what you were about to say? That you… you might be in love with him? After all the needy nights, the sneaky meetups and the lazy mornings, why is he so afraid? He can’t help but think of one specific morning... a week before you'd left… after a long night entangled in the sheets.

“You’re so warm…” You had said. Wrapped in his arms after sleeping beside him all night long. Naked and soft in his thick arms. His chest pressed against your back, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He smiled softly to himself, wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. He wanted you to feel warm. He wanted to be the one to warm you. 

“You’re so soft…” He hummed into your neck. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You smiled, feeling so wanted, so safe and secure. No one had ever made you feel this way. And Miguel just kept doing it. When you were in his bed, he was always holding you. Always touching you. The sex was usually rough and desperate, and that was good… that was… incredible. But there was something about seeing him like this. Soft and quiet with all his attention on you. You were just dreaming of the day that these hookups would turn into something more. Trying to be patient but feeling like it would happen very soon.

“That tickles…” You whispered, squirming in his grasp as his breath and his lips tickled your neck. “Shhh…” He shushed you ever so softly, encasing you tighter in his arms and grazing his lips all around your neck and your shoulder. Knowing it’s tickling you, that it’s making you squirm. “Hah…” A soft puff of tense air left your lips at the feeling, unable to resist the urge to squirm and escape his tantilizing torture. “So sensitive…” He whispered, his hand coming up to softly grasp your throat, his lips moving up the side of your cheek before going back into the dip of your neck, biting down softly. You’d never experienced something so intimate, so romantic. You just closed your eyes, accepting everything he’s giving as you usually do. Except right now it feels like he’s giving it just to you. It’s for only you to have. His arm that’s under you wrapped around, his fingers teasingly tracing down your hip. 

“Hey, don’t start anything. We both have class soon…” You said with a smile and he nipped at your shoulder. “Mm.” He grumbled defiantly into your neck, breathing in your scent, your shampoo mixed with the sweet smell of your skin. When was he not trying to start something? To fill you up and keep you in his bed all day after having you all night. “You’re not making me late to class again…”  You said softly, still smiling as warmth spread over your cheeks. He smiled as you brought that up again. You just couldn’t seem to let that go. “It was one time…” He hummed playfully. “One too many…” You said with a sort of mischievous smile. “One too many…” He echoed your words in a breathy laugh, scoffing at your teasing. His voice is deep with sleep, fingers brushing down your chest, against your soft plush tummy and to your side, his fingertips pressing pleasantly to the little love-handles at your back, up to your shoulder blades and down your arm, his fingers encasing the back of your hand, so gentle, so soft. You’re still crushing on him hard except this time around he’s fucking you like he owns you and holding you like he made you. He sighed against your neck. 

“You know what’s better than being late?... Staying in bed…” He said all smugly. “You know what’s actually better than being late?... Being on time…” You retorted back and he laughed softly. He can play this game. “You know what’s better than being on time?...... Staying in bed.” He repeated and it made you laugh. “You already said that one!” You pouted, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your back. “You know what’s better than staying in bed?... Going to class…” You said quick and giggled. It didn’t really mean anything anymore but it was fun and you wanted to win this back and forth. “No way, that’s undeniably incorrect.” He smiled, leaning up on his elbow to look more at your face as you were laughing. You looked so cute. He just couldn’t resist. “You know what’s better than going to class?” He asked and you turned back a bit to look in his eyes. “What.” You brow raised knowing he was about to say something stupid. He really wanted you to stay in bed. He smirked. “Sex with me…” It made you roll your eyes when he said it. You should have known. He smiled and moved to climb more on top of you, looking down right into your eyes. The blush that washed over your cheeks and the way you tried to look so unimpressed. “You know what’s better than sex with me?” He whispered. Was there such a thing? “Sex with you.” 

You looked up into his eyes. The tension got thicker the longer he just looked at you. Your eyes rolled again, trying not to break out into a big smile. He said it so easily. Before you could even form another thought his lips were on yours. His hand coming to your cheek, fingers soft upon your face. He kept it quick, knowing you actually didn’t want to be late for class. He was only teasing. But he kissed you again… and then again. Soft pecks. That kiss he kept doing. Like his lips couldn’t stop coming back for more. Your eyes fluttered open when you realized he’s not stopping. “Mm!” You hummed, pressing softly against his shoulder and he finally relented, pecking your cheek before getting off of you. Chuckling and laying beside you on his stomach, hooking his arm under the cold side of his pillow. 

Your phone buzzed on his bedside table. Catching both of your attention. You picked it up, opening it for the first time this morning. He watched over your shoulder as you unlocked the phone and went to your messages. He tried not to look too much. He did glance at the screen a few times. A certain tension building inside him. Wondering who could be texting you. He wanted to ask, or just outright look at who was texting you but he didn’t want to seem like he cared. His dark eyes flicked to the side of your face, the wisps of hair around your ear and your hairline fanning to your cheek, the slight blush from sleep and his flustering touch. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this, being with you like this…. It made him want to kill any guy who so much as looked your way. Or texted you first thing in the morning…

“My mom is just… driving me crazy…” You sighed and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Your mom?” He managed to say, physically feeling himself relax finding it was just your mother texting you. The knot in his chest unraveling. He remembered you talking about some plans to go home for the weekend. A family reunion type of thing. 

“Yeah she’s… I love her but she gets sort of… crazy when it comes to plans…” You said and sent one last text before setting your phone back on the bedside table. “Well she just probably wants to see you…” He said and it brought a smile to your face. “Yeah… I just feel bad when she tries to take care of everything...” You said softly. Thinking of your mom, the kind of brave and determined woman she’s always been. “I told her, I don’t need anything fancy, I just need to see her and dad and my siblings and that’s it. And we have all the time in the world once I’m there. I mean… until it’s time to come back to school obviously…”

“Yeah…” He said softly, but it sounded like his mind was somewhere else. 

You have a large family. Lots of siblings. And Miguel doesn’t have that. He has one brother of course but he doesn’t even speak to his parents unless he needs to. It was interesting for him to hear about the conversation with your mom and your relationship with her. How you always spoke of your family with such love and tenderness. He’s never experienced anything like that in his life. 

“You have such a…big family.” He said softly. You couldn’t really tell with what tone he was saying it. Whether it was simply an observation, a judgment, or some sort of longing. “I do…” You sighed with a smile. You are the oldest of six which Miguel was flabbergasted to learn. “It’s not something I expected, but once you told me, it made sense.” He stated. And you couldn’t help but be curious as to why he thought that. You turned over on your side to face him more, his eyes meeting yours and the look on his face was a little surprised like you caught him off guard turning around like that. Making a direct connection with him. “Made sense, how?” You asked with a smile, curious about how he sees you. His face felt hot. The way it got hot a lot when you looked at him like that. Like his body knew something his brain didn’t. So he tried to explain while he feels like the wind is being knocked out of him. “Well… you… are very…” He starts and you’re expecting him to say what a lot of people say. That you’re dependable, you’re mature, you’re independent, helpful, capable. Because that’s how everybody has always seen you. Like anytime anyone looks at you, they’re trying to get you to help them in some way. “…patient.” He said. And you’ve never heard that one before. You smiled softly at him and he felt relieved. “Five siblings, I mean you’ve got to be patient, right?” He said and smiled, trying to make it all just a light joke, looking around a bit and away from the way you’re gazing in his eyes. But what he said was pretty profound. Tells you he’d thought about you and the kind of person you are. He’d thought about more than just sex with you. You looked in his eyes, a smile dancing on your lips. It distracted him a bit. 

“How does that make you feel?” You suddenly asked him. “What.” He asked, not knowing really how to answer a question like that. “How does my patience make you feel?” You reiterated slowly, looking right in his eyes like you’re staring right into his mind. He thought, getting distracted by that look on your face. The look that for some reason let him know whatever answer he gave you would never be the wrong one. 

“It…makes me…feel….”

“Fuck.” He sighs, the memory dissolving in his mind as he shoves it away. How could he be so stupid? Why did he say that kind of stuff to you? It’s like he doesn’t even remember that being him. Like he’s looking at someone else’s memory with you. He becomes someone else when he’s with you. But you looked so happy and he remembers how warm and soft you were. Holding his swollen, mangled hand, he winces at the pain still throbbing. It’s not getting any better, it’s only getting worse. 

It’s radio silence for the next few days. Midterms come and over the week you’re finishing up exams and tutoring students to do well. More students than ever are taking advantage of the tutoring program that you basically resurrected from the dead. So that’s a good feeling at least. You’ve been spending basically all your time in the library, both doing your own work and meeting with any students that need help. And just hanging out with a few tutoring friends. There are some new tutors that just joined the club a few weeks ago and it’s made this whole thing much more fun, hanging out with people that are like minded in that way. Wanting to help other people. 

You haven't heard from Miguel. You don’t know what became of him on Sunday night. And he didn’t reach out or anything on Monday to talk. Discuss what happened. Will you ever talk to him again? Or do you have to pretend none of this ever happened and he never existed in the first place. Your Sunday night heartbreak turns into Monday numb and Tuesday rage. Now it’s Thursday and you’ve thought of all the things you’d say to him if he showed his face again. But deep down you know it’s only the kind of thing you’d never be able to say. Like scripting the perfect comebacks in the shower and kicking yourself for not thinking to say it in the moment. 

It’s hard not talking to him. Not seeing him basically everyday. Because before this past weekend you were seeing him every second you both had to spare. You’re mad at him but you miss waking up in his arms. You miss the late night texts, him wanting you, coming to you and making you feel things you’ve never felt before. Maybe you’re delusional. Was that all this was? Sex and pillowtalk? After what he said Sunday night it seems that way and he made you feel bad for ever thinking otherwise. You’re not stupid, you know that friends with benefits exist and fuckbuddies are such a common thing. And you didn’t even need to be his friend if he really didn’t want you to be! There was never even a need for some conversation about labels because to you it just seemed so obvious! No one could fake that desperation and need. That wanting passion you both shared. The things he said as you gave him everything. Your body, your thoughts, your heart. His whispers of wanting you and how good you make him feel. 

Of course he felt good. He was fucking you raw almost every night and you let him because you’d fallen in love with him. But were you even friends to begin with? Did he see you as anything more than a body to do whatever he wanted with? You thought he wanted you. You were his. He told you that. 

This week has been hell but you push forward. Trying not to isolate yourself and staying in touch with some tutoring friends. Unfortunately, Miguel is so popular that you always find yourself running into his friends too. But you’re realizing more and more that no one knows about you. It’s like Miguel didn’t want anyone to know he was with you. Not even his closest friends. 

You’re sitting in the library for a tutoring session. Last minute cramming before the last exams later that day. Typing on your laptop, a student at your side and helping him on a calculus study guide. Elbow leaning on the table, watching him work, checking what he’s doing as he’s doing it. “Simplify it first, then use the formula…” You say softly and he does as you say, erasing some and correcting himself. “And then just the same on the next one?” He asks and you nod. Patient. That word is in your mind. Remembering when he said it. You were a little too patient with Miguel. 

Miguel’s watching all of this happen. Standing behind the library door, hidden mostly and only peering in through the window in the door. He finally caught up to you after days of trying to get to you. He tried multiple times to catch you in the library this week but he always missed you. Every night he debated texting you but ultimately decided he wanted you to text him first. Mostly because he had no idea what to say. He just wanted you back. For things to go back to the way they were. He’s pissed himself off. In his mind it’s like he’s convinced himself you don’t want to talk to him. 

The library is mostly empty except for you and your tutee. He wants to get you alone right now but doubts he can. Especially when you’re in the middle of doing something. But what you’re doing can’t be as important as what he needs to say to you. As important as him. His hand is aching badly as it has all week since Sunday night. Hidden in his pocket. He hasn’t done anything about it. He’s been taking ibuprofen but it’s not doing much.

If he has to wait hours to talk to you, then so be it. He won’t let this go on any longer. You’re going to talk to him whether you have anything to say or not. Somehow he’s managed to turn his desperation into anger. He leans against the wall outside the library door. Staring at the pattern on the floor. Fidgeting with the seam inside his jacket pocket. Sighing deeply, he feels uneasy thinking about what he’s going to say to you. What you might say to him. He’s got to act tough so he doesn’t lose control of the conversation. If he does he’s sure he’ll lose you. Because he knows deep down that he’s the asshole here. It’s his fault. And he’s scared to beg you for another chance. 

These feelings are foreign to him. Never before has he acted this way over someone and he doesn’t know why. Is there something wrong with me? He thinks. That always seems to be his first thought. A while goes by and his mind swirls with thoughts of you.

He’s lost in thought and only glances up as he hears the doors at the end of the hall swinging closed. Someone must have walked by him. He pushes off the wall, instantly going to the window in the library door and seeing you’re finally alone. His heart thumps in his chest. Clenching his swollen bruised hand in his pocket. He sighs and forces himself to walk inside. 

He gets halfway to you before you suddenly look up. Stopping him in his tracks. And it’s like he suddenly feels like he’s doing something wrong. Eyes locked and breath caught in both your chests. 

It’s been four fucking days. Not a call, not a text. Nothing. And now he’s here. You look away first. Back down to your laptop to continue typing. And he continues walking, stopping at the edge of the table across from you. 

It’s silent. Not a word dared spoken until…

“I need to talk to you.” The tall man finally speaks, towering over the table. Silence follows as you think about how to go about this. You thought about this moment all week. All the different scenarios and possibilities. You imagined melting into his arms as you’ve done a million times by now. But thinking back to all those moments it’s like none of that ever mattered because it didn’t matter to him. How can you trust him again when he treated you like he wanted you and then told you, you were never supposed to happen. After he finally spoke, it lit a fire inside you. “I’m busy right now.” You say softly, keeping your eyes locked on your laptop screen. While this time away from him has been hell and you’ve been heartbroken over this, he’s also been a total dick. You don’t want to let him get away with it. You don’t know how you’re going to do that but you try not to bend completely to his will. Your attention is directed back to your keyboard, typing away and ignoring him. All those comebacks are stuck in your throat. Miguel frowns, watching you. 

He’s been trying all week to find you. To talk to you. Trying to find sneaky ways so that he doesn't have to beg for your attention. And now seeing you ignore him. He wants your attention and he’s gonna get it. 

After a few beats of heavy silence, he walks around the table. You don’t look up, not even sparing him a glance. Glaring at your laptop screen and seeing his movement in your peripherals. He silently walks to the seat right next to you. Pulling it out and slipping down into it to sit beside you. His hands shoved back into his pockets as he sits like he intends to stay. 

“Y/n… hey...” He says gently, trying to get your attention. Turning in his chair slightly to face you more, his knee pressing softly into the side of your thigh. He can see your anger, he can feel it too. “I’m not talking to you.” You say without looking at him. “Well I’m talking to you…” He says so softly, one could mistake the tone for sweet nothings. You sigh, closing your laptop with a click, you grab your bag. Ready to just leave and brush him off if he’s not going to take the hint to leave you alone. “No…no.” He says softly and reaches across you, taking your bag, lifting it over and onto his side. So you can’t get to it. 

An annoyed huff escapes your lips, crossing your arms and staring straight ahead to avoid him. You’re not good at confrontation. Never had to do something like this before. 

His hand comes up to brush your hair back behind your ear. The backs of his fingers brushed across your cheek. And you brush his hand away when he does it. Is he really trying that right now?

“Stop it.” You sigh, pushing his hand away absentmindedly so he opts for resting his arm on the back of your chair. “Come on… let’s talk about this.” He says and you’re starting to fume inside. Now he wants to talk? After you begged him not to leave, begged him to talk to you Sunday night? You look over at him angrily and he keeps his arm around the back of your chair. His broad shoulders give him an advantage. “What do you want?” You glare at him and he sighs. He knew you might be angry but he’s never seen you look at him that way. “Why did you even come here? Just to make things worse?” You frown and keep your arms crossed, closed off from him. “I came here to speak with you.” He says calmly, trying to maintain the control he’s been losing all week. “Well you’re not doing much speaking.” You sigh. A beat of silence follows. 

“I want you to come over… tonight…” He says in that soft tone again. In his mind the both of you just need some time and things can go back to normal. “We can cool off and then you can come over and we can just move on from this.” He says and leans back a bit as if that’s that. Everything’s fixed? 

“What are you talking about?” You look at him like he’s from another planet. “Can’t we just move on from this?” He asks, patience running even thinner. “This has gone on long enough… I’m tired of it… come over…” He says again and he doesn’t even realize how disappointing this all is to you. 

You sigh softly. Feeling let down. He couldn’t even apologize. Couldn’t fix the problem he created. He didn’t come here to explain, or apologize, or to check up on you. The words just start to flow now. 

“So you just came here to get your dick wet, is that it?” You say and stare him dead in the eyes. But his expression changes, brow raises in a certain surprise. He wasn't expecting you to say something like that. 

“No… I… I wanted to…” He starts but it’s like he can’t find the words. “I just wanted to see you.” He says feeling like he’s teetering on a very dangerous line right now. And silence follows. 

Why must he be so confusing? It’s like he’s making it your fault that he has no idea what he wants or how he feels. This week started with you feeling so small and insignificant. You told yourself that he’d never talk to you again after the things he said. That he really regretted being with you. That you were never supposed to happen. Just like he said. But now he’s back and he doesn’t even apologize? He just wants to act like none of it ever happened? Like he didn’t break your heart? 

“Why did you ask me to tutor you? That day?” You suddenly ask as it’s something you’ve been wondering and these are the things he’s not good at talking about. He knows all of this started with him acting like a greedy douchebag but he didn’t expect to feel this way towards you. He doesn’t want to tell you the real reason he invited you to his dorm a month ago. The real reason being he wanted a quick easy fuck with someone who seemed eager and innocent. He feels like a fucking jerk. “I don’t know…” He sighs and shakes his head, looking down at the table then back up at you. All your words just seem to come spilling out now.

“Well you knew that I liked you...” You state as if it should be obvious. “What do you mean?” He asks and your brow furrows. Is he serious? “You… you knew that I liked you. When you asked me to tutor you? A month ago??” You ask hopefully, trying to confirm what you hoped to be true. You had thought he knew you had feelings for him all this time. You even hoped those feelings were returned. “N-no I… I mean I assumed maybe you might have. I didn’t really think about it too much” He says a bit nervous about where this is going. His cool control slipping. But everyone likes him so it just makes sense that you would like him too. That’s why you didn’t refuse him. And it’s all getting twisted up in his head. “Didn’t think about it? Like… it wasn’t important to you whether I liked you or not?” 

And the silence falls over the both of you right then. “Well then what is this? What have we been doing?” You frown at him, waving your hands in the air a bit because you just can’t understand how you got to this point and he just keeps acting so oblivious. And he’s losing control. 

“No. Wait. I didn’t say it right. I-” 

“Why did you start doing all this then? If you didn’t even like me in the first place?” 

His eyes go wide, not having an answer that wouldn’t make you feel even worse. “I don’t know…” He says again. He doesn’t seem to know a goddamn thing. “Was it just to string me along?! Is this all just a joke to you?! Are you trying to make fun of me or something?” You press for answers, feeling more heartbroken the longer he doesn’t give you a real answer. “No! It’s not! I am not trying to make fun of you!” He exclaims, shaking his head. This isn’t going how he wanted. This is spinning out of his control and he’s on the verge of all this collapsing. If this happened with anyone else he’d just forget it ever happened in the first place. But he couldn’t forget you if he tried. He doesn’t understand that feeling. 

“You’ve just admitted you didn’t even like me when you first started this… and after a month of me giving you nothing but sex, you still just ‘don’t know’?” 

“No, that’s not what I mean.” 

“That’s exactly what you just said! And apparently I was never even supposed to happen in the first place.” You throw his own words back at him and he scoffs before scrambling to explain himself in a way that won’t make you hate him even more. 

“I freaked out… I don’t know why I freaked out. Can’t you just forget it? What I said was stupid I don’t even know what I was thinking…” He insists. “Seems like you were thinking a lot actually. That this was your plan all along. You don’t want a relationship, you just want a fucktoy…” You scoff and stand up from your seat, to which he immediately stands up too. His earlier confidence is crumbling. 

“Come on, I was… drunk!” He scrambles to justify his outburst Sunday night. 

“You said you weren’t drunk or were you lying about that too?” You move past him to grab your backpack from where he put it trying to keep it from you. 

“Can you just come over? Let’s forget about this, this is a waste of time.” He begs and follows you around as you’re collecting your things off the table and shoving them into your backpack. 

“I don’t think it’s a waste of time…” You say softly and shove your computer inside. “Yeah, well I do… you have wasted my time!” He raises his voice, trying to get a rise out of you but when he sees your disapproving expression he knows that wasn’t the right move. With one last zip, you’re starting to leave the empty library. And he follows frantically.  

“W-Wait! Just wait… w-what do you want me to do? You want me to block Dana’s number? I’ll do it!” He’s speaking fast and frantic, reaching for your hand and holding it to stop you from leaving him.

“I don’t want you to block Dana’s number… I don’t care.” You sigh, completely over all of this. It’s too confusing. He’s a mess you’re not sure you want to be a part of. 

“I’ll block her right now… you can watch me do it!

“Oh my god… enough…” 

“Please.”

“Enough!!” 

“I’ll cut her off… I don’t even want to see her anyway, I hate her…and we didn’t fuck on Sunday if that’s what you think!”

“Dana is not the problem”

“Dana must be the problem.”

“I’m telling you, she’s not!” You yell at him. And he finally shuts up, watching you wide eyed as you keep scolding him.

“Do you even hear yourself? D’you ever think that the problem might just be you? Are you incapable of just apologizing or do you genuinely not believe this is all your fault??! All of your problems just have to be other people’s problems right?!” And he flinches as you yell. 

He’s stunned by your words and the volume with which you just scolded him. He knows he deserves it but he just can’t stop himself from arguing. He doesn’t want you to hate him even though he deserves it. 

“Well I’m not perfect, okay? I can’t be…I can’t be perfect.” He pleads softly, holding onto your hand like a lifeline. A silent plea for you to not let go of him now.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect!” 

His eyes stay wide. Staring at you like you’ve just told him a deep dark secret. 

“I’m asking you to stop being a selfish asshole!!” 

Your voice doesn’t echo in this place padded with old books and hardwood. It's sturdy and final. And finally it seems like you’re getting through to him. Maybe he’s understanding.

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same. Do not tell me I was making it all up in my head. I’m not the one misreading things. You are.” You say. Your voice is softer now. Fragile as you can see he’s thinking about all that you just said.

Tell her you’re sorry, Miguel. He thinks to himself. He knows everything you’ve said is what he needs to hear. He knows he hurt you. What he said was not okay. And now he’s made you upset and angry too. 

“You’re right I… about everything…” He mumbles. Sighing and looking down. His fingers slipping away from your hand. Letting it go. Letting you go. 

“I… I’m sorry.” He finally says. And you let his apology sit. Allowing yourself time to decide if you’ll accept. If he deserves it. The silence is deafening. 

“I-I just…” He sighs deeply. At a loss for words. He just feels so stupid. Rubbing his forehead down to his cheek frustrated. Sighing ashamedly as he tries to think of what to say that could fix this. “You asked me… to tell you what I’m feeling and I-I don’t know…” He says softly. And you stare at him wide eyed as he admits this.

“What is that?” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts for a moment. Looking back up at you confused. “Your hand.” You say, your eyes locked on his busted hand as he rubs his face. He pulls it behind his back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy. “It’s nothing I-” He painfully clenches his hand behind his back. The guilt is overwhelming. Please don’t feel bad for me. He thinks to himself. You’ve been far too patient with him. 

“Show me.” You demand softly, looking in his eyes. And you’re serious. He sighs softly and brings his hand out, holding it out sheepishly to show you. The hand that’s held you, the hand that’s touched you… it’s cut up and bruised. 

“What happened?” You ask sternly with a hardened expression when you finally see the cuts in his knuckles and the bruises. His hand is mangled, swollen, purple and clearly would cause anyone lots of pain. “Don’t lie to me.” You sternly say. And he doesn’t dare lie to you again. “I just… punched my locker.” He looks down ashamed. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. Broken and defeated. It’s not a good feeling, you don’t like seeing him like this. “When did this happen?” You ask firmly and he answers in a sigh. “Sunday.” Shoving his hand back in his pocket. It makes sense that he would have thrown a fit after he stormed out Sunday night. He must have been going about his week with his hand like that and not doing anything about it. “Did you go to the hospital?” He shakes his head at your question. Averting your gaze. “It’s gonna get worse if you don’t.” You insist and he just nods. For fear of his voice breaking if he found any words.

“I’m sorry Y/n… I’ll just go…” He says softly and steps back, and once again it’s like everything inside him is telling him to leave. You stand there. Not wanting to stop him this time. Watching him as he goes. 

“You should go to the hospital.” You say soft and serious as he walks past you. Staying still and not attempting to stop him from leaving. You’ve made your point. And he didn’t win. But neither of you won tonight. He nods softly and keeps his head down, walking past you to leave the library. And he’s going to try his hardest not to bother you again. You’re so kind, so patient, so real. And he fucked up the one good thing he had going on. The one thing that made him feel good. Instead of belittling you, he should have acknowledged that he has some messy feelings of his own. 

So he leaves. And you’re left standing in the library. You stood up for yourself. You told him off. But why do you feel so empty? Maybe it was seeing him so broken. When it comes to things that are good for him, he seems to forget himself. 

He leaves the library silently. Walking down the dim hallways of the building and then outside. It’s raining again. It’s been raining pretty much all week. Pulling his hood up, he walks down the front steps of the academic building. Walking through the rain and not even bothering to run this time. Letting the rain pelt his sweatshirt, soak right through to his skin. He feels so stupid. He feels confused. And he feels sorry. But you deserve better than him. 

Getting back to his residence building, he gets in the elevator. Staring at the floor and leaning his head against the wall as it travels up to his floor. He scoffs when the conversation replays in his head. His own words echoing and hearing himself act like such a dick. He didn’t know what other way to approach you other than to try and make things go back to normal. He wants things the way they were.

But he’s realizing the way things were is not fair to you. It’s not like all month the two of you just happened to cross paths. It’s not like you were sleeping with each other because there was no one else. It’s because neither of you can stay away from the other. It’s this messy obsession fueled with fire. He could touch you blind and know the pulse at your throat, the tips of your fingers, the plush of your stomach. He’d know the whispers of your voice, the fan of your breath over his cheek, the taste of your tongue. So then why is he so afraid? If he’s memorized every shimmering stretch mark, every inch of your skin, the sound of your voice, then why does he keep pushing you away? 

He wants you to be his… but he wants to be yours just as much. 

Miguel sighs as the elevator finally dings and the door opens. He keeps his head down, walking down the hall to his door. Unlocking it and walking inside. His hand hurts like hell. The cuts are just starting to heal but his fingers are still busted and swollen. It’s hard for him to open and close his hand all the way. 

His phone rings, vibrating in his pocket as he peels off his wet hoodie and kicks his shoes off. Pulling it out from his pocket, he sees who’s calling. He didn’t expect it to be you. And it’s not. It’s his Father. 

His heart sinks further, letting it ring, staring at the caller ID. This is the last thing he needs right now. Sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his vibrating phone in the palm of his hand, his eyes start to sting. Hot tears welling up and brimming in his eyes. When the ringing finally stops he drops his phone on the bed and drops his face into his hand. A shaky sigh trembling in his chest, swollen, hurting fingers clenching painfully on his lap. His arms wrap around himself, leaning over and down into his bed. He’s so tired. And he’s alone again just like always. He doesn’t feel bad for himself, he feels bad about himself. What is it about him that drives everyone away? You just answered that question for him tonight. It’s just him. 

...

“It… makes me… feel… steady? Like… like there’s nothing to worry about. Or like… y’know…” He sighed, flipping over to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as you looked over at him across the pillows. The words felt trapped in his chest but they flowed like a river from his lips. “Like things feel slow...in a good way.”

…

He remembers saying that. He remembers meaning every word. Right now he feels anything but steady. He's collapsed.

His tears dry after a while and he keeps trying to just fall asleep and forget all of this. Even for just a few hours. But he can’t seem to just fall asleep. His head hurts and all he wants is to rest for once after this shitty week. But his running mind won’t let him. 

His eyes crack open to check the time, his alarm clock blaring red in the darkness of his room. 2:17am. “Ugh…” He sighs, letting his head fall back onto the covers. He’s been sitting like this for hours now. 

Knock knock knock. 

He hears the knock on the door, flinching and sitting up slightly on his elbows. Watching the door and wondering if he’s hearing things. But there it is again. Three soft knocks. 

“Miguel?” Your soft voice sounds from the other side of the door and he sits up completely. Eyes wide and heart thumping. This is his last chance. He can’t mess it up this time. He immediately gets up and turns on his desk light, running a hand through his hair and going to the door, unlocking the bolt and opening it. He doesn’t care if it seems desperate, he is desperate. 

He looks smaller somehow. Or maybe you just feel bigger in some way. He’s staring at you as he stands in the opening of his door. And his immediate instinct is to try whatever he can to make things better. 

“Y/n… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t hav-”

“Put your shoes on.” You shush him softly. You didn’t come here for an apology.

“What?” He steps forward, not understanding your request. It’s 2am and you’re both half asleep anyway.

“Put your shoes on please.” You say again. “And a hoodie or something, it’s cold outside.” 

His brow furrows in confusion but he’s not going to argue with you right now. You’re here and talking to him so that’s what matters. Using his one good hand, he pulls his sneakers on at the door, grabbing his hoodie off the back of his desk chair. “Where are we going?” He asks and passes through his door to you. He’d go anywhere if it meant he could be with you right now. A soft hopeful expression on his face. “We’re going to the hospital.” 

To be continued…

images from pinterest

Taglist: @miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon

@m4dyy @nommingonfood @bruhhvv

@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen

@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid

@x0tw0d57 @vampyboys @miguelspriscilla

@francesca-the-1st @migueloharacumslut @daisy-artfield @peachey-pie @izakopanyi2

@rinnako @ohara-whore @migueloharasbbm @razertail18 @laysmt

@tojiragdoll @maiyart @wazawazooo @mun-2996 @marshhbs

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 5)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

A first date???

Warnings: Sexual innuendos and working through internalized homophobia

Author’s Note: No beta but this chapter took me wayyyy too long. This week was crazy with getting a new apartment states away and defending my thesis 😵‍💫

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4

Jacob nervously slipped into the kitchen as Melissa waited expectantly for a ziti you requested to finish baking. He attempted to keep space between himself and the Italian - for his own safety of course. The space between the two roommates had grown after he confronted Melissa a few nights ago about seeing her kiss you. Tonight he was looking to mend the bond between them. 

He leaned on the kitchen island, hands clasped and eyes studying the countertop, “I wanted to, uh... apologize for what happened a few nights ago. I shouldn’t have been so abrasive.”

The redhead only offered him a momentary glance which was harsh and skeptical. It was clear she wasn’t interested in having any conversation about the events Jacob witnessed. While Melissa continued giving Jacob the cold shoulder, he wanted to make it clear he was there to support her, “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you.” “There isn’t anything to talk about.” Melissa quickly responded in a monotone with her back to Jacob so she could go about her business of pulling the ziti from the oven. She placed the baking dish on the top of the stove, and took a deep breath as she pulled the oven mitts from her hands and tossed them onto the counter. Spinning to face her roommate, she cocked her head and forced herself to make peace with the young man, “Thank you, Jacob.”

“I found a new puzzle for tonight... if you would like.” The young man gestured towards the dining room where he left the puzzle, earning a smile from the redhead.

With a flick of her hand, Melissa turned off the oven and folded her arms over her chest, “I would like.”

--

When Melissa picked up your phone call and wedged her phone between her ear and shoulder, she had no idea you were sitting outside her house. Before she could get a word in edgewise, you spoke - trying your best to sound smooth and collected so she couldn’t tell you were fearful of her rejection, “Let’s go, Schemmenti.”

“What?” She leaned back in her chair, rolling her eyes to hide her enthusiasm from Jacob who sat across the table with his head cocked, staring at her in curiosity. They were about half way through their 3D puzzle of the statue of liberty when you interrupted. 

After opening your car door, you step out and lean against the car door frame, smirking as you catch a glimpse of her red hair through the front window. You doubled down on your mission of taking Melissa out, giving her an order rather than asking, “Come on out here. I’m taking you on a date.” 

“What makes you think I’d go on a date with the likes of you?” Melissa tittered as she tried to hide how she enjoyed flirting with you from her companion. 

You reply sarcastically, feeling a sense of excitement wash over you when you make her laugh, “My good looks and sense of humor. Or perhaps my love of long walks on the beach.”

Melissa finally lifted herself from her seat so she could make her way to the front window where she pulled aside the sheer blinds to catch a glimpse of you. Your cheeky smile melted Melissa’s icy exterior as did the way you leaned your cheek on your forearm as you gazed at her. She had one hand on her hip as she stared you down, “Where are ya’ takin’ me?” 

“I’m still trying to decide between the Olive Garden or some chain sports bar where we can watch the Cowboys play.” You joke, grinning wildly as you watch her lip curl.

She turned her back to you, looking around the room for her purse and shoes, “Are you tryin’ to get me to say no?”

“Just testing to see how much you like me.” You quip as you watch her curiously. More than anything you hope your joking wouldn’t turn her off from the date you had planned. 

“What’s the dress code?” The redhead asked, glancing down at her comfortable outfit of old jeans and an Eagles shirt. She had been ready to slip on her shoes so she could meet you, but she began to second guess herself. 

“Something easy to take off.” Your quick wit made the redhead stifle a laugh as she clumsily began gathering all of her belongings. Her pacing made her seem a little too eager to Jacob, causing him to arch his brow in amusement. You could see her grabbing her leather jacket and purse which caused you to remember the ziti you asked her to make just for this occasion, “Oh, and did you make that ziti?”

“Well, yeah.” She scoffed, almost offended you would question her willingness to cook for you. 

“Bring that too.” 

— Melissa folded her arms over her chest and watched out the window as she skeptically wondered where you could be taking her so late in the evening. When you turned into the stadium parking lot of the Lincoln Financial Field, she glanced over at you with a look of pure disbelief. She didn’t believe you could get her into the Eagles home stadium for a single moment, “And how do you think you are gettin’ in here?”

“I know a guy.” You shrug as your eyes sweep the parking lot for the entry point your cousin told you to find. 

Melissa was all heart eyes in the passenger seat, watching you with complete amazement. Her chest swelled with pride when you ended up handing over her ziti to your cousin whilst telling them she is the best cook in her family. And the cherry on top was how you gave a subtle threat to your cousin to make sure they would return Melissa’s baking dish to you. In a period of five minutes, you tapped into three of her love languages: having connections, bribery through food, and not-so-subtle threats. 

—

Melissa was like a kid in a candy store as you gave her free reign of exploring the sports complex. As a night security guard, your cousin had agreed to give you access to everything as long as you set him up on a date with some girl you knew from high school and Melissa’s cooking was just the icing on the cake. 

The redhead was in her happy place when she settled on the Eagles sideline bench and grinned up at you, “You didn’t have to go to such great lengths to get me to sleep with ya’.” 

“Who said I was trying to sleep with you?” You cock your head as you stare down at Melissa, your heart jumping into your throat as you consider sharing your true intentions for her. While every fiber of your being was screaming for you to stay quiet, you remembered you were conducting your relationship with Melissa on your own terms rather than giving her all of the power. 

You popped yourself down on the bench next to Melissa, stretching your legs out in front of you as you stated your intentions with confidence, “I’m gonna get you to fall head over heels for me.”

“Oh, is that so?” Mel perked up in faux excitement as she loved to challenge anyone when they were filled with a noticeably high level of confidence. Her heart stalled in her chest at the notion of you trying to get her to fall for you - in a way it felt like too much too soon and a long time coming all at once.

You nod, staring out across the field with your chin held high, “Indeed it is.”

Melissa allowed a few moments to pass between you before she spoke again. While the prospect of a new relationship was frightening for her, she was determined to give a romance with you a fighting chance. She leaned into you when she spoke, giving your arm a loving pinch, “This is a good start, but if your guy can get us into the locker rooms, things will go a lot quicker.” 

—

You shifted the car into park outside Melissa’s house and a silence fell between you. The date had gone well, but now there seemed to be a new energy between you that had yet to be felt by either of you before. It was almost as if there was a palpable mutual yearning that expanded far beyond sexual desire. 

This feeling terrified Melissa.

“Everything is going to change.” When she spoke, you felt the need to do a double take to see if Melissa had been replaced with a 16 year old version of herself. Her tone was the same as when she told her father she wanted to be a teacher rather than the next Effa Manley - fearful of disappointing loved ones.

You shifted in your seat to more readily face the redhead. Cocking your head, you tried to give her an encouraging response, “Why does everything have to change?” 

“Didn’t everything change for you?” She asked as she chewed her lip, one hand lifting to her miraculous medal to rub the image of the Virgin Mary with the pad of her thumb. 

While it wasn’t easy coming out when you were teenagers, you remembered the support you received from your family and Melissa. At the time it was all you felt you needed, but of course, after telling Melissa about your attraction to the fairer sex, you did gain a sexual partner - the thought of which made you grin, “Mostly life was better. It helped having good friends.”

Melissa hummed to acknowledge your response before falling deep into thought. She wouldn’t even know where to start. Jacob would be easy, but Barbra? She felt sick at the thought of even discussing the matter with her. 

You broke up her swirls of anxiety with your own question, “Why did you say yes to this date?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Melissa retorted as she was briefly filled with relief of a lightened mood before realizing you were completely serious. Her face fell once more as you left her in a heavy silence to respond to your question. Her reasoning stemmed from your spat that occurred months ago, “When you told me you remembered that night before the wedding… I forgot how you asked me to give you a chance and I never did.”

“I said a lot more than that.”

“So did I.”

When you opened your door to a red eyed Melissa, you were literally taken aback by the redhead pushing her way into your arms. It was the night before she was set to marry Joe - some loser firefighter she had met while tailgating at a Eagles game. You hated him since Mel told you he wanted to take her to a strip club on the first date. 

While you would never tell her ‘I told you so’, you knew he wasn’t the right person for her. You kept your mouth shut, hugging her to your chest and guiding her further into your little apartment so you could close the door. 

She told you through teary eyes and angry hiccups that the rehearsal dinner had gone terribly and that Joe was a complete pig. You didn’t offer an opinion, opting to let the redhead rage as you settled on the couch together. She would wave her hands over her head and curse in Italian while you nodded along, only deciding to pull her to your chest once more when hot, angry tears began rolling down her cheeks. 

Rubbing Melissa’s back was an easy way to settle her anger, but her tears continued to fall regardless of how many times she wiped them away with her sleeves. You held her face to your chest and spoke softly, hoping she wouldn’t turn her anger onto you, “Maybe you shouldn’t be marrying him if all of this is happening and you aren’t even married yet.”

“My parents have already paid for the wedding. I can’t back out now.” Melissa nuzzled her cheek against your chest. She was in absolute despair yet she wasn’t willing to actively do anything to solve her issue. 

“But if you do, then… maybe we could be together.” It was unavoidable for you to sound like you were begging. You wanted this so badly. You wanted her so badly. In the brief moment where she didn’t respond, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying a little harder, “Come on. Give us a chance, pretty girl.”

Melissa only peered up at you, and her furrowed brows and sad eyes broke your heart. “I want to… I just-”

You held a hand to her cheek, brushing her hair from her face. You were desperate for Melissa to come to her senses. Couldn’t she see that you were meant to be together? Your voice was barely above a whisper as you moved to press your lips to her forehead, “I love you, Melissa. Please.”

The redhead eyes lit up at your words - like you had ignited something within her. Without a moment’s hesitation, Melissa shifted to sneak closer so she could press her lips to yours. She kissed you over and over - each kiss was filled with so much desperation it left both of you breathless. 

She pulled away only for a moment, her forehead resting against yours, “I love you.”

From there you fed off one another’s passion and energy like frenzied sharks. You ended up making love on your living room floor, clinging to one another as if you would be separated forever if any distance formed between you. Only if you would have known that distance was fated to form regardless.

Melissa’s face was unreadable. You couldn’t tell if she was reliving that night with regret or fondness - perhaps it was a combination of both. You watched thoughts run through her mind and her green hues were pleading when she spoke, “Have your feelings changed?”

“Never.”

Melissa both feared and adored your response.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes longer, spiraling at the omissions of love and not wanting your time together to end so soon. It was finally Melissa who made the move to leave, followed by your immediate reaction to open your door as well. You felt the thrum of excitement as you circled the car and walked the redhead to her door. 

She stopped when she had a hand on the door handle and glanced back at you, noticing you were at the bottom step with no intention to go any further. Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Aren’t you coming inside?”

“No. I’m just walking you to your door.” You shrug, craning your neck back to watch her with a cocky smile. 

“Chivalrous.” Melissa’s dry humor emerged as she abandoned the door handle to stand a step above you - her hands sliding up to your shoulders while she stared down at you. After years of being entwined with one another, you wouldn’t have thought her next words would make you so nervous, “Do I get a kiss at least?”

Wrapping your arm around her waist, you pull her into you, relishing in the feeling of her body weight pressing against you. The feeling of her green eyes staring intently down at you was overwhelming, especially as her focus on you was unwavering. Glancing back and forth, you whispered with a shyness that made you want to swallow your words, “Aren’t you worried about the neighbors getting the wrong idea?”

“Hadn’t crossed my mind.” She whispered in return - a white lie meant to soothe any concerns you may have about her intentions. Melissa had no interest in her neighbors knowing more than they needed to about her personal life, but she chose to wrap her arms around your neck and press her lips to yours regardless. 

You could have sworn you felt Melissa Schemmenti moan as she leaned into you more to deepen your kiss. This wasn’t any moan, however. This high pitch, quiet moan was a ‘please dear god keep kissing me’ moan. It made your heart race and your stomach twist into knots - so much so that you pulled away.

“Goodnight, pretty girl.” You lingered close as you whispered your farewell, ghosting her lips with your own before you gingerly took a step back.

Melissa swayed where she stood, her flushed cheeks hidden by the dim lighting of the streetlights. She folded her arms over her chest, shrugging as she hopelessly attempted to find a way to bid you goodbye that wouldn’t rob her of her ‘tough guy’ style. The redhead suppressed a smile and watched you through heavy lidded eyes - she was smitten and hated every bit of it. “Yeah yeah yeah. Get off my lawn before I have to turn a hose on ya’.”

—

Melissa settled onto the couch next to Jacob and was stewing with mixed emotions she didn’t know how to process. For years she hadn’t given you the chance of letting you in emotionally, and the very second she let her walls down, she was tripping over herself to get your attention. She found you to be a perfect balance of everything she wanted in a potential partner, successfully making her feel remorse for how much of your time she had wasted by not pursuing this sooner. Mel was fearful of how you would move forward together, but god she wanted it terribly. 

Jacob interrupted her thoughts with his own - knowing full well he was treading on grounds that could quickly earn him a place on Melissa’s ‘Perpetually Ignore’ list. He was shockingly plain and confident with his words, “I know you are going through something right now, but don’t... hurt your friend in the process.”

Melissa sat in his words, truly taking them to heart. She wanted to do better by you and she knew where she needed to start, but she was fearful of taking that leap. The redhead stared down into her lap as she began picking at her nails, “We aren’t really friends...”

Tears formed in Melissa’s eyes, but she wasn’t about to let Jacob see how scared she was to admit those words aloud. She hadn’t even truly come out to Jacob and she was feeling entirely overwhelmed at the prospect. Jacob wasn’t phased, rather he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. He rubbed her arm gently as he spoke, “I know, Melissa... I know.”

Link to Chapter 6

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore

[lkblackham]

yep, it's

🥬WIP WEDNESDAY 🥬

Now that I'm drawing semi-regularly again I keep thinking "I should probably try to draw something besides Dragon Age/Emmrich Volkarin fanart" but then my brain is like "HAHA NOPE you are CLINGING to this fanart raft for dear life right now while the world burns and you're paradoxically bored out of your mind with your thesis" and I'm like "oh okay fine then, could have worse hyperfixations I guess" and it's true.

Anyway here's what I've been working on this week:

Remember the lil scribble I did of Harding and Emmrich running from a Ferelden Bear Swarm all those moons ago? Well now I'm expanding it into a fun lil comic, for which I had to look up reference photos of bear poop. You're welcome.

To take your mind off bear poop, I'm also playing around with another self-indulgent and overly saccharine comic featuring Baby Bel Volkarin. This one is especially fun because I'm gonna paint Emmrich's gorgeous glowy skull helmet.

My comics are my little treats to myself in between reading and writing. For every 500 words I write, I draw for ten minutes. It soothes my soul.

I've also been ✨writing a fanfic✨ which may or may not ever see the light of day, we'll see. It's more or less just an expansion upon the First Real Date with Emmrich sequence in the game. Here's an excerpt:

Atash squeezed his hand back. “It’s fine. Really. I’ll figure something out, eventually. I always do.” She grinned. “I'll take you there. You can meet my family, and they can tease me relentlessly about you, and there'll probably be a big feast that's mostly meat and booze and everyone will be drunk in the first ten minutes and ask you really mortifying personal questions all night. It’ll be fun.”

Emmrich raised an eyebrow, mouth quirking up into an amused smile. “If I didn't know better, my dear, I might think you were trying to ward me away.”

“I'd like to keep up the impression that I'm a competent, mature adult for a little while longer, yes,” Atash said dryly. “That tends to go out the window with family.”

“So I've heard,” Emmrich chuckled. (He's an orphan, you ass, Atash’s inner voice berated as she mentally kicked herself) “I assume you have a rather large family, then?”

“Yep,” Atash affirmed, gently taking back her hand and picking up her salad fork again, spearing a generous portion of leaves, cheese and strawberries off her plate as she ruthlessly suppressed the voice in her head telling her to shut up about her abundance of living relatives, “Fourteen siblings.”

Emmrich blinked, completely thrown. He leaned forward, attention rapt, salad forgotten. “I beg your pardon, fourteen siblings?”

Atash nodded sagely. “Eleven brothers, one sister, three non-binary.” "

Based on a true story. Kinda. I have eight siblings (seven sisters, one brother), and I've known one person who was the youngest of 14. Always a fun icebreaker at parties.

Being from such a big family, I thought it would be fun to look at Emmrich going from being single and on his own to suddenly being a part of this massive, loving family unit, who just immediately adopt him the moment they meet and carry on like he's always been there.

I haven't finished this chapter purely because I'm like "this is mostly just talking, people will be bored by that" and then I remind myself that it's MY self-indulgent fantasy romance shlop and I can do what I please.

Anyways, thanks for reading all this, I appreciate you, mwah mwah 😘 have a good week.

[scarfacemarston]

Bucky Barnes Disabled History Reading List

Hey, y'all. I'm nervous about posting this, but it's part of my Captain America-centered history book reading lists! This topic was chosen from a poll of different history topics, and it won the vote to be posted first. If this subject doesn't interest you, my next list is LGBT+ history from the 1930s to the 1950s. I'm a historian by trade, but I work with the public to try to make history less intimidating. I worked VERY hard on this list so if you would be willing to "like", reblog or even comment, it would mean so much to me. I have 50+ books that I've read at least some of and reviewed. Note: These books all contain adult content and are graphic in nature. I put warnings where I could, but I have not been able to read all the books, so I can't give full warnings. Please be aware that some books are older and may contain language we wouldn't use today. Finally, I have tried to include library /archive links where I could, but not all of the ones I posted are accessible to everyone. I recommend Google Books for previews. I hope the pics are big enough, but I'll leave an Amazon link in case they aren't. Let's get started!

1.

Amazon description. Archive source - limited availability.

I read this book years ago. Funny enough, one of the tuberculosis books I needed for my thesis was written by Katherine Ott. She’s a respected history of medicine historian. I found her writing to be pretty approachable and unflinching. (At least, in regards to the TB book I read.) However, some of her writing in the introduction is a bit dry and I admit I zoned out once or twice. But, this is a collection of essays and it’s not just her writing. The book is about more than WWII veterans, it’s also about breast prosthetics, eye prosthetics, facial prosthetics, hip prosthetics and numerous other subjects. The first chapter is about WWII veterans and the most pertinent to Bucky, but there is still value in the other chapters.  The chapter by David Serlin about WW2 vets is a LOT easier to read, imo. Serlin talks about masculinity and self worth and I think that works bang on with Bucky because Bucky was already dealing with his sense of masculinity and self worth before he fell off the train. I have a lot to say about this chapter if anyone ever wants my analysis. I’m flipping through the pages of the book to see how it holds up and I would still recommend it.

2.

Amazon description. Archive source.

I read this book pretty recently. This book and A Queer History of the United States are both on these lists because A. They’re easy to read. B. They give a broad history of difficult topics. The book deals with physical and intellectual disabilities, with a few psychiatric disorders analyzed, too. It takes race, religion, and culture into account, so the stories are very diverse. However, the writing is very blunt, but it’s not for shock factor. It’s to gain an understanding of the writing of that time. Some of the content is a little hard to read in terms of the subject, so beware. Everyone from amputees to polio survivors to M.S. sufferers to blind and deaf people, and more, is included. This would actually work well with a pre-serum Steve's history.

3.

Amazon description. Archive source.

I actually just finished this book a few weeks ago. As the description shows, it’s a really good post-WWII book about veterans coming home from the war, the chaos, and the PTSD that was never addressed. Such a good book about something that we haven’t really studied. The book follows three men - one who survived a POW camp, one who worked in the UK airfields, and one who became a double amputee after both of his legs were amputated. Highly recommend if you’re curious how Steve - but especially Bucky - could have been like after the war ended. However, content warning for domestic abuse and alcoholism. Yes, they’re uncomfortable subjects, but it’s crucial to realize that it CAN be a big part of soldiers coming home from war, whether 200 years ago, 100 years ago, or today. Sadly, I believe there is a chance that Bucky would have suffered from alcoholism if he didn’t have a strong enough support system. I’m basing this on his unkempt appearance and drinking alone in The First Avenger. Honestly, who could blame him? He was a POW and experimented on for months, and he felt like he was being replaced. I also read about challenges like there not even being enough clothes for veterans to buy once they returned home! This was a great book. It reads like a story. Btw, upon searching for this book on archive.org, I found TONS more books about ptsd and WWII, but this list is already long enough.

4.

Amazon listing. Archive source not available. JSTOR requires account/subscription, but has it. The introduction for this book was really dry, and I was about to write it off, but then I started to read the first chapters, which were way more interesting than I thought! The book is very new and hasn’t been uploaded to archives or libraries yet. However, Google Books has a very lengthy preview of the first chapters. Again, subjects of masculinity and being a burden on society are two key themes, but each book on the list has tackled the subject differently. I was only able to read the first two chapters, which focused on early in the Selective Service, which Steve and Bucky would have both been put through. This is interesting because I believe Bucky would have had to lie to pass because he may have had some reservations about joining the military, BUT, I may be thinking too much of fanon Bucky. Steve …would have been a very interesting subject for screening. Lol This book can also be found on JSTOR, but you need to have an account or be connected to a school or library. I like what I’ve read and I’ll see if I can sail the seven seas to find the whole book. I really like it.

5.

Amazon link. Archive source.

I’m actually reading this book now. While World War I is the focus of the book, the book covers everything from the Civil War to WWI, to WWII, Vietnam, and today. I think it’s important to see how developments happen in succession. The WWI veterans are interesting because Bucky and Steve would have grown up around a lot of them, and their perspectives would have been interesting. WWII veterans are obviously related, but I think the sections about veterans today are fascinating. This would be a good book to help with a Modern AU Bucky. The book isn’t too intimidating, and acronyms and names aren’t too overwhelming, either. He’s a pretty straightforward writer who is disabled himself. He is very respectful of the subject, and I can tell how much he cares about the subject. Being a burden on society was a huge focus as well as masculinity, but the “burden” aspect was more present, from what I could tell. Again, as with the other books, there are graphic sections. I really like the way he writes, and I’m definitely interested in reading the rest of the book.

6.

Amazon source. Archive source - JSTOR requires account.

This book is a bit older and rather dry BUT it is a collection of historians writing about different subjects, so if you dislike one writer, you may prefer another. This is considered a foundational text in the history of disabled veterans. He claims to be the first historian to write about disabled veterans, but I disagree with him because there have been books for decades about veterans with PTSD, for example. As with the rest of the collection of essays, they are divided up by different subjects so you can pick and choose what you want to read. I have the book, but I haven’t read much of it. I reviewed it a bit before writing this and I have meh feelings on it. I would have to read more of it to give a fair review.

7.

Amazon link. Archive - limited availability.

I actually really like this historian. He wrote the chapter about WWII amputees in the first book, and here, he has expanded upon that subject as well as others like transgender surgery, hormone therapy, and cosmetic surgery. He definitely talks about LGBT+ history and was one of the few historians who wrote about People of Color. He’s queer himself so that was a nice surprise. Be aware that this is an older book, and some of the terms he uses are no longer politically correct. However, I personally think it was the language of the time rather than any malice. (Meaning, He NEVER used any slurs, but most people prefer the term transgender rather than transsexual, for example. Although that may be a preference, I was told it was offensive to use the word transsexual)

His writing is easy to follow in my opinion and doesn’t tie the reader down with a billion names and acronyms. I wasn’t able to read much of the book, just what GoogleBooks was able to give me as a preview. I wish I could say more about the book. I like how he included masculinity in what I read, but I wasn’t able to read more. I’d recommend it if you can find it. That's the list! Let me know if you have any questions. DEFINITELY let me know if you plan to read any of these!

[epwritten]

kiss of life ~l.f

"there must have been an angel by my side..."

Description: You're slumped working on your thesis. You're convinced Felix is your angel.

Word count: 1K

Author's note: This little drabble is me because my thesis is STRESSING me out, but the weather's getting warmer and I thought of this on the way back from the library this morning.

Additional info: college you, 2nd pov format, non-idol!felix, non-idol!hyunjin, fluff, small drabble

GUYS WE HAVE THE LV SHOW IN LESS THAN AN HOUR IM SO EXCITED TO SEE OUR PRINCE

Thank you all in advance for reading! Hope you enjoy <3

You squinted hard at the screen, rereading a series of words for what felt like the millionth time.

You've been at the public library once it opened early in the morning, trying to continue to work and research for your thesis. Your mom had dropped you off at 7:30 before she went to work. The morning routine of yours was usually how the weeks worked. Mom would drive you to the library, you'd try to get a lot done by twelve, and then take the bus home.

Today was different, however, because your boyfriend Felix wanted to pick you up. He said no pressure, understanding if you would rather go home by yourself, but made the offer that he was there, to which you gladly accepted. You hadn't seen him in over a week, not that it was a huge deal for most people, but with the thesis underway you managed to shut out a lot of human interactions. Felix understood how much you wanted to focus. He never wrote a thesis but commended every student he knew that did. Especially you. You worked tirelessly, even on days when you didn't feel the motivation.

Days like today, for example, annoyed you because all you were currently doing was staring at the screen.

"That doesn't make any sense..." Your voice muttered, trying to reread the journal article once more.

You sat up straighter in your seat, clicking back on your document tab to update what last was added 13 minutes ago. Today wasn't your best work, you knew that.

But you weren't going to beat yourself up too hard. Life had a way of making it so that some days were high energy productive days, and others were ones where you could only manage writing 100 words before heading back home, fully neglecting your paper until the next morning you met again.

The staring contest between you and reference papers continued for what felt like long hours before you heard soft footsteps across the floor in the quiet of the library. There weren't a lot of people when you came, but only because you were there as the doors opened. If you weren't a regular and nice to those who worked there, you were sure they would be annoyed at you. But you didn't bother anyone, just went straight to your desk and worked. As the hours let on, more people would start to show, and your usual space of solace would be...slightly altered.

You craned your neck slowly, not trying to look too disturbed from your work and the sound of footsteps drawing nearer to where you were, but it wasn't until you felt people were right behind you and your desk did you turn, angling your body in your seat.

And then you smiled when you saw it was Felix, dressed in blue jeans and your campus crewneck (that he grabbed from your closet no doubt) next to Hyunjin, dressed in black ripped jeans and a black t-shirt.

"Hey," Felix greeted warmly, as he placed his hands on your shoulders, leaning forward to anticipate a kind of hug from behind. You smiled, putting your hand on his and squeezing it as he leaned back. You turned to smile at Hyunjin as well, who waved at you with a friendly smile.

"You ready to go?" Felix asked lowly. At his question, you looked at the time. It was now 12:03pm, and you asked Felix to come get you at 12pm. But you still had a bit more work to do. You sighed.

"Can you give me a few more minutes?" You asked, pointing the screen. "There's this chapter I wanted to finish reading, but..."

Felix nodded, his gaze darting to Hyunjin who nodded as well. "Of course. Take all the time you need."

You never liked when he was so nice to you, you felt bad. "I'm so sorry, you came all this way-"

Felix rubbed his hand on your upper back affectionately. "Don't be sorry, lover. You're working on your thesis. It happens." He said, his voice gentle.

Then Felix looked at Hyunjin, and back at you. "I picked up Hyunjin from the gym but he didn't eat breakfast beforehand. We'll be at the cafe and then when you're ready, you'll come down?" He asked.

A reason why you loved the public library you were always in, was because in the same building downstairs, there was a cafe. It was nice for students, anytime they finished with tedious hours of study, they could go down and relax, grabbing something to refresh their minds hard at work. You nodded at the arrangement. "Sounds good."

Felix smiled and then pointed at you. "Cold cut chicken sandwich, raspberry lemonade, and a blueberry scone?" He said, reciting your go-to cafe order.

You smiled. "You're the best."

Felix leaned down, once more. "Let me know when you're done, yeah?" He said, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, watching the two best friends walk through the book aisles and then down the stairs. You couldn't be more grateful, more lucky, that you had such an understanding boyfriend.

Through that alone, you didn't take long to actually allow your eyes to focus on what you were reading. You were there for fifteen more minutes before you shut everything down and left your workspace. You knew that you could technically text Felix and have him come find you, but he already came all this way and thought it would be easier to go downstairs and meet him and Hyunjin where they were.

Down at the lobby, there led a hallway where you could directly go from the library to the cafe, or, you had the option of stepping outside through the exit doors and then walking a bit to the front doors of the cafe. Although it was beautiful outside, sun cast and blue skies with the smell of springtime in the air, you went through the hallways leading to the back of the cafe.

There were a few college students, but not a lot as you could easily spot the sun and moon duo.

Their backs were to you as they sat down, eating and talking. Whenever Felix and Hyunjin would eat together, it was never across but beside and you found their friendship endearing. You couldn't help the smile that drew on your face at just the sight of Felix wearing your shirt. It was something so simple and not a big deal. The two of you shared shirts like siblings would, but it was so nice seeing something of yours on him.

You joined them now, tapping Felix the right shoulder and then being on his left side. You couldn't help but laugh. He fell for it every time.

"Hey!" Felix exclaimed with a gasp.

You smiled, slinging your bag down as you say across from them.

"Did you get a lot done?" Hyunjin asked.

You nodded. "I tried. But only a small effort." You replied.

"Awww. Well, small wins stay wins, and here's to celebrate what you did today." Felix said, sliding your plate over.

You smiled. "Thank you so much."

The three of you continued to talk as the day shone. You knew that even as stressful that the semester was, now that everything was starting to wrap up and the pile of deadlines was demanding, you were grateful that you had moments like these, the ones you knew you would look back on as the most important.

[hollow-lime-green]

ive been sitting on my 2sorcs thoughts for so long and i just have to pop in to say….talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, showstopping and everything else lady gaga said. was expecting that last chapter to hurt but golly gee did not think the shit would be hitting the fan at such treacherous velocities. amazing work.

a few questions: will we be seeing suguru’s perspective of that clown show of a date in fellas? did he know it was a date? was he picking up what satoru was putting down? why did that go so badly for everyone involved 😭

obsessed w u and ur work. hope you’re doing well!!

💜💜💜💜💜

you are so sweet! this ask made my day :)

when you're gojo satoru, you gotta go all out. shit hit the fan at mach 5. (stay tuned for more under the cut)

we most likely won't see suguru's pov in fellas, but it might be a fun side piece tbh. i may have mentioned this in a different ask, but the whole final chapter (with some diff scenes) was originally written in suguru's pov, so like, the words are there (well i may have deleted them but they're in my mind).

suguru absolutely knew/thought it was a date, he was very much picking up what satoru was putting down, and he was indeed actively flirting and trying his best to boyfriend at any given moment (holding doors, sharing jackets, paying for food, offering to beat a guy up). we know why it went bad - because we are in satoru's head and satoru is IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL. but suguru doesn't know that, so imagine what he thinks... (he's definitely going to blame himself)

i am doing unwell, but somewhat intentionally, so it's fine. i got my first round thesis revisions 2 days ago and have blasted through them. i should be finishing my 90 pages of edits today if all goes well, which is a pretty blazing pace. the good thing is that it's mostly text/formatting/phrasing edits plus some procedural stuff (caption format, etc), and i didn't get very much criticism on my science! yay! that means i did it right! unfortunately now i have to do the word > LaTeX conversion, which I have been avoiding for a reason... (readers call in if you want to vent about LaTeX)

i'm defending on 4/10, which gives me a ton of time (most people here have about a 3 week turnaround from thesis completion to defense, mine will be about 7 weeks - my advisors are extremely hard to pin down and get responses from, so i have to compensate by having my shit extremely together)

once this is over, i can take a deep breath and go full tilt back into fanfic writing, healing my body from this, and learning french 🍁.

p.s. (secret bonus info if you made it through my ramble) if all goes well, i think you're going to get the first chapter of fellas very ahead of schedule. for reasons i think i want to post it before some of the side pieces, i think it'll set up those very well. but it means there will be a big gap between ch 1 and ch 2, so i was like, unsure about that. but i reaaaaally wanna post ch 1 so. :)

[kikiswriting7]

Take a Chance ✵ JJK ✵ MYG - 4

✵ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

✵Summary: Y/N just move across the world to start her University. She is paired with a roommate who is complete social butterfly and makes a bet, Y/N needs to take more chances. And at the hint of her new found friend, her social and romantic life take a dramatic turn.

✵Tags/Warnings: Smut, College AU, red flag, sexual tension. angst, dirty talking, drinking, friends with benefits, full of cliches, friends to lover, temptation

✵Notes: Hello! Sorry it took a bit longer than imagined! I am also writing my bachelor thesis together with this and its a whole lot of words hahahah Anyway hope you enjoy it and if you want to be added to the tag list please sign up on this link! (You must be over 18 ;) )

lots of love, Kiki

CHAPTER 3 - ALL FUN AND GAMES UNTIL

Jin is screaming at the TV as we play the video game he so desperately begged to play. "Seriously!? How can you be this good?! It's not fair! You said you never played it before!" He quickly restarts the game from the point where I finished, and he didn’t. I shrug it off, smirking. We've been playing every other day together, either through calls or him coming over. Normally, we play some co-op game where we can team up against what we swear are young boys, who we are sure are screaming behind every elimination point we get. But today, he wanted to try this new Mario game where we need to complete the courses against each other.

“What can I do if you keep falling over?” I say with a straight face and a side-eye when he restarts the same level we have been trying to finish for the past two and a half hours.

Jimin, sprawled on the couch next to us and entertained by his phone, just laughs off the misery of his friend, earning him a fast shush.

“Ahhh, shiiiiish,” he says, taking a deep breath before pressing play again. “You know, I think we finally found someone who's good at winning. I bet she’s better than JK….” Jimin says to no one in particular. But the one he was talking about, equally sprawled in a corner, is quick to glance his friend’s way.

“I would bet my chips on you, Dice,” Jimin says, poking my leg with the tip of his foot. The nickname, unfortunately, stuck. Not because I liked it, but because they thought it was hilarious—such a random word for a nickname. Gabi proved her point for the nickname not too many nights ago when we were at a bar and I refused to do more shots with her.

The nudge delivered by Jimin was enough to lose my timing and jump wrong, letting Jin follow on with the course.

“HA!” He jumps over the seat. “Who’s the best now?!” He is excitedly playing the game standing up now, getting the attention of the two other boys in the room.

“Clearly not her…” JK mumbles under his breath. I give him a bad look, sitting back on the couch. Not too many jumps later, Jin’s character follows suit, descending to the bottom of the screen with a sad losing music. Jimin laughs again at the situation and goes back to being on his phone.

They have been over almost every day for the last five weeks. Eli is also one that doesn’t miss an opportunity to be over. However, since Yoongi introduced Mina, he’s been a bit more distant. If he doesn’t say he’s busy trying to finish a project for whatever class he has, he vanishes, to the point that not even the others know where he went. Whenever we do get to talk, often just small talk when the others are choosing the movie, he seems to always go back to the subject of this girl in school that he thinks is adorable. Every time he mentions her, he manages to describe her loosely enough that I (Jimin, Gabi, and I) think that the only person he could be describing is me. Mina was ruled out as a suspect as she doesn’t go to the same school and doesn’t exactly fit the characteristics he keeps mentioning.

“Man, you need to jump literally two seconds earlier,” JK gets up, steals the controller from Jin, and drops in the middle of the two of us, breaking the zoning out that I was entering.

Before he presses start, he leans closer. “Sorry, but this one you're not gonna get lucky, Dice.” And turns back to face the TV.

The countdown starts, and we both get ready to try and not lose first. Even Jimin, who clearly doesn’t give a single care, sneakily puts his phone down to watch what is about to unfold.

The game starts, and we both are flawlessly jumping the boxes, each step closer to the point Jin and I couldn’t pass. Knowing the circuit better, I know when to run faster, so I end up in front of JK, who is now reaching closer and closer to the edge of the seat. Everyone is holding their breath as we both successfully pass the point where we were stuck, and we can clearly see the end of the course and the last jumps we need to make when the door slams open with an out-of-breath Gabi, breaking our concentration long enough that we cannot complete the almost-done course.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “What is it now?” he asks.

“Oh man! I have piping hot freaking tea,” she slams the door shut. “I just saw Yoongi!”

“Are you for real?” Jungkook jumps up and points to the TV. “We almost won!”

“If you let me finish, you would have the same reaction as me,” Gabi says, flicking him off. She locks eyes with me before she continues, “I saw Yoongi. With Eli. As in, them together, quite close, together.”

Jimin is now the one sitting up. “What the fuck? Are you serious?” And Gabi just nods, confirming it.

“Forget it. This is so stupid. And so what if they were together?” Jungkook sits back down next to me but receives a side-eye from all of us, without reply.

“Anyway… thought you should know that,” she looks at me and at Jimin. Us three have developed almost psychic abilities at this point. We all know now that she means that the mystery girl might, in fact, not be me, but Eli.

Jimin sits back, rubbing his temples, processing the revelation. The room falls into a heavy silence, the excitement from the game now a distant memory. Jin, sensing the tension, puts down the controller and turns to Gabi.

“Wait, are you sure it was Eli? Maybe it was someone who looked like her?”

Gabi shakes her head, her expression serious but still with wide eyes. “Oh, I’m positive. They were really close, drinking that coffee.”

I glance at Jimin, who looks back at me with an expression that mirrors my confusion and concern. Eli and Yoongi? The idea of it doesn’t sit right, but Gabi's encounter seems hard to refute.

“Maybe they’re just friends?” I suggest, trying to diffuse the situation, though I know it sounds weak.

Jin, always the peacemaker, tries to lighten the mood. “Yeah, maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. You know how Yoongi is, always friendly with everyone.”

But the seed of doubt has been planted. I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. Over the past few weeks, I’ve found myself growing more and more interested in Yoongi. His charm and the way he could always make me laugh—it was hard not to develop feelings. But now, knowing about him with Eli, of all people, it feels like a punch to the gut.

Jungkook, still beside me, is watching me closely. He’s  become good at reading my emotions, even when I try to hide them. He shifts a little closer, his shoulder brushing mine, offering silent support. 

Jimin, ever the skeptic, isn’t convinced. “Gabi, you sure you’re not jumping to conclusions? Yoongi’s always been a bit of a player, but this seems... different. I mean, I’m pretty sure that both of them know that you like Yoongi…”

Gabi crosses her arms, standing her ground. “I know what I saw. They were way too close to just be friends.”

The room falls silent again, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I can feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, and I know he’s worried. I can sense he wants to say something, but he holds back.

Finally, Jin sighs. “Look, sitting here speculating isn’t going to help. Plus, Jimin I might add that hes our friend for ages, so maybe lets not jump the gun here.” He says giving him a small side eye “Why don’t we do something to get our minds off this?” He suggests

Gabi nods enthusiastically. “There’s a party at this club in the city centre. We should go. It’ll be a good distraction.”

Jimin looks at me raising an eyebrow and smirking, waiting for my reaction. I take a deep breath, trying to push away the hurt. “Yeah, let’s go. Maybe a party is exactly what we need.”

As we start getting ready, the mood in the room shifts slightly. The anticipation of the party brings a sense of normalcy back, even if just temporarily. Jin and Jimin are quick to joke around, trying to lift everyone’s spirits. And starting the pre drinking that we normally do before going out. 

The drive to the party is filled with laughter and light-hearted banter, a welcome distraction from the earlier tension. When we arrive, the thumping music and the buzz of people immediately envelop us.

Inside, we try to stay together. We find ourselves mingling with the people in the middle of the club. But my mind keeps drifting back to Yoongi and Eli. I spot Jungkook across the room coming back with a few more drinks, our eyes lock. He gives me a reassuring nod, and I feel a bit more grounded.

As the night goes on, Gabi, Jimin, and I find ourselves getting progressively drunk. We take shots, laugh at stupid jokes, and dance like there’s no tomorrow. For a while, it feels good to let loose and forget about the confusion and hurt.

“Another round?” Gabi shouts over the music, holding up her cup. 

“Why not?” Jimin grins, already looking a more then just a bit buzzed.

I laugh, feeling the alcohol warm my veins. “Let’s do it!”

We clink our glasses together and down the shots, the burn of the liquor making me wince. But it’s a good kind of burn, one that makes me feel alive and carefree.

Jungkook watches from the sidelines, a small smile playing on his lips. He’s sticking to soda, playing the responsible one tonight. He catches my eye and raises his glass in a silent toast. I smile back, grateful for his steady presence.

Hours pass in a blur of music, laughter, and drinks. At some point, Gabi pulls me onto the dance floor, and we lose ourselves in the rhythm. Jimin joins us, his movements loose and carefree. We’re a trio of drunken joy, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Yoongi and not far behind, Eli. My heart sinks, and the carefree feeling evaporates.

Gabi, noticing my distraction, follows my gaze and frowns. “Ignore them,” she says, squeezing my hand. “Tonight’s about having fun.”

I nod, trying to take her advice to heart. But it’s hard to shake the image from my mind. Jungkook appears beside me, offering a gentle smile. 

“Hey, wanna get some fresh air?” he asks, trying to talk over the loud music. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I say, grateful for the escape.

We step outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stuffy, crowded club. The outside, filled with people smoking and chatting loudly in the street. 

“You okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft.

I shrug, definetly feeling the alcohol in my system now and dulling the edges of my emotions. “It’s fine. Its not like we had anything anyway” I try to push away the conversation that I definetly don’t want to have right now. 

He nods, understanding. “You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are.”

I look at him and raise an eyebrow. For the past weeks, he has kept to himself with the flirting. We all have been going out together and his presence ever so reasuring. I give him a small laugh and shrug away his statement. 

He smiles, his eyes warm. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, but I swear I could see his eyes sparkle when looking back at him. My heart flutters and I definetly must be way more drunk than I thought. I need to go find Gabi. She must be drunk in a corner somehwere. 

I quickly turn around and stumble and Jungkook quickly grabs my arm to bring me back to my feet. “Should we go home? I think you had enough of party today…” he says carefully. Damn that cold feeling on my stomach. I definelty don’t feel anything for him. But why do his lips look so pink and soft? I can only imagine what they would feel like..

I shake my head snapping out of it, catching his big round eyes staring back at me. 

“No, I need to find Gabi. We always come back together.” We weave our way back through the throngs of people, the music thumping louder as we reenter the crowded club. My head is swimming, a mix of alcohol and emotions making it hard to focus. Jungkook stays close, his hand lightly resting on the small of my back, guiding me through the chaos.

As we make our way to the bar, I spot Gabi leaning heavily into Jin, laughing at something he said. Jin, ever the gentleman, is trying to keep her upright, a bemused smile on his face. Jimin is nearby, his gaze darting between Gabi and the crowd, looking slightly lost.

I manage to make my way over to Gabi, and she immediately latches onto me, her eyes bright and unfocused. “There you are! Let’s do more shots!” she exclaims, her words slurring together.

I’m about to agree when Jimin and Jungkook intervene. “Nop, no more shots for you” Jimin says firmly, gently prying Gabi off me. “You’re already drunk enough.” Jungkook nods in agreement. “Let’s get you some water instead.”

Gabi pouts but doesn’t resist much as Jimin leads her away from the bar. I giggle but I feel a twinge of disappointment, part of me wanting to keep the party going, to drown out all the emotions bubbling inside of me right now. But Jungkook’s steady presence next to me is a reminder that I will not be taking anything else tonight other then water. 

Just then, Yoongi and Eli approach our group. They don’t make it obvious that they arrived together, and no one brings it up. Yoongi’s eyes find mine, a mix of concern and something else in his gaze. Eli is by his side, but there’s a distance between them now that wasn’t there before.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, his voice calm and composed. “You guys okay?”

I nod, with a loose smile on my lips “Yeah, just trying to keep Gabi from getting too drunk.”

“I would say Jungkook and Jimin are trying to keep you both from getting more drunk” Eli jokes and I feel him tense next to me.  “It was his idea!” Gabi butts in the conversation and points to Jimin who, also drunkly, tries to steady her. 

Yoongi glances at Gabi, who is now back to happily chatting with Jimin and Jin, then back at me. “I can take you guys home if you want. I’m heading out anyway.”

We leave the club, Yoongi and Eli flanking us as we make our way to the bus stop. Gabi and Jimin are in high spirits, though their drunken state makes it clear that they’re struggling to keep their balance. Gabi leans heavily on Eli, her laughter spilling out in bursts that mix with the cool night air. Jimin, also swaying slightly, is grinning like a fool and bumping into things as we walk.

Yoongi sticks close to my side, his presence steady and reassuring. Eli occasionally glancing back at Yoongi and me.

The bus ride is a mix of awkwardness and exhaustion. I notice that Eli is starting to fidget. Gabi and Jimin are getting more out of control, their drunken antics making it hard for me to keep a clear head. I try to help them find their seats, but Gabi keeps giggling and leaning against me while Jimin slumps into the seat, his head resting against the window.

Yoongi sits beside me, his arm brushing against mine. He leans in slightly, his voice soft. “How are you holding up?”

I glance at him, appreciating his concern. “I’m okay, looking forward to get home”

He nods, a small smile on his lips.

The bus jolts to a stop, and I watch as Eli exits, waving goodbye with a slightly disheveled look. The doors close behind her, and the bus continues on its route.

By the time we reach our stop, Gabi and Jimin are both in bad shape. Jimin stumbles off the bus and as Yoongi unlocks the door, as he is the who is the most sober between all of us, Jimin pushes him aside and crashes onto the couch in the living room, his body collapsing in a heap. Gabi, somehow finding the energy, manages to make her way to her room, though she’s swaying and mumbling incoherently.

Yoongi helps me get Gabi to her bed, making sure she’s settled before turning back to me. The apartment is quiet, the noise of the night replaced by a peaceful stillness.

I make my way back to the front door, feeling a wave of sobriety wash over me as the adrenaline from the night fades. The reality of the situation hits me hard. I’m alone with Yoongi, the person I’ve been trying to understand and connect with for weeks, but was just out with one who I tought was one of my best friends here. 

“Thank you for everything tonight,” I whisper trying not wake up Jimin who was asleep not too far, I look up at him with a shy and grateful smile. 

He takes a step closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “It was my pleasure. I’m just glad you are okay.”

There’s a charged silence between us, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions. Yoongi’s gaze drops to my lips, and I can see the desire and warmth in his eyes. Without thinking, which I can only blame the 5 shots and the many cups of wine I downed this evening, I lean in, my heart racing.

Yoongi meets me halfway, his lips capturing mine in a heated kiss. The world around us fades away as the kiss deepens, his hands finding their way to my face, holding me close. The kiss is a mix of longing and relief, a culmination of all the emotions we’ve both been holding back.

When our lips finally meet, it’s a delicate, exploratory touch—soft and hesitant, as if we’re both savoring the moment of first contact. His lips are warm and tender against mine, sending a rush of sensation that makes my heart skip a beat. The kiss deepens slowly, becoming more passionate but still gentle, as if we are both savoring the newness of the moment.

His hands move to cup my face, holding me gently but firmly, as if anchoring us both in this moment. I respond, my hands resting on his shoulders, feeling the tension and warmth of his body. The kiss becomes a dance of give-and-take, each movement smooth and synchronized.

Suddenly, Yoongi’s hands slide down from my face to my waist, pulling me closer against him. The intensity of the kiss increases, and a soft moan escapes my lips as his tongue brushes against mine, teasing and exploring. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the firmness of his chest against mine, and it sends a shiver of excitement through my body.

I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer, the kiss growing more fervent. His hands roam my back, tracing patterns that make my skin tingle with anticipation. Every touch, every brush of his lips feels electric, and I’m completely lost in the sensation, in him.

We finally break apart, gasping for breath, our foreheads resting against each other. Yoongi’s eyes are dark with desire, his breathing ragged. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits softly, his voice husky with emotion.

I nod, my heart pounding. “Me too,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of my racing heartbeat.

He smiles, a soft, genuine smile that makes my heart flutter. “I should go now. It’s late, and you need to get some rest. You’re definitely going to need some coffee tomorrow.”

I manage a small laugh, still feeling the aftershocks of our kiss. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, for getting us back here.”

He gives me one last, lingering look before stepping towards the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I reply, watching him leave. The door closes behind him, and I’m left alone in the quiet apartment, feeling a mixture of exhilaration and nervous anticipation for what comes next.

I head back to my room, feeling completely sober now, the kiss still fresh on my lips. He’s right. I will definitely need that coffee tomorrow.

The sharp light of morning filters through the thin curtains, turning my small bedroom into a bright, albeit blurry, reality. My head is pounding with the remnants of last night’s revelry, and I feel a dull ache behind my eyes. I groan and stretch, hoping to shake off the fog that lingers from too many drinks.

I roll over to check my phone, squinting at the screen as I fumble with the brightness. The messages from Jungkook, sent in the group chat, catches my attention first, asking if we all made it back safely. Yoongi’s reply—a simple thumbs-up.

God. Yoongi. Did I actually kiss him last night? The reality of what happened last night comes crashing back. My heart skips a beat as I remember the kiss, the heat of his lips against mine, and the surge of feelings that accompanied it. The warmth of Yoongi’s touch, the intensity in his eyes—it all feels so vivid and real, despite the haze of alcohol that clearly clouded my judgment.

I sit up, shaking my head to clear the lingering grogginess. My fingers instinctively brush over my lips, still tingling from the kiss. Was it a mistake? Was it something real? The confusion and anxiety settle in as I replay the moments leading up to that kiss in my mind. The way Yoongi had looked at me, how our lips had met, the way his touch had felt.

I stumble out of bed, trying to piece together the fragments of the previous night. The sun’s rays are harsh against my eyes, magnifying the headache that pulses with each heartbeat. As I pad across the room, my reflection in the mirror catches my eye. My hair is a mess, and I look as disheveled as I feel. I reach for my phone again, scrolling through the messages to see if there’s any sign of further communication from him. But there’s nothing new.

I head to the kitchen, hoping that a strong cup of coffee will help me clear my head. The ritual of brewing coffee is a small comfort amidst the turmoil. As the aroma fills the kitchen, no matter how hard I try, my mind keeps returning to the kiss.

The way Yoongi’s lips had felt on mine was more than just a normal kiss— Had it been just the alcohol talking? Or was there something real beneath the surface? I keep replaying the moment in my head, his warm breath against my cheek, the way his fingers had cradled my face. But Gabi had seen him with Eli, not long before. 

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I need to talk to Yoongi, but how do I even begin with a conversation like that? What if he sees it as just a mistake, or worse, what if he regrets it? Maybe he was drunk too and might not even remember last night. 

The coffee brews slowly, giving me time to gather my thoughts. I decide to take a shower, hoping that the refreshing feel of water will help me clear my mind. As I let the hot water cascade over me, I try to focus on the present, on the routine of getting ready for the day. 

Wrapped in a towel, I check my phone again. The lack of new messages from Yoongi only heightens my anxiety. I wonder if he’s also been thinking about what happened, or if he’s already moved past it. The uncertainty is eating at me.

“Hey, thanks for last night. I was wondering if you are free later? Thought we should talk”

I hit send and put my phone down. Now, it’s a matter of waiting for his response. I hear commotion on the living room as Jimin starts to come back to himself. I prepare an extra cup of coffe and head to the living room. I drop onto the couch next to Jimin, who’s already wincing at the strong aroma of coffee. He looks as rough as I feel—his hair sticking out in odd angles, and the dark circles under his eyes making him look like he’s been through a battle.

 “Man I feel bad if you feel like how you look” Jimin grumbles, his eyes half-shut as he reaches for the coffee I’d prepared for him.

“If I were you, I’d keep quiet. You don’t look much better yourself,” I reply, trying to match his attempt at humor with my own. I lean back against the cushions, feeling the slight comfort of the soft fabric against my tired body.

Jimin takes a slow sip from his cup, grimacing as the bitter taste hits his tongue. “Ugh, I don’t even remember getting home last night. Was it really as crazy as it felt?”

“It was a pretty intense night,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual. I don’t mention the kiss, not really sure why. I blame the hungover I’m nursing. “We all made it back somehow. Gabi’s still asleep in her room.”

Jimin nods, his gaze distant as he tries to piece together fragments of the previous night. “Yeah, I remember bits and pieces. I think I saw Yoongi...”

The mention of Yoongi makes my heart race a little faster. I try to push away the nervousness and focus on Jimin’s recovery from his hangover. “Yeah, Yoongi was a real lifesaver. He helped get us home and made sure everyone was okay.”

“Oh, nice of him,” Jimin replies, his voice a bit clearer now. 

I manage a small smile and nod, though my thoughts are still consumed by the kiss and the uncertainty of where things stand between Yoongi and me. 

The sound of my phone buzzing interrupts the quiet moment. I reach for it, my heart skipping a beat as I see Yoongi’s name on the screen. I quickly open the message, hoping for some clarity.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking about last night too. I’m free this afternoon. How about we meet up and talk?”

A mix of relief and anxiety floods over me. He wants to meet and talk—this is my chance to understand what really happened between us. I take a deep breath and compose my reply.

Sounds good. How about we meet at that? I’ll see you there around 3?

I send the message and set my phone aside, feeling a slight tremor of nerves in my stomach. Meeting up with Yoongi will bring everything out into the open. I glance at Jimin, who’s now scrolling through his phone and looking slightly more awake.

“Hey, I’m heading out this afternoon to meet up with Yoongi,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “Do you think you’ll be up for a little while? Maybe we can catch up after I get back?”

Jimin nods, managing a weak smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need to get through this coffee and maybe a nap. You go ahead. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling a touch of gratitude. “let me know if you need anything else”

I’m not surprise that we were walking up late, way past noon. I get ready, throwing some casual clothes and leave the appartment, taking my time to reach the café. The sunlight feeling oddly warm and bright as I head towards the café. The crisp air helps clear my mind a little, though the anxiety about the upcoming conversation with Yoongi lingers. I keep replaying the kiss in my mind, trying to decipher its meaning.

When I finally reach the café, I find a quiet corner table and settle in, hoping that the ambiance and the soothing music will help calm my nerves. I order a drink and wait, my thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation. 

Yoongi arrives right on time, looking casual but put-together. He spots me and gives a small wave as he walks over, looking not at all bothered by anything. Why do I have a feeling this might go south?

“Hey,” he says as he approaches, taking a seat across from me. “Thanks for meeting up.”

“Of course,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “I thought it was important we talk.”

We both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the kiss hanging between us. Finally, Yoongi breaks the silence, his voice low and sincere.

“I’ve been thinking about last night a lot,” he starts, looking directly into my eyes. “I really felt something when we kissed,” he had said, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. But then, he had added, “But I’m not looking for anything serious right now. So I would appreciate if we could keep it low what happened.”

Yoongi’s words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world around me seems to blur. The warm café, the chatter of other patrons, the gentle hum of the coffee machine—all fade as I focus on the unexpected turn in his confession

His expression is a mix of apprehension and regret, as if he’s bracing himself for my reaction. I sit there, trying to process the weight of his words. The initial rush of relief I felt when I saw his message this morning feels like a distant memory. The knot in my stomach tightens as I grapple with the reality of what he’s saying.

I’m still silent, struggling to articulate my thoughts. The brief silence feels interminable, filled with the noise of my own racing heartbeat and the hum of the café around us. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

“I’m ok with that.” I try to brush it off even though the only thing in my mind was that damn kiss. He still seems tense. “I mean it was just a moment of…intensity. You just want to forget what happened?” I ask him

Yoongi’s gaze drops to his hands, fidgeting with the edge of the napkin on the table. “Not exactly forget. More like…keep it as a moment that happened between us, but not let it change things or complicate what we have right now.”

I nod slowly, the disappointment settling heavily in my chest. “I understand. I guess I should’ve expected something like this. I mean, we were both drunk”

We sit in silence for a moment, the initial tension easing slightly as we both process the conversation. Yoongi takes a sip of his coffee, and I try to find solace in the soothing ambiance of the café.

Finally, I’m the one to break the silence. “Do you want to talk about something else? Or maybe just…hang out for a bit?”

“Uh, actually I’m a bit busy today. Maybe another day?”

I nod, trying not show the dissapointment that is brewing inside. 

“Yup. Thanks for the talk today!” I say to him and he quickly finishes his drink and gets ready to leave.

Yoongi finishes his coffee quickly and stands up, his movements a little too eager as if he’s anxious to leave. He offers me a quick, somewhat awkward smile before gathering his things.

“Thanks for being chill about it,” he says, his voice filled with genuine relief. “I’ll text you later!”

I manage a small, forced smile in return. “Yup. Thanks for the talk today!” I watch him as he heads out, the door chiming softly behind him. The café feels emptier now, the absence of his presence leaving a noticeable gap.

As the door closes, the reality of our conversation settles heavily in my chest. I stare down at the remnants of my coffee, the once comforting aroma now a bitter reminder of our discussion. The weight of his words, the certainty of his boundaries, and the palpable sense of finality hang around me like a shroud.

The quiet of the café feels almost oppressive now, the gentle murmur of conversations and the clinking of cups a distant background noise. I glance around, feeling disconnected from the world outside, lost in the aftermath of our conversation.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my swirling emotions. I had hoped for more clarity, a resolution that would either move us forward or let me put the past behind me. Instead, I’m left with an uneasy acceptance of the boundaries Yoongi has set. It feels like a door closing softly, leaving me in a limbo between hope and resignation.

With a sigh, I gather my things and stand up, taking one last look around the café before heading out. The sunlight outside feels warm and bright, but it does little to chase away the lingering shadows in my mind. Previous ✧ Next

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[re--laaaaaxer]

At the rate I am going right now, I am about 65% in with my thesis progress. Maybe? Or not; I'm really trying my hardest here. It has been stressful recently. I met with my supervisor a couple of weeks ago, and she told me that I could actually finish my thesis and send it ALL in, like everything, from chapter 1 to chapter 6, by this coming December. If that doesn't scream out stressed-out-of-my-mind from peer pressure and anxiety, I don't know what does.

And so, I'm currently jammed in. My head is a bit scrambled, but a little notetaking and a 4-second slow inhale, holding it in and exhaling, will do the trick. All hope is not yet lost. If you ask me, it was never lost in the first place. With the right kind of determination, you only need to know where to find it at the right time and place.

We can do this, guys. Seriously, we can do it. ✊

[yuaoxi]

𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 || Xiao x F!Reader

Chapter 1 - Old Encounters

Tired of his father living vicariously through him, Xiao decides to start the band he's always dreamed about. Fame and wealth never mattered to him, he'd just want to feel part and contribute to a community that'd accept a broken man like him.

Starting a band in his friend's garage, Xiao runs into a problem: there's no drummer. Thus, auditions are held to be apart of the band. Our dear bassist has little to no experience with women, so how could he deal with one joining the band? Why did she bring so much of her 'girl drama' to rehearsals, and why is his ex trying to get back into his life?

"Okay students, you have a quiz due tomorrow night, and your thesis topic must be chosen by the end of next week. Remember: at least five pages! I'll see you guys next week."

Xiao clicked off the class meeting, pushing his chair back he threw his head back on the seat and stared up at the ceiling. He'd just finished the first week of the new semester and thought of ways to treat himself. He'd been going to the gym religiously since his breakup at the beginning of the summer, surely now he deserves his little treat.

Meow...

Looking down to see his favorite lady enter the room, "Hey Mimi~" the boy cooed to the tortoiseshell cat that entered his room. "Hungry aren't y'all?", he picked the special lady up and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. He opened a can of wet food and mixed it in her medicine, placing her bowl in its designated area. His rough, calloused fingers ran through her soft fur, causing her to purr. "Mornin' son."

He didn't turn around. "Hey, Dad. Heading to work, now? A little late, no?"

"They told me I wasn't needed today. Not much work, and they got enough guys in the shop. You got any plans tonight? 'Was hopin' you'd stay for dinner."

The green-haired boy got up and faced his father. The man wasn't too tall, but neither was he short. He had the same hair color as him, except his eyes were a dull brown. Handsome, but not charming. His hands were also calloused from constantly being in the shop, and if he wasn't at the shop he was at the bar. His body was toned, but not as much as when he was 10 years younger, he's gained weight but he doesn't look bad.

"I'm going out today, Venti invited me over. But I'll be back for dinner."

The older man scoffed, "Yeah, sure. Be safe, kiddo."

"I will," Xiao grabbed his dark brown jacket, "later Dad."

The boy started up his car, putting on some random playlist off his phone and directions to the campus. Despite taking online classes, Xiao still frequents the school. His neighbor Venti got a DUI last semester and had his license revoked; somehow, that sly mouth of his got him out of paying a fine and jail time. Since then, he's been driving Venti to campus, which didn't matter to him as his class time was much later than his friend's. Unfortunately, that also meant Venti had to find something else to do for an hour while he waited for Xiao's class to end.

Golden orbs observed other students walking around. Some were with friends, some walking away from the parking lot heading to class, and those heading towards the parking lot to leave campus. But in the back of his mind, he wanted to see a certain someone walk by, even if it'd make his heart drop down to his stomach.

Knocking interrupted his thoughts, on the other side of the window was a pale boy with a mischievous smile, face and hands pressed against the window. With his left hand, he pointed down to the lock on the door. Xiao let out a sigh and unlocked the door for him, watching the boy open the door and take a seat on the passenger's side. "So, how was the drive here? Wanna check out this ice cream place?"

Facing his friend in the passenger seat, Xiao nodded, "It was fine, just put in the directions." Even if his demeanor seemed uninterested, Venti knew his best friend. Even if Xiao wouldn't ever admit it, he likes discovering quaint places and has a soft spot for cute things. Mila's collar is a crochet cream and black color with white flowers, something he bought off the internet for his cat's birthday. Venti once went to an arcade and luck struck as he nearly emptied out a claw machine for a particular plush, he gave all the extra plushies to his friends, of course giving his stoic friend a round, white and pastel green bird plush.

"May your dearest friend be blessed with the radio?"

Sigh. What a theater kid.

"Go ahead. Nothing loud, this time."

"Many thanks!" Venti giggled, shuffling through his playlists. A slow melody played with expressive, yet calm vocals. Nothing boring, of course.

As they near the small downtown area of the city, Xiao quickly finds parking near the side of the buildings where the ice cream shop is located. He turns the car off and gets out the door, stuffing the keys in his jacket pocket. Venti throws his backpack off his lap and onto the backseat of his friend's car, hopping out to join his friend.

"You know, I was a little skeptical about this place initially. Mixed reviews from EVERYONE! But ever since they switched owners, the quality seemed to go up! Or so I heard." The slightly shorter boy announced to his friend. He skipped ahead of his friend, walking his own pace, hands in his pockets.

Golden eyes rolled to the back of his head. He's passed by the ice cream shop so many times, even promising his ex that he'd take her there soon. Before everything happened. While walking around downtown brought him back memories he'd rather forget, he didn't really seem to feel anxious about entering the shop. It'd be his first time entering, the first memories to be made there would be with his annoying friend. Who wouldn't ask for anything more, honestly?

As the pair entered the shop, the bell hanging above the door chimed. The shop was rather small, two tables on either side of the windows and three more against the walls. On the other side of the room was the ice cream displays, with the menu hung on the wall, written with chalk.

"Welcome in!" An older woman called out from the counter, "I'll be right with you, shortly." She was checking out 3 very familiar girls at the register, Venti's other friends.

All three turned to face the men that entered the building, their faces lighting up as Venti skipping over to them. Xiao trailing right behind him. He'd never admit it, but he's quite awkward and shy, often avoiding eye contact.

While he knew who the girls were, he's never really considered them friends or bothered to get to know them. Not like he was allowed to anyways.

Hu Tao, he attended high school with her. Maybe they've taken a class together a couple times, but she was never really too memorable in his head. All he remembered was her bringing tarot cards to school, and offering her friends and table mates readings. Also how she inherited her family's funeral and mortuary business. She's always been a little cool to him, but not interesting enough to know more than that.

Ayaka was the school's "princess". At least from what Venti has told him. They've never attended school, nor have any classes that overlap. He's aware that his friend, Thoma, has a crush on her. And he could understand why, she's beautiful, dresses well, and whatever else Thoma would say about her. All Xiao really knows is she's humble and gives back to the community, which he respects.

Now, Y/N, he's known her for years. But he wouldn't say they were close. They were childhood friends in a way. Both raised by single dads who are also buddies and co-workers. If neither parents could find a babysitter, they'd usually play at their father's work. As they grew older, they drifted and ended up spending days home alone. Xiao going to Venti's, Y/N to Hu Tao's. He doesn't exactly feel at ease with her, but neither does he feel awkward around her. Are those piercings new?

"...so good! Delicious, hope you enjoy it. Later, Venti!" The girls say, waving their goodbyes at the smiley boy. As they're heading towards the door they also wave a goodbye to Xiao, it'd be rude to ignore him, of course. They end up jumping into Y/N's car to enjoy their treat.

A sigh escaped Xiao's pink lips, turning to look at his friend, then the old woman at the register.

"Uh, may I please get...?"

------------------------------

Giggles filled the car as Hu Tao wrapped up the story about her classmate fainting mid-class over a dismembered mannequin that they had to restore.

"Is it really too much to look at?" Ayaka asked, getting another scoop of her ice cream.

"I'm used to it," Hu Tao sighed, "I didn't consider the fact that others weren't also raised working at a funeral home."

"I think I'd freak out too. There's definitely something unsettling about getting up in a corpse's face to give them a green cut crease." Y/N chimed in. The car was already parked at the mall, she and her friends just decided to finish their ice cream in the car before heading in.

"A green cut crease?! Not very demure." Hu Tao snorted in laughter, which caused the other girls to join in with laughter.

"Alright, is everyone done? What are we looking for today?" Y/N asked the girls, looking in the rearview mirror to make eye contact with Hu Tao. The girl was in black jeans, a pair of black shoes, and a cropped, skin-tight tank with a logo of a band on it. Her hair half up-half down, bangs swept to the side.

"Well, Ayaka is planning to go on a date with Thoma so maybe something sexy and flirty."

Ayaka's entire face went red, contrasting her white tank top, decorated with tiny black bows on the straps. She grabbed her dark grey skirt, decorated with matching black bows on the hem, in embarrassment. "I-... It's not a date, guys! He just needed help studying for a class." the girl huffed out.

Hu Tao and Y/N locked eyes in the mirror once again, sharing smiles that let out giggles.

"Alright girlies, let's head in!"

-----

Browsing through a stationary store, Y/N glanced up and saw a familiar silhouette.

Kazuha.

Unfortunately, his looks really don't go with his personality. His hair is styled down, sporting a black bandana that shaped his hair so well. A white wife beater underneath an oversized cream button up that's only buttoned in the middle, exposing his silver necklaces, half-tucked into dark khaki pants.

'I really thought today I could dress a little bummy huh...' Y/N thought, as she headed deeper into the store to find her friends.

Y/N's outfit consisted of a dark jersey, also half-tucked, glasses on, and light-colored baggy jeans, held up with a grey belt. Nothing too shabby, but not something really impressive. Especially as her ex is outside the store and it hasn't been even a month since their break up. They both agreed to stay friends, but it really hasn't been working. Kazuha would notice whenever Y/N is talking to another guy and put on his friendly, yet intimidating, demeanor. Thus, called for Y/N to go no contact (except for the occasional 7/11 run).

As she found sight of the missing pair, a hand landed on her shoulder. Turning around was Kazuha, himself. "Hey, uh, what are you doing here?" Y/N nervously chucked out, hands twiddling with her hair.

"Shopping, really. I ran out of ink so I came in here to grab some more, didn't think I'd see you here either."

"Oh, y'know, just browsing... You know I really have to get back to-"

"There's a party. Tonight. Heard it's gonna be a rager. I know you haven't been out lately, so come out and join me." Kazuha looked up, seeing Y/N's two friends giving him death glares and heading their way over to the rescue. "Bring your friends too. I'll text you the invite."

Y/N's cheeks reddened. Kazuha threw a wink at her prior to heading to another section of the store.

Hu Tao and Ayaka each placed a hand on Y/N's arms, replacing the sight of Kazuha with their bodies. "Are you okay? He didn't say anything weird right?" Hu Tao asked as Ayaka turned around to make sure he was completely out of view.

"Uhm, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Err... Are you guys down for a party?"

A/N: found on ao3 as well, I update there before I update here feel free to send in song requests 🫶🏼

moodboard

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[unlirise]

🖋️ 240521 • tue

i've been waking up really early lately. around 5-6am. idk what's up with my body clock doing that but i'm grateful for it because it does give me more time in the day to accomplish a lot of things.

but it all really goes to waste if i spend the rest of my morning on my phone going through social media. i can do that at any other point of the day, i can wind down by doing that tonight. i wanted to try something different, so i decided to read for an hour.

it's admittedly hard to find time to read these days mostly because i feel like it gets in the middle of something. it's a leisure activity to me, something i do for enjoyment. but there are so many other things i have to get done before i can truly enjoy myself. otherwise, i'd be procrastinating. slacking.

so, in the end, i never get to pick up a book and just read. i've been trying to read a little life since september 2022. hopefully this new thing i'll occasionally try out (i don't want to make it a routine – i find that forcing myself to a certain habit will eventually lead to it dying out) will help me to go through my reading list and reignite my love for literature.

on another note, i want to share my to-do list for the day. i'm proud of myself for finishing most of what i wrote in yesterday's list. hopefully today will be the same.

rise's tuesday tasks:

ask for tutorial form from the registrar

finish revising chapter 1 of my thesis

annotate areas for revision in chapter 3

batch cook pasta for the week

with that, i'll end with a quote i annotated:

When we choose to live in a society, we choose to live under a contract, and to abide by the rules that a contract dictates for us.

[bimarts]

as an architecture student i need the jason fic ao baddd 🙈🙈🙈

I currently have an outline in the works, just have to finish a few other things I had planned first. It's going to be a few chapters, but nothing crazy long. Four of five parts maybe? I'll try to keep it under 50k words. Haven't finished the outline so we'll see. I'm always so bad at making endings, so that will be the biggest hurdle to overcome!

Working on my masters thesis for architecture sure has me even more heated about the topic though because imagine if it was a passion project based on years of work and its finished for literally a week and then just get destroyed.

[duckiemimi]

Gojo deserved so much better :((

i completely agree, and if you look through the "jjk 236" tag on here in addition to what i've written about jjk 261, you'd see that i've said my piece and more. and if i ever have it in me again, i could say even more, too. this post (click) aired most of my grievances about gojo.

while i'm here, i guess i'll talk about gege's writing, his circumstances in the industry aside. as a reader, i try my best to understand where a writer is coming from and what they're trying to convey. i put effort into articulating what i think is happening and why it's happening, and then what might happen next based off of patterns, but of course, that doesn't come without my own subjective commentary. i think i understand the overarching thesis of the story gege's created. do i like how it came about as a whole? no, not exactly.

gege seems to be the type of writer who jots down major plot points weeks before they happen, and only later does he plan loosely around them. that's why the pacing seems so inconsistent, especially with the last arc. gege (under SJ as publishing) also relies too much on audience reactions to build hype around the story through shocking scenes, a misguided strategy to appeal to readers at the expense of cohesiveness. he also likes telling, and not showing. a big pet peeve of mine if it's not done right. you don't need to extensively world-build if you haven't developed the world you're writing about like that. i could do without careless exposition dumps that serve nothing else in the story. it almost feels condescending.

gege's magic lies in his more introspective and dreamy chapters, and even then they fall flatter than they should because he rarely ever develops themes and aspects well enough for them to feel earned. most times (as of recent especially), while nice and momentarily touching, they fail to convince me. they feel shallow. it's like writing a sentence without a period in the end, or not finishing the sentence at all. it's hard to pull off genuine introspection without actually developing characters and having them act like humans, or—human adjacent. gege sets his eyes on the prize, blinks, and doesn't quite know how he ended up at the finish line.

as much as i love jjk (and trust me, i really do), i try not to let my attachment get in the way of really looking. credit where credit is due, the good and the bad. but yea. i'm just looking forward to see how he ends this.

[em03z25]

TMI

Chapter 2, Living Room. (Masterlist)

Next

It just kept repeating in your head.  

“But Minho said the pretty girl next door needs to get laid, and I have a good chance with you.”  

You wonder if he’d be that confident in himself when sober. 

But on the other hand, Minho was seriously trying to set up a booty call for you. Minho was seriously trying to set up a booty call for you. For what reason does he think that you have time for that? You have no clue. You and Minho are both in graduate school, and he knows you must finish your thesis paper by the end of October so you can start the research phase. You know he thinks behavioral psychology is boring compared to his interests in dance and entertainment/media management. Just because he doesn’t see the point of your degree doesn’t mean it isn’t as time-consuming as his is. Trauma responses can be an extremely sensitive topic to research, and wanting to be over-prepared is the best option in your eyes.  

You break out of your train of thought when Chan falls; only a small grunt escapes his lips as he faceplants on the floor. Yes, you let him inside your house because the man can hardly walk. The fall might’ve been a little harder than you initially thought it was, and you can’t just let him walk around like this. You bring over the water bottle, granola bar, and aspirin for him, sitting them down on the coffee table, then sitting on the floor next to him. Grabbing the blanket from the couch, you place it on him. Initially, he was cuddled up on the couch with a pillow, but maybe he wasn’t comfortable enough up there. His partially curly hair is a unique sight in Korea. 

“I think you should just try to sleep down here if you can’t stay still,” you sigh. He pulls the blanket over him and rolls over to curl up against the bottom of the couch’s frame. His dark brown hair was slightly curly and pointed in all different directions, making him look as disheveled as his mental capacity was now. You have to hand it to Minho. Chan is very handsome, and totally your type. You wonder what he was majoring in; how have you not seen him on campus before? His accent is a little different compared to yours; maybe he transferred recently? To be honest, you only came to South Korea for graduate school last year, so your Korean isn’t that great. The only reason you’re succeeding in college right now is because you don’t have to write in Korean.  

You stop yourself from staring at him, you get up and go upstairs to quietly get ready for bed. You text Minho about his friend and said he could come claim him once you’re awake. You’re not going to let him get away with this so easily. How do you let your friend climb a fence just to get into someone’s pants? Head injuries are no joke, especially when someone is drunk. As you pull the sweatshirt over your head, you think how you might want to relax a little with some friendly company during fall break.. But that’s still three weeks away, you don't need to worry about that right now. Then again, you are technically ahead when it came to your thesis. It only needs one more proofread from the writing center before you can turn it into your professor. You roll over and huff in frustration since it was about two in the morning. You usually are in bed by 12:30 at the latest. Putting on your favorite ASMR playlist, you quickly fall asleep thinking about the soft curls on the man downstairs.

Reminder that this is also under ao3 under me, snowballing97, please don't copy my work. -em :)