#And like bro your understanding is sophomoric at best | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harunovella · 2 years

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embers of a fire ; c.k.

synopsis: you loathed him, you despised him... and you couldn't even truly understand as to why. it was superficial, overly judgmental of you to hate choso kamo... however, a class project forces you to spend time with him. little did you know, the man you couldn't swallow, would be the one man you'd never want to leave your side.

cw: fem!reader, snobbish/holier-than-thou!reader (but she gets better okay!), emo skater boi!choso, college au, enemies (?) to lovers, reader's parents are the source of her bitchiness/aka terrible parents, big bro!choso/lil bro!yuji, kissing, slight angst, love confessions, smut (good ol oral w fem receiving, fingering, no condom...), srry if I miss any! MDNI!

wc: 16k+

an: thank you for 100+ followers! I forgot to announce it when I posted my reiner fic a few weeks ago.... but anyway! okay this is super long and I was considering breaking into two parts but yall are real champs and can def read 16k words lmfao (if not, just yknow like it and finish reading it later). i've got the hots for most of the jjk men and I am OBSESSED with emo goth boy!choso so here you go! title inspo comes from this PHENOMENAL song! enjoy xo

How does one make the most popular and loved girl on campus turn her bright-white, toothy smile upside down into a grimace of pure malice? Pair her up with the loner, emo, goth boy of course!

It was your sophomore year of college which meant getting rid of the same ol' prerequisites everyone and their mother must take during their undergrad. You flew by those classes with phenomenal grades, best of the best, one of the top of your class—and that was a ton of students to compare yourself to. After all, you came from a legacy, a bloodline who (all before you) attended the same university. Hell, there was a hall named after your clan. You were that person. Everyone wanted you or to be you. And you held your head high with the upmost confidence knowing this.

Except there was that one guy... the only person who knew how to get on every single one of your nerves, under your smooth and well maintained skin—Choso Kamo. If anyone else were watching from the outside in, they'd say the man did nothing wrong other than exist and breathe the same air as you, but somehow that irked you.

Everything about him irked you.

From the baggy, dark clothes he wore—shirts two sizes too big and jeans so loose with tears you weren't sure if he did them himself or if it was the style—to the dumb tape (tattoo? you weren't sure) across his nose. The endless amounts of piercings on his ears, septum, and (yes, you somehow managed to notice) his tongue. The god awful tattoos that peeked out from the loose sleeves of his tees when he wasn't wearing a jacket... to the chipped black nail polish on his fingernails and the many odd hairdos he did with his long hair.

Yeah, everything about him rubbed you the wrong way. Especially when he felt the need to skateboard everywhere he went on campus and nearly crashing into you multiple times.

It didn't help that he hung out with two other wackos—one being a pot head who had crackhead energy and the other always wearing the creepiest of grins and smirks as if he were plotting murders in his head.

God, Choso gave you the worst vibes. Of course he'd be assigned to work with you on a project for your Intro to Psychology class. It was a whole get to know someone better assignment that felt so kindergarten. Writing up a report relating to the lessons learned while also becoming friends with someone you didn't know? Hell, that was not going to be you.

You squirmed in your seat at the announcement, rubbing your forehead and sighing. Almost begging Professor Yaga to switch you with anyone... absolutely anyone.

"Don't worry so much," Utahime said as she poked your arm gently.

"I don't get why you're so bothered by his existence," Yuki laughed from behind you, tugging at your hair that sat almost perfectly down your back. "He's kinda hot with that emo vibe he gives off."

"Oh, god," Mei Mei rolled her eyes as she sat on the opposite side of you. "You have such poor taste in men. Bet he has no money."

"Mei Mei," Utahime sighed. "I can switch with you, I've got that knucklehead Satoru as my partner," she nudged her head back in the direction of where the man sat—nearly surrounded by girls fawning over him not so discreetly in the middle of a lecture. You looked over and scrunched up your nose. Wasn't like you had anything against him, actually, he was pretty intelligent and was at your level... he just was a bit too chaotic and always had a flock of girls following him around. It was quite annoying.

"It's fine," you huffed, nearly sinking into your seat before you straightened your back. "Yaga wouldn't allow it anyway. He's stubborn. I'll just... have to... get through it."

"Atta girl," Yuki patted your head as she leaned her chin on her other hand. "And while you're at it, give me his number. I'll gladly snatch him out of your hands once it's all over."

"Doubt I'll be getting anything out of him besides what's needed for the project," you shook your head as you shut your eyes, momentarily meditating to embrace what was to come. Opening your eyes and peeking over your shoulder to spot the man you were paired with, perched in the corner of the auditorium with his focus elsewhere, you cringed. He looked unbothered, completely uninterested and deadpan. He was slouched back in his seat, pen bobbing in between his fingers as his other arm draped over the empty seat beside him. It was then you noticed one of the two delinquents he hung out with was missing, leaving him alone with a talkative Mahito that had been bothering some poor kid beside him about god knows what. Just as you were about to look away, Choso's eyes shifted to meet yours, expression still barren, earning an eye roll from you before you turned your focus back ahead.

"Remember, this will count as 50% of your grade as the remaining 50% depends on how well you do on your exams and attendance. Don't miss class like a certain Getō did," Yaga spoke up. "Class dismissed."

"You know what I want to know?" Yuki started as your group of friends began gathering their things. "Why is it that Suguru and Mahito thought it was a good idea to get stitches as tattoos? Maybe that's what Choso is hiding under the nose tape."

"I thought they drew it on themselves?" Utahime furrowed her eyebrows.

"From what I've heard, they both lost a bet to Choso and had to get those god awful tattoos," Mei Mei spoke as she brushed some of her hair over her shoulder.

You, however, were in your own world. Their conversation went in one ear and out the other as you constantly found yourself stealing glimpses of Choso, annoyance clear in your expression. Anyone but him, really... Why did you have to be paired with him? You probably would've taken Suguru instead if he hadn't skipped. He used to be somewhat normal from what you remember. Back when he was best friends with Shoko and Satoru. You weren't sure what happened there but, to be fair, you didn't care much. Satoru was in his own world, enjoying the constant ego boosts and Shoko hung out with the medical students. You supposed they all went their separate ways.

Just as you were deep in thought, not realizing where you were staring or what you were doing, a masculine, monotone voice startled you. "If you're so intrigued, just take a picture of me."

Blinking a few times before gasping, you looked over to see Choso had been a few steps higher than you, leaning in to speak before walking past you with an indifferent expression on his face. As if he didn't just insult you, making you seem like you were interested in him. "As if!" You huffed, earning a few looks from your girlfriends. "It'd break my poor camera."

"Good one!" A sudden laugh made you jump again in your spot as Mahito patted your head before following Choso.

Swatting him away before running your fingers through your hair, you glared at the two who walked across the auditorium, towards the exit. "Jerks..." you mumbled before snatching your bag and lifting up your chin.

"They really get under your skin, huh?" Yuki pointed out.

"They're beneath me, that's all." With a wave of your hand and a flip your hair, you held yourself high and mighty before exiting the class. Yeah, you were prissy and a bit obnoxious but, hey, that's what everyone loved about you. And their opinions mattered the most... right?

Choso never understood your hatred towards him. Actually, he didn't seem to care. Plenty of people hated him for whatever pathetic, judgmental reasons—and you probably the same—but there was something different about you. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but it definitely felt like you were hiding something from him. From everyone.

In all honesty, you had him intrigued. What was it about you that was sounding sirens in his head? You dressed like you were trying to be Elle Woods, in pinks and pastels. You did your hair so neat and perfect—nothing like his chaotic nest. You always held your head high, wore this sweet perfume that was near nauseating. You drove a car he definitely couldn't afford. He was sure you were a spoiled brat of some rich entrepreneur—but he couldn't say you didn't deserve your class spot. Truly, you were intelligent; bright in all ways possible. That, he'd give you credit for. However, your personality? That way of being, so prim and posh? Something wasn't right. As if you were forced to be this way with all the eyes on you.

And maybe that's why he was so "excited" to be your partner for this assignment. He was going to figure it out, what it was that was hidden behind the makeup and hair pins, amongst those designer outfits and manicured nails. Who you truly were, deep inside.

It also didn't help that one day when he was skateboarding around campus to get from point A to point B, he so happened to pass by your car where you were sort of blasting nu metal from an artist he vaguely recognized. All alone, singing—practically screaming—in a secluded parking lot where you believed no one would see you.

Yeah, you definitely were hiding something from everyone.

Choso departed from Mahito after telling him he was going to stay behind to plan meet ups with you—which, in turn, got some vulgar remark from Mahito. The man with a twisted grin saying how you really needed a good lay and that he hoped Choso would be that. Choso, who was very used to Mahito's unfiltered mouth, didn't even bat an eyelash, just dismissed his friend and leaned against a wall.

"Mei Mei and I gotta split, we have to meet up with Shoko," Utahime spoke as you and your group piled out of the auditorium.

"And I've gotta go tutor Todo!" Yuki waved as she turned the opposite way, leaving you on your own. You didn't mind, wasn't like you didn't have a friend—or at least an acquaintance—in every corner. Actually, you were more than likely going to call up Kiyotaka to see if he wanted to meet you in the library for your weekly study sessions as you both were taking an economics class.

However, that thought went out the door when your focus landed on your beloved goth. In all his emo glory, leaning against a wall with one door propped up against it, you couldn't help but eye him from head to toe. Now that he was standing, you could truly see how big his shirt was on him and how much he really loved the color black. You were amazed he wasn't wearing black lipstick to top it all off. Maybe that was crossing the line for him. Who knows.

Realizing you were staring for much too long—and probably blocking the doorway—you sighed and approached him. "Let's get this over with."

Lifting his eyes from his phone as he scrolled through his socials, meeting your own—disinterested—pair, Choso stood straight with a huff before speaking, "it won't take us one hour to complete this assignment. We have weeks worth of work to do."

"So?" You then crossed your arms.

"So... miss top of her class, you can't half-ass this work. No matter how much you hate me," he said with tired eyes—a look he always carried. You wondered if he ever slept. He wondered if you still had your little heavy metal sessions.

The two of you stared at one another for longer than you should've. You let out a small scoff before rolling your eyes, "whatever. We can meet up for an hour daily. I think that'll be my limit for how long I can endure your demonic aura."

Eyeing you as you had turned your head to the side stubbornly, a small excuse of a laugh left his lips, "I'm not into satanism. Don't worry, Barbie doll, I'm not going to sacrifice you to some nonexistent deity."

Twitching at the nickname he gave you, you sighed and straightened your posture. He knew how to irk you. "Sure, whatever. Then why do you wear upside down crosses?"

"It's for the aesthetic, obviously," he said as if you should've known that. "Same reason why you love to wear those big pearls on your ears, or that scarf with that plaid pattern. Or even those red bottom heels," Choso listed as you found your cheeks heating up. Was he keeping tabs on you? Was he paying the much attention to what you wore? And why were you blushing?! "You call that fashion, I call this fashion," he said as he flicked the earring that dangled from his right ear.

"Creep," you mumbled before reaching into your bag and pulling out a small journal. Removing the pen from it and writing down something, you tore the piece and folded it neatly before handing it over to him, dropping it into his palm as he extended his hand out. "That's my address. Don't go about stalking me and seeing what I'm wearing. Be there at 8PM, no later. We can do this every Monday through Thursday for one hour. Don't bother me from outside that one hour. Got it?"

Looking at his palm, then down at you, he slid it in his back pocket before answering, "sure."

"Perfect! Now you can leave me be. And stop noting what I wear, loser," you stuck your tongue out before walking away. Yeah, you were mature. It just didn't help that you needed to get out of there, and fast. For some reason, your face felt hot and your heart was racing. You were afraid you were going to start stuttering if you stayed any longer. Why was he so nonchalant? And, damn, why did he smell so good?! You weren't even trying to sniff him, but his cologne knocked right into you. Also, why the hell was he so observant of what you wore? He had no right!

As if.... you weren't the same towards him.

He didn't need to know that.

8PM on the dot. You heard someone knock on your front door, knowing very well it was Choso. You were home alone that evening—as you almost always were as your parents were too busy to focus on their only daughter. You were in the midst of tidying your room—making sure nothing too secretive was lying around—before you made your way downstairs, and to your front door. Sucking in a deep breath and forcing your best scowl, you opened the front door.

In all honesty, the hours that lead up to Choso's arrival were nerve wracking. You weren't sure why. Nothing out of this world, wasn't like he was anyone impressive. Yet you put more effort into your look than you should've for just lounging in your home and working on an assignment. You told yourself it was just how you were. You always looked your best, even at home. Even when you were in those little, pink shorts and an oversized sweater with a cartoon character on it that made you look smaller. It was the first thing Choso noticed when you opened the door—besides the fact that you had subtle makeup and your hair in two little space buns... reminding him too much of his own hairdo.

But, he knew better than to point that out. You'd chew him out.

"Still living with your parents?" He pointed out, though you were sure it wasn't a question and rather a statement.

"So?" You narrowed your eyes. "No point in living in the dorms when I live close to the university. Not everyone lives in a shoe box for an apartment," you crossed your arms as Choso simply blinked.

"And you know where I live because—"

"I— I don't!" You blushed. "I just assumed!"

A subtle grin on his lips as he stood at your door, one hand gripped on the strap of his backpack while the other was deep in the pocket of his grey sweats. So he did own a color outside of black? "And I'm the creepy one."

Snapping your eyes up from the spot they had landed on—definitely not the outline of his dick in his sweats—you hissed, "shut up."

"Can I come in? Or are we going to just stay here and banter?" He asked as you sucked in a deep breath, taking a step to a side and gesturing for him to enter. Without hesitation, he did so. Eyeing his surroundings. The formal living room with modern couches and decor, a dining table and several art pieces hung about. A few framed family photos spotted on the coffee table. It was quite... minimal for a home with a family. Much too clean and pristine. He was starting to understand why you were the way you are.

"Do you want... water or something," you grumbled as you offered, noticing how Choso was curiously studying your home.

"Nah, I've got my own bottle in my bag," he said before spotting your staircase. "Where're we gonna do this?"

Sucking in a deep breath, you pointed upward, "my room." Leading the way towards and up the stairs, you stopped on the second step before turning to look down at him, "don't even think about stealing anything or taking photos. Got it?" You pointed at him as he lifted his hands up in defense before you hummed, turning and treading up the steps.

"I was thinking about stealing one of your panties, but now that you say that—"

"Ugh, gross!" You exclaimed, shaking your head as your steps became stomps. "I wouldn't even doubt it..."

Slightly grinning to himself as he followed you, Choso came to a stop at your doorway as he eyed your bedroom. It was exactly as he expected. Pink... so pink... pink and white with cute things everywhere. Yet, so organized and cleaned up. Like... an unused children's room. This can't possibly be your happy space. So many plushies stuffed on your bed? Sanrio decorations on your desk? A vanity filled with endless makeup products? Well, maybe it was your happy spot. But... it felt like this was some experimental room you were tossed in and put under supervision to see if they could make you the perfect girl.

There had to be something hidden amongst all the bubblegum decor. Something that hinted to the real you.

"Do I sit in all those or in that..." Choso pointed at your bed covered in plush toys or your pink bean bag that sat on a white, fluffy rug. God, how could you even breathe in here?

"You can sit here," You corrected, pulling out your desk chair before you sat in the sea of teddy bears, somehow not disrupting the layout. As if there was a spot specifically for you. "You've got one hour, emo boy."

"Right," Choso sighed as he settled into the white chair.

Lifting your eyes from your laptop as you had flipped it open, you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. He stuck out of your room like a sore thumb. So out of place... Like a black rose amongst a bed of pink. For a moment, you thought it was cute. For a moment. "I'll start with the introductions," you spoke up after nearly clearing your throat from words that weren't uttered but thought out.

Reaching into his bag and pulling out his laptop, Choso looked at you for a moment to see you focused on your screen before his eyes darted around your room, looking for anything off. Your mattress, pillow... maybe behind your dresser or underneath your bean bag. Something hidden. You must've kept a secret collection of records somewhere. Maybe even black band tees. "Sure..."

You started asking the basic introductory questions: full name, where you were born, how old are you, what are you studying... so on and so forth. It was child's play. You wondered how Professor Yaga made this assignment so lengthy when it could've been completed with twenty questions or less. You assumed it was something psychological, suited for the class.

Typing out Choso's answers, he then started asking you the same ones, you answering without missing a beat—or making eye contact. "Lastly, what's your favorite heavy metal band?"

Feeling your lips part, you instantly sealed them as you lifted your focus and shot him a look. "That so is not a question!" You exclaimed, glaring.

Looking at you with a subtle smirk, Choso shrugged, "last one is a freebie for the introduction. You asked me why I am so emo, so I thought it was fair I asked you something I was curious about."

"First of all, you actually are emo. Second of all, I do not listen to heavy metal music. I have no idea where the hell you pulled that out of," you narrowed your eyes, but Choso only leaned back in the desk chair and sighed. "What?"

"Your little head banging sessions in your car beg to differ," Choso said as you blinked, eyes gradually widening as you instantly tossed your laptop onto your stuffed toys before standing to your feet. "The kitten has claws—"

"I don't know what you are talking about but you need to stop stalking me," you pointed your finger at him.

Lifting his hands up in defense, he sighed, "I don't know why you're being so defensive. If it isn't true, if I'm lying, you wouldn't care. But I'm not lying, I know what I saw. You haven't even denied it."

Clenching your jaw as your glared down at him, you pushed your hand against his laptop and shut it as your other hand settled on your hip, "sure, I listen to alternative music that isn't up to my quote unquote standards when no one is around. Sure, I love to scream and bang my head to release my inner frustrations through heavy metal. However, do you think anyone would believe you if you started spreading word? No, they wouldn't, because that's unlike me. I wouldn't do any of that," you said with your eyes still squinted. "Nice try, Choso."

"I have no intentions on spreading rumors—sorry, facts—about you. Actually, with me being the only one to know this, it means I was right about you," he said, looking up at you with that bored expression he so gracefully wore.

Arching an eyebrow, you leaned towards him, "right about what?"

A small smile appeared on his lips as he sat up, looking you in the eyes, "that you aren't who you seem. That all of this," he gestured to your room, "is nothing but a cloaking device forced upon you to hide who you really are. You're just a poor princess trapped in her tower of pink lies. Tell me I'm wrong."

Eyeing him as you kept your focus locked on his, taking in deep breaths, you nearly bit your tongue off. "You are so wrong."

Choso was not wrong. Nowhere near wrong. Actually, he was burning hot with his assumptions and theories and intuition. You hated that. Yet, you couldn't avoid him. He was your partner and you weren't going to fail an introductory class. Damn that man.

You continued your daily meet ups at your place—sometimes at the library if you knew your parents would be home. Those happened seldom, and Choso didn't even have to ask to know why there was a change in environment. He was well aware your parents would despise him if they saw him. Now a week into your project, Choso was slowly learning more about you, more than what you put out. He was well aware that you had both beauty and brains, he wasn't going to lie, he had eyes. However, he started noticing the little cracks. The holes in you that were created by your own pillars—your parents. They wanted you you be the perfect little girl for them. Since you were the only child, they were so fixated on you and your achievements.

Probably why you had all those trophies from various competitions on a shelf in your home.

You didn't enjoy it, you didn't have to tell him for him to know. He saw it in your eyes whenever you lied and said you had fun competing as a child. (In reality, he was sure you wanted an actual fun childhood.)

It was obvious why you were the way you were. They were carving you out, shaping you the way they wanted. Not how you did.

And Choso was sure, if he pushed hard enough, he'd get you to tip over and break into a million pieces. Pull yourself back together, and bring out a better you. The real you.

Of course, that is once he gets on your good side.

"So how are things with you two?" Yuki asked as the two of you walked along the campus, leaving one of your shared classes. "I mean, you've hardly complained about him since we started working on the project."

Sighing as you held your journal against your chest, you looked off to the side. "He's— He's... there..."

"There?" She asked with a small snicker. "What the hell does that mean? Hey! You still haven't given me his number!"

"I'll give it to you later," you mumbled, looking up at the sky now, eyeing the scattered clouds and the distant birds flying below them.

"Later? Oh! So you did manage to get it, huh?" Yuki grinned, nudging you with her elbow.

"Yeah, a few meet ups in, solely to let him know where to meet up. Can't have my parents seeing him," you said, thinking about the reaction your parents would have if they saw Choso in your room. Oh, how they'd panic. Your father would lose his mind and your mother would—without a doubt—pass out. The thought made you chuckle.

"What's so funny?" The blonde beside you asked, eyeing you with an arched eyebrow.

"Nothing..." you hummed.

"Hmm..." studying you, Yuki then crossed her arms. "So, you've got a crush on him—"

Coming to a complete stop, you turned and eyed her, "excuse me? Repeat yourself? Deranged witch!"

"There she is!" Yuki pointed with a laugh. "For a second I thought I lost you there! You weren't being so bitchy—"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, turning back in your spot, continuing to walk. "I do not have a crush on him, where the hell did you get that from?"

"You haven't complained about him once and, well, you are his partner still... you haven't managed to convince Yaga to switch you. And don't give me the whole he won't bullshit, we all know everyone in the faculty and staff adore you. So, what's up? What's got you so... chill? You aren't even fuming like you normally would. C'mon, talk to me. You know I'm the best person to confess to," Yuki grinned with a flip of her hair.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "there's nothing. We just meet up for an hour, do our work, then go our separate ways."

"So the assignment isn't bringing you two close? I know for a fact it's got 'hime and 'toru fu—"

Lifting a finger, you shook your head, "don't you finish that sentence. Please." Watching her lift her hands up in defense, you shook your head. "He's a hard man to open up. His responses are minimal and almost cryptic. He doesn't speak much when it comes to himself, but he seems very interested in me. Like he wants to unravel me. Creepy in my opinion but... whatever. If it's getting me an A, I'll do whatever."

Watching you wave your hand dismissively, Yuki tilted her head with a small grin, "unravel you, huh? Like... get in your panties—"

A gasp left you as your eyes widened. "Yuki, shut up!" You snapped. "No, it's like— he just wants to get to the deepest bits about me! Not that!"

"Deepest bits, like, having his thick, long, di—"

"I'm walking away now!" You said as you picked up your pace, only to hear her laughing. Yuki knew how to get under your skin, but not in a spiteful way. She just liked to bug you, your reactions were golden, so she could only imagine how you were when you were with Choso.

In all honesty, as much as she loved pestering you for his number, she couldn't help but think... you two would actually be quite the power couple. There was something about opposites attracting that made her swoon, especially when it was her little, preppy, best friend and a very handsome, depressed looking, goth boy. The image of you two being together made her smirk. She needed to do something about it.

Walking towards your car as you let out a huff of annoyance, you pulled your keys out from your bag and eyed your surroundings for a moment. Secluded. Just like how you liked it. This was why you always parked here, towards the back of the campus near the history wing. Not many people ventured this way, it was the perfect hideaway.

Unlocking your car and slipping inside, you set the keys in the ignition and plugged your phone in. Taking in a deep breath as you settled in your seat after tapping your favorite playlist, you started bobbing your head to the music. Then, before you knew it—as the rhythm was flowing through you—you started singing (screaming?) along. You were so into it that you nearly forgot your surroundings. That is until your eyes landed on your favorite loner.

There, standing across the way on the sidewalk with one hand clutched onto his skateboard and the other holding his cigarette in between his index and thumb, was Choso. Watching you with a smirk on his lips. When did he get there? How did you not notice? You weren't even a song into the playlist!

With a huff, you lowered the volume and shoved your door open, not bothering to shut it as you stomped over towards the stoic man. He simply stood there, taking a drag and puffing air as you came up, practically barring your fangs. It was cute to him, you looked like an angry kitten. "You!" You pointed as Choso simply took another drag.

"Yeah," he breathed, watching as you stopped before him, just before the curb as he stood towering before you with the additional inches from the sidewalk.

"Where— Where the hell did you come from?!" You shrieked.

"My mother's—"

"No! I didn't see anyone!" You whined as Choso sighed, taking one last inhale from his cigarette before putting it out.

"What? Bummed someone knows you have little therapeutic head banging sessions?" He slightly tilted his head. It was then you noticed his hair was down, in all it's disarray glory, sat beneath a dark grey bucket hat. He wore a baggy tee again, a plain black one and matching sweats. His feet covered in beat up converse this time around. You were so deep in your studying—gawking—that Choso cleared his throat.

Snapping out of it, you looked up at him again and frowned, arms folded as you stomped a foot pathetically, "what is it that you want from me?!"

"Nothing, really," he shrugged. "Just that you quit being someone you're not. Y'know, for someone who judges others for being their true selves."

Fighting the urge to gasp, you bit your tongue, instead, grabbing his hand and yanking him. You pulled him along to your car, opening the passenger door and nearly shoving him inside. Shutting the door behind you, you then rounded the car and took the drivers seat. With the sound of the car locking, you turned up the volume again and sat there with your arms crossed. Your focus was straight ahead as Choso took a minute to take in his surroundings. Your car—a cute, white, Mini Cooper—smelled like spring days. Nothing out of place, cleaned as if you've never used the car before. You had a little dancing flower on your dashboard and a pink ribbon wrapped around your mirror into a bow. Yet, the music emitting from within did not match the interior.

Eyeing the screen before him, he then leaned back into the seat, recognizing the artist as one he listened to religiously. "So, are you kidnapping me?" He asked, turning his attention ahead, eyes aimlessly gazing around his surroundings.

"No," was all you said before raising the volume up. "I know you won't say anything, no one would believe you anyway." Feeling his eyes on you, you bit your inner cheek before mumbling, "and it's nice... having someone to enjoy this with..."

Seeing the way you stubbornly kept your focus anywhere but on him, Choso couldn't help but tease you, "I think you're finally getting soft on me—"

"Don't get used to it!" You snapped, now looking and pointing at him.

Lifting his hands up in defense, Choso looked ahead once again with a small sigh, "is it okay if you go over my place tonight?"

Blinking, your eyebrows narrowed, "why?"

"It's personal," was all he said, voice lower than before. You couldn't help but frown. Personal? "I can't leave home tonight."

"Oh... Kay..." You trailed, studying him and seeing how his demeanor changed, no longer in a teasing mood. "Fine. Since you were such nice company, I'll allow it."

Rolling his eyes, Choso couldn't help but feel a twitch of a smile grow on his lips, "whatever. I'll text you my address."

"Apartment 310..." you sighed, eyeing the grey door before you decorated in nothing but a peephole and... an odd decoration hanging from the door knob. Something resembling that of a child's creation in arts and craft class. You'd have to ask Choso about that—

The sound of heavy, rapid footsteps and excited yelling was heard from the other side of the door, causing you to lean in with furrowed brows. Did he have company? Or was that a really loud TV? Knocking on the door as you had leaned back and stood straight, you heard the heavy footsteps once again—except this time approaching. Seeing the door swing open, your eyes widened.

"What—" seeing no one before you, no sign of Choso, you tilted your head. "Who—" lowering your focus, a pair of big, bright eyes gazed up at you. A little boy, easily 4 or 5, stood before you with a look of awe. His pink hair was messy—ruffled in different directions, as he wore a hoodie with tiger ears and matching shorts plus white socks covering his tiny feet. "Oh... this must be the wrong place... I'm sorry—"

"Yuji! What did I tell you about opening the door?!" Hearing a familiar voice call out—much more intense than you had ever heard of before, you turned your head to see Choso approaching. However, the sounds of whimpering caught your attention as the little boy—which you now learned was named Yuji—was tearing up. "Oh no... I'm sorry, I didn't—" kneeling before the little boy and lifting him in his arms, Choso rubbed his tiny back. "I didn't mean to scare you. But, please, listen to me, okay?"

"O— kay..." the little boy sniffled.

Watching this all unfold, eyes wide in shock, you shook your head and swallowed. What... just happened? Who was this little boy? And why did the sight before you—Choso being so gentle—make your insides twist? "Umm..."

"Come in," Choso nudged his head for you to follow. You, closing the door behind you, did so. He lead you to the living room (which was really just a couple of steps ahead of you) as he sat on the couch, settling the little boy down and wiping his tears as you slowly sat besides the older man. "You can play for thirty more minutes but you must clean and put away all your toys and get ready for bed after, okay?"

"Mhm!" Yuji nodded his head in excitement, only to turn his head to look at you, gasping as he nearly had forgotten you were there. "Choco, is this your girlfriend?" The little boy asked, suddenly all giddy, causing your heart to skip a beat as your eyes widened. Girlfriend?!

"No, she's just a classmate," Choso clarified as you frowned, slightly offended for whatever insane reason. As if you should be insulted by that! Why did he answer so casually? How was he always so calm?! "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

"Okay!" The little boy exclaimed, taking quick steps to stand before you, "hi! My name is Yuji Itadori!"

Blinking a few times, looking down at his tiny hand as it was extended towards you, you took it in your own and gently shook it. "Hi, Yuji... I'm—"

"I know who you are!" He gasped, saying your name as he pointed at you while jumping. "Yeah! That's you! Choco talks—"

"Okay, Jiji, that's enough, go play with your toys," Choso shooed him as Yuji frowned, then gave the older man a small glare before stomping away, mumbling to himself.

Letting out a small breath, you looked at Choso, "you're a young father... he must look a lot like his mom."

"I'm not his dad," Choso clarified, shaking his head as he was covering his mouth, still processing what Yuji was about to say. With a deep breath, he then leaned back against the couch, "his my little brother. Half brother, actually, but... yeah. I'm his legal guardian."

Eyeing Choso as he had yet to look at you, almost as if he were deep in thought, you simply nodded. This must've been what was personal. His little brother, Yuji. "Oh... I see." Not wanting to press, you opened your bag and pulled out your laptop to get ready for your hour session. Just before you did, you gave him one look, realizing he was still dressed similarly to earlier—hair down, a t-shirt and sweats, but now no sneakers... only socks. Turning back to your laptop, Choso did the same as he lifted his from the coffee table before him, getting straight to work.

Thirty minutes had passed and Choso excused himself for a moment, mentioning how he had to make sure Yuji put himself to bed. As he did that, you continued your work, even if your mind was wandering off to uncharted waters. Thoughts of Choso... Choso being a fatherly figure. Again, it was stirring something unwanted within you. You had to force yourself to think about something else.

That is, of course, until a shadow casted upon you. You looked up, behind you to see Choso looking down at you. A small yelp left you as you gulped, quickly turning your attention away as you noticed Yuji standing beside him—hand in hand with Choso. "Oh?" You blinked as the little boy smiled. You realized he was now dressed in his pajama—a cute, dark blue set, with little animals scattered around it.

"I wanted to say good night! So... good night!" He waved with his free hand.

"Good night, Yuji. It was nice meeting you," you smiled back at him before Choso guided him back to his room. The grin on your lips wouldn't fade away, you had to admit, Yuji was adorable.

The cutest kid you've ever met. Hearing distant mumbling, your curiosity got the best of you as you settled your laptop onto the coffee table and stood up. Quietly walking to the small hallway where the two bedrooms and bathroom sat, you carefully peeked over. Choso was kneeling before Yuji's bed, reading a bedtime story. You could see the little boy was fighting sleep as his eyes fluttered closed. Choso noticed this, too. Standing up and making sure all of the plush toys were surrounding him—the way his little brother liked it—Choso leaned in and kissed his forehead good night before gently caressing his hair.

Your heart was racing. You hadn't noticed it. Forcing yourself to look away and walk back to your spot on the couch, you found yourself nibbling on your bottom lip. Trying to focus on your work, you couldn't seem to get passed the single word you typed out. The images of Choso caressing Yuji's back, wiping his tears, holding his hand... and tucking him in... it made you feel so uneasy. It made your heart race. It made your face heat up.

"Okay, he's asleep," Choso said, snapping out of your thoughts as you clinched. He noticed but stayed silent.

"I can keep meeting you here if you need me to," you said, eyes practically glued to your screen, refusing to look up at him. You knew if you looked him in the eye you'd do something foolish. Probably even blush.

"I normally have a babysitter if he doesn't have his evening karate class... but money has been getting tight," he confessed, causing you to look up at him as he reached for his laptop and sat back down. You couldn't help but feel sympathetic. As much as you weren't fond of Choso—for petty reasons—you could only imagine how much he was struggling to raise a little boy on his own.

"It's okay, you don't need to explain," you said, "I like Yuji. He seems like a really sweet boy."

Looking at you, Choso wore a subtle smirk, "he's my bloodline."

"Whatever," you playfully rolled your eyes. "He's innocent and I like his hair."

"You don't like mine?" Choso slightly tilted his head, letting the strands fall to a side. You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head. "No? Wow. Is it because it's not pink?"

Letting out a small laugh, you reached over to touch his hair without thinking. You wrapped some around your finger, twirling it before letting it fall loose, "it's not so bad..."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Eyeing one another as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, you felt your heart begin to race the more you looked at him. Shyly looking away, you cleared your throat. "Let's finish today's work."

Studying you and the subtle blush that tinted your cheeks, Choso nodded. "Yeah."

It was becoming more and more apparent to Choso how much you were softening up to him. Maybe it was because you saw a different side of him after your first visit to his place... or maybe you just wanted to be seen as a saint in little Yuji's eyes. Whatever it may be, you weren't so easily agitated anymore. It caught him off guard when you started giving him small smiles—in which his would subtly reciprocate. He had to test his waters, of course. Maybe you were smiling to someone behind him? But no, it was towards him.

Then, you started inviting him to your little in-car-concerts. He would recommend you music that you'd soon find yourself playing on repeat while alone or in the comfort of your earphones. Other times, you'd recommend him songs in which he'd learn the lyrics to almost the very next day—Choso wouldn't admit it to you, but he kind of wanted you to be impressed. And, you were.

Choso also noticed just how attached his little brother grew to you. Every visit you made for your hourly sessions, you found yourself coming earlier and earlier to spend time with the little boy. He had always asked you to play with him or to watch his favorite movie, but you had told him you couldn't while working on your project, so, of course—in his infinite wisdom—little Yuji suggested you come earlier. And you did.

There was even a routine you started with the duo: helping out Yuji to sleep, even if Choso insisted You didn't have to (you had to, solely because Yuji begged you to... and you did want to, too).

You were... changing, to say the least; and Choso wouldn't complain nor want to stop it.

However, your parents began to notice.

It wasn't as subtle as you thought. You were well aware of the change in demeanor you had. You were nicer to those you once were quite bitchy to. You weren't so stuck up nor snobbish—as Yuki liked to point out—and you were actually associating yourself with others you once saw beneath you.

This... wasn't a good look, at least, not in your parents eyes.

"Why are you always sneaking away?" Your mother had asked. An odd question coming from her when she nor your father were never around. "Are you secretly dating someone?!"

Growing wide eyed, you shook your head. "No? I have an assignment I've been working on with a partner. We meet up together."

"Uh huh," your mother crossed her arms. "Don't think we don't notice these changes," she gestured at your figure. "Your attitude is becoming much too laid back and care free. You aren't on time like you used to be and you are becoming careless with your fashion! Are you on drugs?!"

"Mom! Of course not?!" You shrieked, narrowing your eyebrows at her accusation. "I'm not changing, I'm still me!"

"Yeah? Is that so?" Walking around the kitchen counter and pulling out something, your eyes widened at the sight of your (what once was hidden) vinyl records. "Satanic music!" She waved them as she approached you again, then handing them to your father who stood beside her. "I will not tolerate this!"

Watching your father snap the records, a sharp gasp left your lips as your eyes instantly welled up in tears. "That— That isn't satanic music! That's just music! It was a gift! How could you?!" You cried out as your body trembled at the broken pieces on the ground. A gift Choso had given you during one of your sessions after remembering you had a record player.

"You think we don't know what the hell this is?!" Your father finally spoke, shaking the two pieces in his hands. "You, sneaking around behind our backs?! You probably have been smoking pot in your room—"

"I'm not! It's just music, for heaven's sake—"

"Don't you raise your voice!" Your father snapped as you hiccuped.

"You— You two are being ridiculous! Over music?! You broke a gift someone important gave to me!" You exclaimed, chest heaving as the anger and rage boiled up within you. You were blinded that you hadn't realize the confession you made, too focused on the fact that they had destroyed the practically brand new vinyl you were afraid to touch because you wanted to preserve them. Yet, that went out the window. "All because you're too scared your perfect daughter isn't all about unicorns and rainbows anymore because she's a damn adult! I'm sick and tired of being someone you want me to be that I'm not!"

Hearing them scoff your name, you shook your head and turned to grab your keys, ignoring their yells as you stormed off. You didn't look back, slamming the main door of your home behind you before rushing into your car and speeding off. Your vision was blurred from the endless tears as you continuously wiped them away. You didn't seem to care about speed limits or being pulled over, you just wanted to get away as far as possible.

And as far as possible was at Choso's.

You found yourself crying into his chest the moment he had opened the door. He lead you to his couch—that you grew familiar with—and settled you there before coming back with tissues and water. He wiped your tears as you explained what happened, whimpering along the way as Choso frowned for you. The more he learned about you, the more he knew you were just a bystander of your parents ruthless grip. He was sure the person you had been becoming around him was the woman inside begging for freedom... and to see you cry like this? Sobbing over the gifts he gave you and snap at your parents? His heart was aching.

At some point, a worried Yuji came waddling in with a plush toy—one you learned to be his favorite—as he handed it to you for comfort. Claiming it made him feel better when he was sad. You thanked the little boy as you caressed his cheek before hugging his tiny body. He couldn't help but stay lingering, sitting beside you in hopes you'd feel better.

"You're welcome to come over whenever you want," Choso offered. "Even if I'm not here, I have a spare key hidden under my front mat. Not wise, I know, but things happen."

Smiling at him as you sipped at the water Choso had handed you, you shook your head, "I couldn't... I don't want to intrude."

"Believe me, you're not," he said, looking you in the eyes with a worried expression. "I rather you feel safe and wanted here than anxious and afraid in what's supposed to be your own home."

Looking down for a moment at the stuffed Spider-Man in your hold, you then looked over at Choso, "thank you."

"You can sleep over!" Yuji exclaimed as he bounced in his spot. "We can watch a movie and—and eat popcorn!"

Looking over at the eager, little boy, you let out a soft chuckle, "okay, Jiji." Seeing him clap in excitement, he pushed himself off the couch and rushed away to his room.

"I'll get you something to sleep in, and you can stay in my bed," Choso stood as you turned your attention to him, watching him walk away. Before you could protest, he waved his hand, "don't worry about it. I've fallen asleep plenty on the couch with Yuji."

Choso's clothes were even baggier on you. The shirt was a dress and the sweats he offered hung so loosely you had to tie them up with a spare hair tie. However, you didn't seem to mind. They were comfortable and they... smelled like him. You hated to admit it, but the times you've got whiffs of him, you indulged. He smelled so good, like fresh laundry. There was a hint of spice, maybe the subtle cologne he used or the possibility that he liked his home smelling like the fall. Whatever it was, it filled your senses as you lied on his bed and it... made you feel safe.

After watching a movie with Yuji—which he chose to be Big Hero 6–you retired for the night. Choso gave you brand new toiletries to use as needed as well as clothes, telling you to feel free and use whatever you needed. It made you feel... wanted. You hadn't felt like this in so long. Sure, your friends were wonderful people, but even then you hadn't felt like this. You couldn't quite describe it, really. Besides the feeling of being noticed and needed, even if it was subtle, there was that thing bubbling within you that only Choso ignited.

Turning on your side and seeing the analog alarm clock on his bedside table, you sighed. It was half past midnight and, for some reason, you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was being in someone else's bed. Maybe it was your parent's words. Whatever it was, it had you getting up and wrapping a throw over your body as you aimed for the living room.

Gently nudging Choso as he seemed sound asleep, resting on his back as he took the entire length (and more) of the couch, you frowned. "Choso..." You whispered.

Mumbling and groaning, the sound made you blush as he peeked an eye, "what is it?"

"Sorry... I can't sleep..." you confessed. "Umm... can you... can you come back to bed with me? Maybe having someone there will make me feel at ease..."

Rubbing his eyes as he sat up, Choso grabbed the pillow he slept with and tossed the blanket over the cushions before following you to his room without a word. Maybe it was because he was half asleep, but he so easily slipped into his bed, lifted the sheets for you to join him, and casually spooned you from behind. You were flustered at first—of course! But then you eased into his warmth with a pleasant sigh as you closed your eyes.

Only to open them at the sound of faint whimpering.

Sitting up, you looked around the room, only to see Yuji standing at the foot of the bed—one arm wrapped around his Spider-Man plush as his other had his tiny hand balled into a fist, rubbing his eye. "Yuji?" You quietly called to him. "What's the matter?"

"Nightmare..." he pouts. "Choco let's me sleep with him when I have them..."

"Oh," looking over at Choso and seeing he was dead asleep, you looked back at Yuji. A soft smile graced your lips before you waved a hand for him to join you. "C'mon, the more, the merrier."

Crawling up to you as you helped settle him in between you and Choso, you pulled the quilt over the two of you before petting his hair, telling him to sleep well. That he was safe.

Just like you.

Morning had come and you woke up to both Yuji and Choso gone from the bed. You went to do your (simplified) morning routine as you washed your face and brushed your teeth. Once exiting the room, you were greeted with breakfast—Yuji happily nomming away as Choso looked as if he were about to leave somewhere.

"Morning," you greeted as Yuji patted the seat beside him—in which a full plate of food sat. "Where you headed off to?" Eyeing Choso and seeing he was in a pair of black jeans and a band tee—with his beloved Doc Marten's and hair in its spiked buns—you tilted your head.

"I've got work," he said. You recalled him mentioning he worked at a record shop (see broken vinyls that were once your prized possession from him). "I have to take Yuji to a family friend to babysit—"

"Oh, let me," you offered. "It's the least I could do. Let it be my thank you," you nodded. "I'd have to get some stuff from my place but I can bring him with me. I'm sure Yuji wouldn't mind."

Nodding his head eagerly, Choso looked at his little brother, then you, "alright, I guess that's okay. I'll have to let Nanami know."

"Nanamin will get why!" Yuji waved his tiny hand. "Choco's pretty friend will babysit! She's now Yuji's best friend!"

"What about Megumi and Nobara?" Choso asked as he leaned over Yuji to steal some of his bacon, earning a swat from the little boy.

"They— They are!" He exclaimed. "But now I have an older best friend!"

Smiling at them, you gave Yuji's cheek a gentle pinch, "I'd happily be your best friend."

"Yay!" He clapped before sticking his tongue out at Choso.

"Okay, okay," Choso waved a hand. "I'll go ahead and put his car seat in your car so you have it ready."

"Okay, thanks," you said as you began to eat. You couldn't help but feel excited to spend the day with Yuji... as odd as that sounded. He was an entertaining little boy and he really seemed to love you like his own blood.

"Okay, Yuji," You said as the little boy gawked at the size of your home, calling it a castle. You showed him around the house, even your backyard, before you made your way up to your room. "I'm going to shower and then we can head back to your home, okay?"

"Okay!" Yuji's muffled voice called out as he had now found himself stuffed in the horde of plush toys on your bed. He couldn't help but toss himself in it the moment he saw them all. You didn't mind, whatever made the boy happy.

"Stay there, alright?" You pointed as he rolled over and nodded, only to spot a pink dog. "Yeah, has your color, huh?"

"Same hair!" He pointed at his head, earning a sweet chuckle from you.

"I'll be quick," at that, you closed the door and took a quick shower. You folded up the clothes Choso leant you and reminded yourself to wash them at his place so your parents weren't suspicious if you left them at home.

Changing into a pair of grey leggings and an oversized, white hoodie that had TOKYO written across the chest in varsity letters, you slipped on socks and exited the bathroom. Just as you reached for a pair of sneakers, you noticed Yuji was knocked out on the plushes. Smiling, you slipped the shoes on, grabbed your tote bag that you filled with your things—plus Choso's clothes—then reached for Yuji and held him against you as he rested against your shoulder.

Careful enough to leave your home and shut the door quietly, you put him back into his car seat and buckled him in before you went for the drivers seat and made your way back to Choso's.

That afternoon was quite busy. You finished up your assignments that were due the following week, did some cooking for lunch that you enjoyed with Yuji, played with him and watched movies, then cooked again for dinner. For the most part, Choso's fridge was filled with a lot of children's food. The occasional fruit and vegetable, too. But a lot of kiddie portions. He truly cared for his little brother, it warmed your heart how attentive he was. How responsible and how much of an effort he put into Yuji's life.

After dinner, you took Yuji for a small walk to get some fresh air and enjoy the sunset. You sat at a park bench for a bit and talked about his favorite TV shows and video games before you walked hand in hand back to his home.

Watching some episodes of a TV show you loved as a kid—one Yuji never knew of—the two of you dozed off on the couch. This was what Choso came home to.

His heart raced at the sight, you with Yuji curled up against you as you shared a blanket. A small smile grew on his lips as he took his shoes off and quietly walked over. Carefully lifting up Yuji, ready to put him to bed—as it seems you had already taken care of bathing, brushing his teeth, and changing him into his pajamas—you squirmed awake. "Good evening, princess."

Sighing, you stretched before sitting up. "Hi."

"You can stay again, if you'd like," Choso offered but you shook your head with a gentle smile.

"I should go home... even though my parents don't seem to care as I haven't received a single phone call or text," you sighed, standing up to gather your things before walking to his front door.

Following you, Choso opened the door for you with his free hand as his other kept Yuji against his shoulder. "Like I said before, you have a place to stay here."

Looking up at him as you felt your heart flutter, you smiled again. A silence washed upon you two as you quietly gazed at one another. Tiptoeing, you gave his cheek a sweet, lingering kiss, before settling back, "thank you."

Eyeing you as his focus flickered between your eyes and your lips, Choso felt himself leaning forward, just about ready—

Feeling Yuji squirm, Choso straightened his posture as you blushed, waving goodbye before exiting his apartment. "Yeah... goodnight, princess..."

"...and then... I kissed his cheek. After that, I could've sworn we would've, you know..." you waved your hand, "kissed..."

"Kissed?!" Yuki exclaimed as you shyly nodded, blushing. You had told her everything from your parents wrongfully snapping at you, to you staying with Choso... up until you left the following day. Which had been yesterday. "Why didn't you?!" She gasped as she leaned towards you.

The two of you sat on a bench out in the main, open courtyard, usually doing this after your shared class before moving onto your next one. "I— I don't know... but, either way, I shouldn't..." you sighed, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Why not?" Yuki furrowed her eyebrows.

"Because... it'll never work out. We can't be together..." you trailed before sitting up with wide eyes. "Either way, it's not like I have feelings!"

Narrowing her eyes as she stared at you, Yuki shook her head, "I think you're lying. You wouldn't be this way if you didn't feel anything for him. You've changed, in a good way. You're telling me you stayed in his home, in the same bed... and feel nothing? The fact that you ran to him before thinking of anyone else, like... me?! And then you two almost kiss?! Come on!" She threw her hands up before slumping in her seat. "You've gotta follow your heart, and it's clear what she wants."

Turning your focus away from her, your heart skipped a beat. In the distance, you spotted the man of the hour walking alongside Mahito and Suguru. Swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as he noticed you, you shyly waved with a faint smile as he reciprocated the action.

Grinning at the sight, Yuki nudged your knee with hers, "can't knock it till you try it."

After the incident with your parents, you found yourself showing up at Choso's much earlier than normal. He didn't question, knowing very well you were avoiding your parents, simply welcoming you in (more like Yuji shoving his older brother to a side to hug your legs and shriek your name). You truly have grown to love Yuji more and more after each passing interaction.

You and Choso finished your work earlier than usual, deciding to sit together and watch some TV with Yuji sat in between. Usually, he was playing with his toys or Switch, but he always made time to be with you. Even if he was in the middle of using his brother's phone to FaceTime his two best friends. As you were in the midst of watching comedy reruns, Yuji was in the middle of squealing and laughing, talking loudly as one of his best friends—Nobara—basically met his level of excitement. You had actually met his two best friends a few times after Yuji had them over. You learned that Nobara was like his long lost twin while Megumi was the level headed one of the three. Usually quiet, but every now and then showed his own wave of emotions that almost matched the other two.

"Say hi!" Yuji said as he lifted the phone to your face.

"H— Hi, you two," you waved as you gently pushed the phone back so you could see them properly.

"Hi!" Nobara waved happily, sitting up in her seat and giving you a toothy grin.

"Hello," Megumi shyly waved as you chuckled. Yuji claimed Megumi had a crush on you, but you liked to think he was just timid. (Though, you weren't sure how, when his parents—who you had met that same day you had met him—were the complete opposite of him).

Suddenly with his eyes glued on the TV and practically dismissing his best friends, Yuji pointed, "a festival!" He said, watching the ad that appeared on the screen. "Choco, can we go?" He asked, wide eyes looking up at his big brother while kicking his legs in excitement. "All three of us?!

"Sure, if she wants to," Choso said as he ruffled Yuji's hair before the little boy looked up at you, awaiting your response.

"Oh, of course!" You nodded before bringing the phone back to the little boy's attention. "We can go Friday night." Already distracted by his best friends, you let out a small laugh before looking at Choso who shrugged.

The upcoming days went by like a breeze. To your luck, your parents were away on a business trip (without telling you until your mother's assistant left you a text). You rolled your eyes and didn't seem to care, you were used to being on your own rather than have a set of parents around to raise you. It was something that haunted you during your late night thoughts. However, unlike before, you had two people that made your days seem a lot better. Two people you felt as if you could breathe around and not have to worry about proper etiquette and perfect manners.

Friday had finally arrived and your classes came and went. You had met Choso at his place and carpooled with him after letting Yuki know where you'd be. The girls had made last minute plans to go to the movies but, like the great person she was, Yuki offered to make an excuse for you. No one but her knew how close you had grown to Choso. It wasn't like you were... intentionally hiding it, it was known he was your partner. However, you didn't think it needed to be known. It wasn't like you were a couple.

Now enjoying your time at the festival, playing games together (in which Choso had to help Yuji), eating great food and riding some rides, you had won Yuji a tiger plushy that was the size of him. He was a happy boy, but the smile on his face was wider than you had ever seen. He thanked you profusely as he hugged it tight and decided to name it after you (you didn't mind, it was a cute gesture).

Now seated on the ferris wheel as you eyed the environment around you, Yuji sat in between you and Choso as he watched the fireworks with stars in his eyes. You couldn't help but look at Choso with a gentle smile as he looked at you. Soft gazes being exchanged as you felt your heart race, blushing before the two of you looked away. You hated how fast your heart would beat within your chest whenever the two of you made eye contact. It made your stomach turn each time... Maybe Yuki was on to something when she said listen to your heart. As obvious of advise as it was.

"I had a great night," you said as you were now back at Choso's place, standing before your car as he held a sleeping Yuji in one arm and his giant stuffed tiger in the other. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Don't thank me, thank Yuji," he nudged his head towards the sleeping little boy, causing you to chuckle. "I'm glad you came. I would say it must be lonely going back home, but you must be used to it."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed. "But at least I had fun and I can think about that if I get in my head," you tapped your temple, earning a small smile from Choso. "I hope to do something like that again."

"Yeah, me too..." he nodded, eyeing you.

A silence weaved before the two of you as your eyes gazed into one another's. Taking in deep breaths as you could hear the blood pumping within your ears, you tugged Choso down by the collar of his shirt as your lips pressed against his own. Your other hand slid into his hair, through the loose bun he held it in as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. You didn't think much into it, actually, you felt you were in a fever dream as your tongue slid against his bottom lip before his tongue met your own.

As if you realized what you had just done, you pulled away and took a small step back, looking down at Yuji's resting body before wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "Sorry— I shouldn't have done that. I need to go." Without hesitating, you turned and rushed to the driver seat of your car, leaving Choso with a heart thudding in his chest and confusion floating around his head.

Then Monday came around. You had the intention to act like nothing happened when you met up at his place, casually conversing with Yuji and enjoying your time before you got to work. However, Choso was on a different boat. You were breaking out of that disguise and showing your real self, and having you kiss him said a lot. Why the hell would he act like it didn't happen when you clearly wanted it?

"Stop looking at me like that," you said as you typed away.

"How do you expect me to?" Choso asked.

"By looking away?" You shrugged but Choso rolled his eyes, closing your laptop as you gasped. "Hey—"

"I don't know who you've been with before, how your past relationships or whatever were like, but I don't do hookups or whatever the hell the kiss on Friday initiated. You tried acting like nothing happened these past three days, even though you were clearly avoiding me and my messages. Yuji wanted to take you to the aquarium yesterday and you simply left me on read only to answer hours later—"

"Oh, god, it was just a dumb kiss!" You rolled your eyes.

"So dumb that there was tongue?" Choso lifted an eyebrow.

"I got carried away, alright? It meant nothing," you clarified, but the sudden tremble in your tone was a dead giveaway.

"So if I kissed you right now, it wouldn't do anything? You'd feel nothing?" He asked as you nodded.

"Do your worst, I don't see you in any other light. You should be happy I've started considering you as a good fri—" before you could complete your sentence, Choso's hand was on the back of your neck as his lips crashed onto your own. His tongue was quick to slip past your teeth as it met yours in a frenzy. You, at first, tried pushing him away. However, the grip you had on his sweater only pulled him closer as your laptop nearly fell onto the floor if Choso hadn't moved it in time.

Desperately kissing one another as your noses bumped and saliva smeared, you breathed against one another. As both of you clung onto each other, the sound of Yuji's voice calling out for his big brother caused you to push him off of you as you wiped your lips. "I should go," you panted, gathering your things as Choso watched you.

"Wait—"

"It's getting late, my parents should be back," you said as you aimed for his front door, not bothering to look back.

"Fuck..." he breathed as he sunk into his seat, rubbing his face before Yuji called his name again.

A week passed since the second kiss. It was almost as if there was an unspoken rule not to kiss nor touch as you spent your meet ups with a safe distance apart. You didn't bring anything up, of course not, and Choso was too conflicted to figure out what the hell he should do. He knew you were stubborn, and if he wanted something with you, he knew it wasn't going to be easy. There were still layers protecting you and if he tried anything, he was afraid you were going to resort back to square one and hate him again.

So, he let it be... as much as it was eating him alive knowing you definitely felt something for him as he did for you. It was probably why things were awkward, as much as both of you tried to avoid being such way.

Choso was seated at your desk as you were nestled on your bed. It had been a while since he was in your home and the only reason why he was there was due to an annual inspection at his apartment building. If it hadn't been happening, you two would've been social distancing on his couch instead.

"Finally," you breathed, tossing yourself back on your bed. "We finished."

Looking over at you, the way your shorts clung onto your thighs and how your sweater rode up to expose a piece of your belly, Choso sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck it."

Sitting up on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed, "wha—" Choso was suddenly on top of you. You let out a gasp as he practically pinned you on your bed. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, but the second you felt his lips on yours, they fluttered close. Your palms tried to push against him, but the sensation filling you—the nights of endless dreams of Choso—you couldn't help but succumb. Your hands slipped through his hair, tugging at the loose strands as your lips parted for him.

Kissing you deeply as his tongue glided across your own, tracing every inch of your mouth as you tugged on his hair, Choso felt you wrap one of your legs around his waist. Lowering himself on you before rolling you over to straddle him, you subconsciously began grinding your hips against his as your tongue reached for his again.

Just as you felt Choso's hands reach under your sweater, your door slammed open. Your heart was pounding faster than ever as the sounds of your father screaming echoed in your head. He came rushing in with rage in his eyes as he ripped you off of Choso. Your breathing somehow seemed louder than the yelling beside you as your vision began to blur. From one second to the next, you were shoved back behind your father as he grabbed Choso by the collar and yelled in his face.

The voice of your father and now your mother as she stood by the door in pure shock that turned into disgust, muffled as you tried reaching out for Choso as he was shoved towards the door. "Choso! Wait!" You called out but your father blocked you. "Stop— No! Choso!" Your blurred vision was forced to look back at your father as he spat out his disappointment in you. Saying you will never see that boy again as long as you lived under his roof. How he blamed Choso for the person you were becoming and how you were forbidden to leave the house unless you told them exactly where you were going.

It was absolutely childish, you were an adult! But that wasn't what had you the most devastated, no, it was the fact that—yes, you had fallen for Choso and things were never going to be the same.

"How long has it been?" Yuki asked as she sat before you at her dinner table.

"9 days," you sighed, rubbing your temples as you sunk into your seat. Yuki basically became your therapist as she knew just about everything that's been happening between you and Choso. As exhausting as it was, she was rooting for you two. She was hoping for the best but hearing how things just kept getting out of hand, she couldn't help but worry for you. "He's avoiding me now. He's blocked my number. Couldn't call nor text him." Groaning as you leaned your forehead into your palm, you shook your head.

"You need to tell him," she said but you shook your head again. "You've gotta find a way. He can't be avoiding you for no reason."

"If I tell him I'm sure he won't say he feels the same. He's doing this for my sake, I can tell... I just—" sucking in a deep breath, you frowned, "it shouldn't have ended up this way."

"Well, you can't control your heart from falling so deeply for someone, can you?"

"Choco! You are smoking again!" Yuji stomped as he eyed his older brother who had just walked in from the balcony. "You promised you'd stop!"

"I know," Choso sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

"You broke your promise!" The little boy pouted. "It's not good for you! It makes you stinky and can kill you!"

"I know, Yuji—"

"I will stop eating candy if you stop smoking!" The pink haired boy pointed as Choso sighed.

"No, you won't—"

"And why haven't I see my best friend? It's been too long, Choco!" Yuji furrowed his eyebrows as he crossed his arms. Choso knew he meant you.

"I don't know..." the older man groaned, as if feeling a headache coming. He was used to his little brother's nonstop talking and pestering... but today, he wasn't having any of it.

"Liar! You are always talking to her! I miss her and you stopped having her over!"

"Enough!" Choso snapped as Yuji instantly flinched. His bottom lip pursed out as his eyes began to water. His tiny body trembled before he turned and ran to his room. "Dammit... I—" going after him and finding a lump under the sheets that was shaking, Choso frowned. "Yuji, I'm sorry." Seeing the giant stuffed tiger sticking out from under the sheets, Choso gently pulled the blanket back. "I didn't mean to snap on you... I just..." taking a seat on the bed as he eyed Yuji, Choso rubbed Yuji's back. "I can't see her anymore... which means you can't, either."

"But... I miss... her..." Yuji sniffled into the stuffed toy.

"Me too..." lying back on the bed as he looked at the ceiling, Choso felt Yuji shift beside him as Yuji sat up.

"Why can't we see her?" He asked.

"It's complicated..." Choso answered as he rubbed his face.

"Do you love her?" Yuji tilted his head as he held the stuffed tiger beside him.

Feeling his heart skip a beat, Choso rolled onto his side and eyed his little brother. "I do."

A gasp left the pink haired boy as he scooted closer. "Well, if you love her, you shouldn't give up," Yuji said as he gave Choso a hopeful smile. "You should go see her and tell her!"

A heavy knock sounded on Yuki's door as you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at it. "Are you expecting someone?" You asked.

"No, but you are," she said as she leaned back in her seat, stretching her arms above her with a sigh.

"Huh?" You shook your head as your confused expression deepened.

"Go open the door," Yuki nudged her chin.

Unsure as to why you listened, you let out a huff before pushing back your seat and standing up. "I don't know what you have up your sleeve... it better not be my parents. They know I'm here, you'd think they'd believe me..." you mumbled to yourself as you opened the door, expecting two unwanted faces... instead, getting one you had been aching to see. "Choso?"

Seeing the way your eyes widened as he stood before you at Yuki's apartment door, drenched in rain water as a nightly shower had rolled in, Choso felt his heart race as he reached for your face and pulled you into a sudden kiss. His beating heart grew faster as he so desperately clung onto you, but your palms instantly pressed against his chest and shoved him back.

Seeing the look of shock now on his face, you clenched your teeth, "you— you think you can just come out of nowhere and—"

Pulling you back into this kiss as his hands tug onto your wrists, Choso silenced your complaints with his own words. "I love you," he breathed against your lips, kissing them repetitively. "I love you," kiss, "I love you," kiss, "I fucking love you," kiss. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he nearly whispered as he pressed his forehead against your own as you stood stunned before him. "I was scared. You deserve better than me. I believed you were too good for me. We are from such different worlds and you deserved someone like you. That's why I avoided you. But, fuck, I've never felt this miserable being away from you. You were all I could think about. Dream about. I missed you. I missed your smile and laugh. The smell of your perfume. Seeing you being your genuine self around me. I missed having you around and caring for Yuji. Fuck, why do we do this to ourselves?" Choso breathed. "You avoided me, I avoided you. We let everything that doesn't matter affect us but I don't give a damn about what anyone else says, I love you and I want you. I want to be with you. I—"

Reaching for the back of his head as you tilted your own, you kissed him, now being the one to silence him. "I love you, too," you confessed before wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tight. "I do... I was scared, too. Of everything. But you bring out the best in me, you make me happy, Choso... I want you just as bad."

"Finally!" Yuki groaned as she stood from her seat. "Having Choso's number was handy."

Looking over at her as you had nearly forgotten where you were, you blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, just me being the greatest friend and telling Choso where you were and making sure you two finally get together. It was exhausting seeing how things were going all because of lack of communication and fear and how ridiculous your parents are. You're an adult, they can't stop you from who you love," she rolled her eyes with a wave of her hand. "Now go on and leave with Choso and have fun. You can thank me later," she shooed as you and Choso backed up before she closed the door on you.

"Uh..." you stared at the door before looking up at him, seeing him shrug.

"She had been texting me for a while. I was actually a bit confused but then I started seeing her on campus when you weren't around and we got along pretty well. So I figured she'd know your whereabouts, asked her where you were, and luckily you were with her. This would've been much harder if you were home, but I would've done it anyway," he explained as you smiled.

"This is the most I've ever heard you speak," you teased as he shook his head. It was then you remembered he was still soaking wet and you were still outside just barely covered from the rain. "Let's go back to your place before you get sick."

The second you arrived at his apartment—and learned Yuji was staying at Nanami's with this last minute decision to see you—Choso was quick to pull you back into a kiss. You had tried to stop him, telling him he should dry up, but Choso instead started undressing right before you in between kisses. His black tee that clung to his body was the first to go, revealing his toned chest that you so quickly went to touch, feeling his abs underneath your fingertips. Then, he went for his sweat pants, kicking them to a side before he went for your clothes. You couldn't quite process what was happening, your head was spinning from the kissing (and the fact that he was in nothing but his boxer briefs before you). Before you knew it, all that covered you was your underwear as Choso left delicate kisses down your neck and collarbone.

Now standing before his bed as he held your hands in his, Choso pressed his forehead against yours as the two of you stood in silence, listening not only to the rain trickle, but your shared breathing. "I'm not that bad of person, am I?

"No," you shook your head. "I was a fool. I'm sorry..."

"Doesn't matter anymore," he mumbled, "you love me and I love you. That's all I care about. What's in the past is in the past, I love everything about you, and I'm glad I got to peel away those layers," he smiled as you did, too. "May we?"

"Mhm," hummed, "yes... please."

Reaching behind to unclasp your bra before slowly removing it from your body, Choso then lifted you up and settled you on his bed, tugging down your underwear. Bare and exposed to him as your heart raced and chest heaved, you were just about ready to cover yourself, but Choso's lips beat you to it. He kissed along your chest and bare breasts, down your belly and to your thighs. He parted your knees and admired the way your bare pussy glistened for him.

Watching with hooded eyes as he licked his lips, you swallowed as you clung to his bed sheets. Your eyes followed the way his figure lowered to his knees, how he kissed closer and closer to your heat before leaving a sweet peck on your clit.

Reaching one hand up, Choso interlaced his fingers with yours before he licked a broad strip up your cunt, moaning at the taste of you as you shivered. He felt your free hand slide into his dark locks as you let out a shaky breath the moment his tongue teased your entrance, only to make its way back to your aching nub. Choso smiled at the way your hand tugged at his hair to push on his head, further burying his face against you. Swirling his tongue around your clit, he made his way towards your hole before teasing it once again.

"Choso, please, stop teasing..." you begged with a breathy tone.

"Anything for you, baby." Plunging his tongue in you as he fucked you slow, he pulled away to play with your clit before two of his finger pushed into you. The sounds you made had his grip tightening around your hand as his other thrusted his fingers in and out of you.

Your toes curled as you felt that burning desire within you ready to explode. "Ch— Choso, I'm gonna—" but before you could finish, he pulled his fingers out, replacing his tongue with his thumb on your clit. Feeling his tongue sink into once again, Choso was more than ready to lap up your juices as you came on his face with a shaky moan.

Taking in as much of you as he could, groaning in delight at the taste, Choso released your hand before he crawled over you and slid his tongue past your mouth to share your essence. He listened to you hum as your shaky hands reached for his briefs and tugged them down. Helping you as he removed the remaining piece of clothing on his body, he felt your hands caress the side of his thighs before reaching in between the two of you.

Gliding your tongue along his as you so sweetly wanted to swallow each other whole, your hands wanted to feel the weight of him on them. You gently began to rub at his length, already knowing it was going to a bit of a hassle to have him fill you just by the feel of his bare cock in your palm. You pumped him slowly, brushing your thumb over his slit as his breath hitched against your lips. "Fuck me, please," you quietly begged. "I want you, I love you."

Separating from the kiss as he gently peeled your hand away from him before he could come on your hand (which he was sure would happen in any second) he brought you deeper into the bed before he reached for his drawer. That is until you stopped him. "What is it?" He asked, heart dropping. Were you having second thoughts?

"I want you bare," you breathed. "Please..."

"Are— Are you sure?" He asked as you nodded. "I'll pull out."

"No," you shook your head, giving him a look as if saying it was okay.

Blushing, Choso nodded, "okay." Wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned himself with you, Choso slowly sunk into your tightness as a hiss left him. You reached up and held onto his shoulders as he bottomed out, pausing for a moment as he rested his forehead against yours.

"It's okay," you breathed before giving him a small peck to the cheek.

Pulling back slowly, Choso began thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. He littered your face with kisses as your eyes fluttered closed. Kissing down your neck and chest, he brought one hand up to fondle with one of your breasts. Giving the other some attention as he sucked at the skin and left red blotches in his wake, faint bites and kisses too, he brought your nipple into his mouth as he began to pick up his pace.

"Faster," you breathed as Choso did so. He thrusted deeply into you, giving your breasts equal attention. Kissing and licking, biting and marking, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing him. Your hands tugged on his hair, the sweetest sounds leaving your lips as he fucked into you in a way that made your heart flutter. He wasn't trying to break you nor fuck you into the next life. No, he was loving you in a physical way to prove just how deep his feelings ran for you. The languid movements of his hips, the kisses against your body, the way he brought his hands into yours as he whispered his love for you into your ear. You swore you could hear angels singing. The tears brimming in your eyes and staining your face as you felt this wave of pure ecstasy wash all over you.

You had never come like this before, almost in unison as you felt your mind, body, and soul becoming one with his. You must've been in heaven, up in the clouds. It was almost ethereal. He filled you so deeply before his body nearly gave out and collapsed on yours.

He needed a moment as he stayed in you. Catching his breath before pulling out and falling beside you. Tugging you to him as his lips lazily met yours in the loveliest, sloppiest kiss, Choso ran his fingers through your hair as he mumbled sweet nothings against your lips.

"I love you," you breathed, nuzzling your face against his chest before looking up at him. Caressing his hair then rubbing your thumb along his nose and cheeks, you gave him a sleepy smile. "You're so handsome..."

Giving you the same smile, Choso caressed your forehead, placing his hand on the back of your neck as he kissed you once more, "you're beautiful..." he muttered. "So pretty... I'm so damn lucky..."

"Me too..." Enjoying the silence shared between you as you felt yourself more than ready to fall asleep, you then forced yourself up as you remembered something. "Choso! Your hair is still soaking wet!"

Letting out a small laugh, he sat up and reached for your hands, tugging you out of the bed with him, "then let's share a shower and you can dry my hair."

"Oh, I so won the bet against Gojo," Mei Mei said as she stood beside Utahime.

"Kinda predictable, but at least she's happy," Utahime said.

"And I helped!" Yuki beamed as the three of them watched you walk hand in hand with Choso across the courtyard of the campus. The biggest smile was on your face as Choso gazed down at you, almost as if it were a scene ripped from a rom-com.

"Ladies, now that Choso is taken, I'm available—"

"Save it, Mahito," Yuki raised a hand as the other two women beside her simply ignored the man. A laugh left Suguru as he was trailing beside Mahito, instantly gaining Yuji's attention. "But if Suguru is available..." teasing him with a wink, Suguru's eyes widened. "Men are so easy to toy with."

ONE YEAR LATER.

It was almost impossible to keep your hands to yourself. You always found yourself twirling Choso's hair around your finger, giving his bicep a small squeeze, hugging his arm, placing your palm on his thigh... it was rare for you not to be right beside him. Choso didn't mind, he never did, he loved how your touches felt. He welcomed them, actually. When you weren't touching him, even in the slightest way, he felt off. As if something was missing.

You didn't seem to care where you were. If he wasn't around, you'd patiently wait to see him again, knowing very well it would be you jumping him into a hug or pulling him into a needy kiss. You weren't sure who you had become within the year you had been with Choso, but it was so freeing.

Especially being able to do it in front of your parents.

They were not happy when they found out you had been secretly dating him for months without telling them, but their reaction didn't phase you. Actually, you were in the midst of moving out. Choso had offered you to stay with him—and although you were a bit worried at first—you couldn't have been any happier with your decision. Away from the two most troublesome people in your life, now living with the person you most adored, and your tiny best friend, Yuji. Yuji was the most ecstatic when he learned the news of you moving in. Already planning out things to do with you like movie nights and games to play together as well as other little things that made the boy happy.

Overall, you were happier than ever. Freer than a bird. And seeing the look of disgust on your parents face at dinner did nothing to stop you.

You didn't know why you did it, maybe it was because they were your parents, and maybe since you were a good person, you still visited every now and then. However, it was almost always with Choso. And they couldn't do anything about it.

"Well, we have to go pick up Yuji," you said as you stood from the now cleared out dinner table.

Choso followed in your lead as he felt you slip your hand into his. He was already used to your parents at this point and didn't bat an eyelash to their judgmental looks. Though, they were... improving. Slowly. The glares and scowls weren't so bad anymore. Wasn't his fault their little princess of a daughter fell in love with a terror like him. He loved her more than anything in the universe and nothing would change that. "Good night and thank you for dinner."

Gathering your purse and cardigan from where they hung, Choso opened the front door for you as the two of you walked right out. These nights always ended this way, you never waited for a response or some sort of action. In reality, these gatherings never lasted more than an hour. There wasn't much to say or do besides eat...

Climbing into Choso's car as the two of you let out a laugh you had been holding in, you gave his cheek a kiss before he backed out of the driveway and made his way to Nanami's. "It's the way your mom looks so disturbed when you hold my hand."

"And how my father bites his tongue whenever I give you the smallest of kisses," you chuckled. "A year and you'd think they'd move on. That's what happens when you have one kid. They should've had more."

"It's alright, they'll find a way to accept it... Eventually. In a decade or so," he said as you sighed, reaching over to hold his hand while resting your head against the seat.

"Whatever, at least my grandparents like you. My grandmother is always asking for you when I do my weekly calls," you snickered as Choso smirked. "She doesn't get why my mother is the way she is. She blames my father. Oh well, at least we've got their support."

"And our friends," he added.

"Mhm," you smiled. "That's all I need."

Eventually arriving at Nanami's home, you were greeted by said blond man trailing behind an excited pink haired boy. Yuji always had a habit of rushing out the moment you arrived, practically glued to the window whenever Nanami announced you two were on your way.

Helping the little boy into his car seat, both you and Choso greeted and thanked Nanami before the man bowed his head and closed the door for Yuji. Said boy smiled at you as you turned to give his hair a little ruffle before poking his ribs gently. "How was Nanamin's?"

"Fun! He helped me with my homework and then we had dinner with his family and then we played uno!" He said as you grinned. "And you?"

"Not as fun as it is being around you," you pouted, earning a giggle from the little boy.

"Choco's not fun?" He asked, earning a sigh from his big brother.

"Of course he is, he makes it all the better. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't there," you sighed as Yuji lifted his eyebrows, only to grin.

"Then I think I know what you have to do to make sure Choco is always there!" Yuji clapped his hands.

"What is it?" You curiously asked as Choso looked over.

"Get married!" He exclaimed.

Looking at one another, Choso shrugged, "he's not wrong."

Playfully rolling your eyes, you readjusted yourself on your seat as you went back to holding his hand. "Well, then I'll be waiting for you to propose."

an: so you've made it this far? thank you so much! i promise you it was worth it... how are feeling? it's dramatic, i know, but i love drama and angst as much as i love smut and fluff... reblogs are much appreciated! xo

#haruno writes;#choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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myaswriting · 2 years

Text

platonic - rafe cameron

part two / part three

rafe cameron x f!kook reader

inspiration songs:

back to sleep - chris brown, fuck up the friendship - leah kate, come thru - summer walker, skin - rihanna, nasty - ariana grande, kisses down low - kelly rowland, say it tory lanez, drunk and nasty - pi’erre bourne, wet the bed - chris brown, ride - somo, naked & woman - doja cat, find your love - drake

summary: rafe was two years older and her older brother’s best friend. always has been off limits they have always been close, but never close enough. when rafe finds out y/n has feelings for him and suddenly he sees her in a whole new light. he starts to notice her more and more, developing his own feelings for the girl. will her brother keep them apart?

warnings: swearing, under age drinking, angst, jealousy, anger, & toxic past relationships

word count: 2.5k

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friday 7:12am

making her way down the stairs to head to school y/n hears her older brother talking to rafe. fuck. god what the fuck. why is he here? it’s 7am! she fixes her backpack strap and slowly walk towards the door. “y/n.” she hears her father say from his office. suddenly rafe and hayden look over at her. “damn it,” she squeezes her fists together and turning towards her dad. “hey dad, good morning.” he stands up from his desk chair and makes his way towards her slowly. “why are you leaving the house so early?” it was her last day of high school and she wanted to catch up with her friends.

“just wanted to see my friends,” she smiles lightly before turning back towards the door. “y/n you need to eat,” she hears her brother say. she groans quietly. she soon makes her way towards the kitchen to see hayden and rafe standing on the other side of the island. their large figure 8 home gives her at least 6 feet of distance from rafe. she bites the inside of her cheek before making eye contact with rafe. that alone made her heart stop. she was extremely nervous all of a sudden. she knew why she just didn’t want to be in this situation in the first place. hayden sets a plate in front of her placing a blueberry muffin on it that he heated up in the oven.

“i was going to eat it, but i figured you needed it more than me,” he says shutting the oven off and pushing the plate towards her. “thanks,” she mumbles taking a bite. rafe looks back at her brother. “so, you think i could be an officer for the fraternity,” rafe says leaning against the counter. “oh yeah, definitely. especially with the name cameron you are already a shoe in,” hayden laughs. her family has always been close to the cameron’s. it was always the monroe’s and cameron’s, the richest people on the island of killdare and honorable alum of chapel hill.

“thanks for the muffin hayden, i’m gonna head out,” y/n says climbing down from her stool. hayden nodes and goes back to talking to rafe.

“he looked so good mace, he was doing doing absolutely nothing, like he’s walking sex” y/n groans while laying her head against her locker. “who?” she hears a voice ask from behind her. it was no one other than sarah cameron. the sophomore stares up at y/n with wide eyes. “oh uh hey sarah,” she laughs awkwardly because she almost got caught drooling over the blonde’s older brother. “i came over here to invite you to my annual last day of school party. parents are out of town,” she smiles ear to ear. “also rafe is back so he’ll be able to get booze from someone,”

macey laughs and thanks sarah for the invite. sarah walks away quickly catching up with topper and his other friends to invite them as well. “you know, hayden doesn’t want you anywhere near rafe,” macey sighs. “yeah i know, he’s a cock block,” she slams her locker shut. “i understand the whole bro code thing, but if i wanted it first it shouldn’t be breaking bro code,” y/n mumbles biting her lip. “rafe doesn’t see you like that babe, im sure hayden has warned him a million times,” she says patting y/n’s back looking at her sadly. “i know, god why won’t he see me as more than just his best friends little sister?” y/n frowns closing her eyes.

after the last bell rang everyone floods the hallways and outside the school to finally enjoy freedom. y/n grabs the last of her things from her locker. she looks at it one last time before she shuts it and walks towards the exit. “hey y/n! wait up!” she hears sarah shout from behind her. sarah catches up to her and wraps her arm around y/n. “you’re coming tonight right?” sarah asks all giddy. “of course, how could i miss a cameron party,” y/n laughs. “good, i have to tell you something big, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone,” she says biting her lip nervously. “yeah of course hop in,” y/n says unlocking her car.

“i may have kissed john b,” she spills quickly. y/n looks over at her with wide eyes. “what,” she gasps. “what about topper?” y/n asks breathlessly. “we uh we’re still together, but i want to end things with him. he just isn’t the one for me,” she sighs laying back against the seat. “you’re 16 you have lots of time to find out about who you want sarah.” y/n is still processing what sarah just said. “but... you know how much your brother and his friends aka your boyfriend hate the pogues,” she rubs her face and frowns again. “i know i just, he’s so sweet and he treats me better than topper,”

y/n sits back and looks at sarah with sympathy. “look maybe you need to talk to topper and tell him how you’re feeling before you decide anything,” y/n says starting her car. “also am i picking up wheezie?” she asks to lighten the mood. “oh yeah she was going to walk, but i told her i would find a ride,” sarah laughs softly. “alright lets go,”

friday night 10:23pm

y/n looks through her clothes and finally picks out an outfit for the party and makes her way down stairs. she finds her older sister standing in the living room talking to her brother about something involving the family business. she looks at them waiting for them to stop. “y/n, you look so cute where are you going?” laura asks walking towards her to touch her hair. “the cameron’s,” hayden cuts her off before she could answer laura. “ohh you finally going on a date with ra-” y/n quickly covers laura’s mouth. “no what,” she says face flushing red. “what?” hayden says a little angry. “rafe?” he furrows his eyebrows. “you like rafe?” he says walking closer. laura whispers a sorry.

“i uh, no she was kidding,” y/n laughs nervously. “why are you blushing?” he asks getting even closer. “i’m not its just hot in here,” she looks away from her brother and backs away. “stop hayden,” laura says pushing him away. “there is nothing wrong with a little crush,” she rolls her eyes. “yeah but there is a problem if my best friend is macking on my baby sister,” he says with gritted teeth. “no look, you guys have it all wrong. sarah is throwing a party and i am going for her. plus i dont know what laura is talking about, i dont like rafe,” y/n lies shaking her head. “y/n its okay,” laura smiles. y/n looks away from them and walks towards the door. she couldn’t believe her sister would say that. she told her that in full confidence. she sighs before starting her car. she feels her phone vibrate in between her legs.

monhoe siblings grp chat

monroe #2: laura you better be joking, or i’ll kill cameron.

monroe #1: i was jeez chill out hay. i like to tease y/n bc rafe is cute

monroe #3: hayden please i’m trying to have a good night. obviously rafe doesn’t like me like that nor do i. she likes to rile you up.

monroe #1: hey y/n thats not fair :(

monroe #3: you know its true laur. rafe is his lover

monroe #2: stfu y/n/n. >:( just have fun and be safe, call if you need a ride

monroe #1: yeah have fun babygirl your graduation is on sunday!

monroe #3: yeah yeah :/

y/n finally pulls up to tannyhill and shakes off the conversation with her older siblings. she was ready to get absolutely wasted. she gets inside to see there were a lot of people. way more than last year. she makes her way to the kitchen to get a drink. she runs into a hard chest and gasps almost falling on her ass. she feels someone grab her arms and pull her up. “woah there monroe dont fall want you on your ass,” she hears rafe’s laugh. she looks up at him and quickly gets out of his grip. “thanks,” she mumbles fixing her dress. “you okay you seem stressed?” he asks with a soft voice looking into her eyes with his deep blue ones. “yeah, yeah i’m fine,” she says dismissive not looking him in the eyes. rafe looks her up and down before nodding and walking away. she watches him walk away.

she gets a drink and chugs it not caring at all who’s watching. rafe looked deep in her soul. jesus what the fuck. why was he concerned. he has never cared about how she’s been. she’s known him since she was 3 and he was 5 and he has never ever cared. she takes another glass and chugs that as well. “fuck yeah y/n!” macey laughs wrapping her arms around y/n’s waist. “you look so sexy and smell so good,” she giggles nuzzling into y/n’s neck. she was way past gone already. “thank you mace, how many drinks have you had?” y/n laughs taking her best friend into her arms. “too many, kelcey left me for rafe and topper,” she frowns. her and kelce were attached at the hip so y/n assumed macey walked away because she was drunk. “okay well, lets go find him yeah?”

once they find kelce he thanks y/n and takes macey into his arms. she finally enjoys herself and starts dancing. she dances with sarah and a few of her other friends in he senior class. she has had a lot of drinks and is starting to feel warm and fuzzy inside. she wraps her arms around some guy who was dancing next her and lays her head back in euphoria. she was gonna let go tonight. no more thinking about rafe. he is off to chapel hill once again and she’ll be at duke.

the next morning y/n wakes up on sarah’s bed next to sarah and some girl named olivia that wants to be sarah’s best friend so bad. y/n moans and rolls off the bed. she fixes her dress and looks at herself in the mirror. “fuck,” she mumbles looking at the giant cut on her top lip. she hissed and the feeling when she touched it. “you look like you fought someone,” she snaps her head to see rafe standing in the door way laughing at her. “honestly, i might have,” she laughs looking at it again. “wonder what the other person looks like?” she jokes grabbing her shoes to leave. “hayden came by and picked up your car so your parents wouldn’t be mad,” he says showing her the text from hayden. “well what the hell how am i supposed to get home,” she groans. “i can take you,” rafe says shrugging. she looks up at him with wide eyes. “no thats not necessary,” she laughs nervously. “no its all good i need to go that way anyways to meet my dad at his office, they decided to come home early this morning to work,”

y/n nods and follows rafe out of the room. “rafe!” they both turn to see olivia rushing towards them. “can you give me a ride too,” she bats her eyes. y/n rolls her eyes and looks away. “uh, no sorry i dont know where you live,” he says looking at her annoyed. why was he annoyed? i mean it would make things less awkward if she came, right? y/n looks back at olivia and smiles at her apologetically. “oh uh okay,” she says glaring at y/n. “thanks anyways,” y/n frowns and looks down at her feet.

the car ride wasn’t as bad as y/n anticipated. the low music in the background made things seem so much better. y/n was shaking her leg really hard biting the tip of her finger. she was so fucking nervous. she looks over at him to see him concentrated on the road with one hand on the wheel the other on the gear. she stares at his large ring filled hands. she swallows looking away. it was suddenly getting extremely hot in there. she rubs the top of her thighs and coughs. “so uh, did you enjoy the party?” she asks softly. rafe looks over at her and nods. “yeah i always enjoy the parties i throw,” he says turning down her street. “me too,” she says reaching for all her stuff. “tell hayden i’ll see him later, yeah?” he says parking in front of your house. “yeah, course,” she says stepping out of his pick up. “thanks for the ride,” she says before shutting the door.

when she steps inside its quiet. almost too quiet. confused she walks deeper into the house starting to hear some voices outside in the back. her eyes widen when she sees her ex davis standing there with his father talking to her mother. she shakes her head quickly and walks quickly away from the back door. “no no no no no no,” she says looking down walking towards the stairs. davis was her first and only boyfriend. he turned out to be the worst human being on the planet. why the hell was he here with her mother. she makes her way up the stairs. she finally reaches her bedroom locking her door. could this day get any worse.

rafe makes his way into his dad’s office. he sees his father talking to a few clients. “oh rafe perfect you’re here,” he sees rose walk towards him with papers. he looks at the stack of papers and she hands them to him. “what are these?” he asks following her down the hallway. “houses that my clients will be interested in,” she says opening the door to her office for him. “also you’re late, what took you so long to get here?” she asks motioning where to set the stack of papers. “had to take one of sarah’s friends home,” she looks at him with a confused look. “why? you never cared about sarah’s friends, let alone doing her a favor by taking her friends home,” he rolls his eyes and sits down. “i felt like being nice,” he shrugs playing the rings on his fingers.

“it was y/n wasn’t it,” rose smirks. rafe looks up with wide eyes. “what? why would you think that?” he asks defensively. “you like her,” she says nonchalantly signing some papers on her desk. “don’t act like i don’t see the way you look at her,” rafe shakes his head in disbelief. rose seemed so confident in her response. rafe didn’t think much about y/n. he didn’t like her. well at least he didn’t think he did that is.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tags: @lilacsandwhiskey @sugarcoatedjj @r0und3bitch @aemtdea

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asterlark · 3 years

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ok. samwell college of music au. i wrote all four years let's go babey

eric bittle is this lovely southern tenor (sounds kinda like mitch grassi or ben j pierce) who posts covers (& sometimes originals, but always with neutral or no pronouns because he can't post anything that says he or him ☹) on his youtube channel and has major stage fright but is very talented; he also plays ukulele

he got into samwell college of music on a voice scholarship and his dad doesn’t exactly approve but eric was never the 6′2″ masculine football player he wanted anyway so why not go for his dreams

he auditions for the very competitive samwell men’s contemporary chorus (there’s like 20 choirs; chamber choir, jazz choir, a cappella groups (lax bros do a cappella), combined choirs, etc- smcc does contemporary pop/rock music) and while he’s very very nervous and shaky as he auditions, directors hall & murray see a lot of potential in him (with major grumbling from student director jack)

(the rest of this ridiculously long au under the cut)

the group is small, for a chorus, because the point of the group is not a wall of sound but a focus on all of the very talented guys’ voices coming together in these gorgeous harmonies and basically they’re like one of the best choruses on campus and all the male singers want in

so there’s jack zimmermann, who of course eric knows because everyone knows who he is, he’s the son of bob and alicia zimmermann, both incredibly talented and famous musicians, and basically those genes were in his favor because he’s mega fucking talented

(jack was supposed to sign a recording contract to be in a band with his best friend kent parson when he was 17 but something happened between them and the pressure was too much and jack overdosed on something- there’s so many rumors no one knows what’s real- and kent signed solo in LA & went on to win grammys for his albums about a mysterious ex and jack disappeared for a few years to be a counselor at a music camp and reappears at samwell, knocking everyone’s socks off again like he’d never left, except with a renewed vigor and intenseness that freaks everyone out)

jack is a contemporary writing & production major, freaky talented and sings like a modern day frank sinatra, and he plays like 20 instruments and can read music like breathing air and writes songs like if he stopped he’d die; his music is folksy and mournful and he plays all the instruments on his tracks himself- guitar, piano, strings, drums- it sounds like a full band but nope. just jack. he’s intense

“we all get nicknames in this choir,” justin informs eric on his first day, “we’re those kinda guys.” so he’s bitty, which he finds vaguely offensive (bc he’s not that short!) but still cute, & the rest of the group is introduced to him:

“shitty” knight (voice like colyer) is a musical education major and an enigma of a singer with this awesome, earthy, raspy voice that’s really interesting to listen to and a very.... unique style & look; he writes cheesy but shockingly good raps about social justice topics and he will sing-lecture you if you’ve said something offensive (he also plays banjo)

justin “ransom” oluransi is a music business & management major with an angelic voice you can’t help but listen to; he’s sultry and has an incredible range and does runs like nobody’s business (with a voice like daniel caesar or leslie odom jr UGH)

adam “holster” birkholtz is a voice performance major, wants to be on broadway and it’s all he ever goddamn talks about basically, he’s a belter and has a lot of charisma and starpower and he’ll charm the pants off of you within one note; can also play piano and irritates everyone constantly because his regular volume is like a level 11 (voice like the frontman of my brothers and i combined w/ x ambassadors lead singer)

larissa “lardo” duan is at the local art institute because performing arts is not her jam and she’d much rather paint; she’s a barista at annie’s and supervises open mic nights and keeps the annoying choir dudes from driving away all her patrons

“i’m not even in your dumbass choir,” she says when the group gave her her nickname. holster just told her that she was an honorary member and then started sing-shouting a song at her about how good she is

bitty’s first year is hard because he’s talented and he works hard but he shies away when anyone asks him to sing outside the group and like, he can sing to a camera by himself but being on a stage with everyone looking at you and the sole responsibility of the song on your shoulders is terrifying and no thanks

jack does not. understand this. he’s been performing practically since he came out of the womb and he doesn’t really get performance nerves (what he gets is anxiety about how he did after he gets off stage that follows him home and makes it so he can’t sleep) - so he bothers bitty about it constantly like “you just need practice, you just have to sing by yourself a lot and then you’ll get over it” which like.... that’s true but it’s also hella scary and bitty’s like “no thanks!!!!”

but jack’s annoying and intense so he makes bitty do open mic with him every saturday night and it’s going okay and bitty loves his choir and loves his school and these new friends he’s making and he finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them during his second term

then during their spring choral showcase at the end of his freshman year bitty has a solo and he’s worked really hard on it and he’s feeling good- okay he’s completely freaked out but he’s trying to feel good- but when he gets up on stage there’s so many people and the stage lights are so hot on his face and he flips out a little and maybe he passes out from anxiety and stress right on stage and it’s terrible and he’s so embarrassed and ashamed that he ruined their set at the showcase

of course jack blames himself because “we shouldn’t have given you a solo before you were ready, i misjudged it, i’m sorry” - and they all feel kinda bad bc holy fuck they didn’t know his stage fright was that bad like they didn’t know someone could pass out just by being anxious to sing

he practices all the time over the summer and goes to his local open mic at jack’s insistence and it actually helps a lot because instead of a sea of strangers judging him it’s a bunch of people he knows and they’re all smiling at him and when he finishes his song they cheer for him and it boosts his self-confidence a lot

his sophomore year they have three new members- chris ”chowder” chow (voice like ieuan), an excitable music education major with impressive rapping skills, derek "nursey" nurse (frank ocean or leon bridges type), a songwriting major who can also play violin and guitar, and will ”dex” poindexter (like tom west), a production & engineering major who tried out with chowder bc he needed moral support and didn't expect to get in but impressed the directors with his voice

the year’s going pretty good, bitty’s still pretty scared of singing alone but more confident now and the open mic nights with jack haven’t stopped, so he’s getting better. and one night they’re hanging out at annie’s after closing waiting for lardo to be done so they can walk her home, and bitty suggests that jack sing with him one of these nights, and jack says he doesn’t know any of bitty’s songs and bitty says they can write one together half jokingly but then jack is like “yes.” with that Intense Look

SO they get together a couple days later in jack’s room at the house they all live in together (bitty moved in at the beginning of the year after previous smcc member john johnson called him- how’d he get his number?- and told him he could take his room if he wanted), jack with his guitar and bitty with his ukulele, and it’s a little awkward until bitty says jack should play him one of his songs

and, okay, he doesn’t really know what to expect because the only music jack ever released to the public was that one single he did with kent parson when they were 17 so bitty doesn’t even know if he has anything to play him, but he does- he starts playing these soft, sad notes on the guitar and opens his mouth and sings about being lonely and scared and unsure, about false starts and shaky ground and not knowing where you stand with someone, about expectations and lying awake at night and wishing so hard you were someone else, and bitty watches him sing and just kind of... realizes he’s head over heels for this boy and internally Freaks Out a little

he tries to put that aside and they start to write this song, at first it’s weird because jack’s like “all your songs are love songs i can’t really relate to happy love songs” and bitty’s like “listen... i’ve never even had a boyfriend i just write a bunch of sappy love stuff because it’s not about me it’s about whoever’s listening to it, they’re gonna project their own experiences on my music anyway so it doesn’t matter if it’s my real life or not” and jack’s like “alright while fake af that’s smart and i respect you” (what bitty doesn't say is that he writes about what he really wants which is to fall in love & be in a happy relationship)

they say they’re just gonna write this kinda vague sad song but they both secretly write lines about their actual lives so it ends up being really personal and real and raw for the both of them

they sing the song at open mic that saturday and the crowd at annie’s is never that big but they’ve never got a standing ovation here before, and some girl shouts “MAKE AN ALBUM” (it may or may not be lardo) and they both blush furiously and bitty’s like “... that was really nice, jack” and jack’s like “... yeah it was good good job you’re really getting some confidence out there nice work” (bitty: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AAAAH”)

around this time jack’s really thinking about what he’s gonna do when he’s done at samwell, talking with his parents and his agent and looking into different record companies and deciding if he wants to sign with anyone or possibly start his own company- the head of a small company called falcon records in rhode island has been talking to him a lot, and jack talks to bitty about how he thinks it’d be nice to start small, and the record exec georgia and the producer marty had both been really nice and welcoming, and bitty’s so happy for him but also just... sad that he won’t be around jack every day after he graduates

THEN at a haus party celebrating their win of a local choral competition, who shows up but none other than pop star kent parson to Ruin The Fun

bitty sees the way jack pales when kent walks in, notices them disappear upstairs together and feels a little sick worrying about jack but chalks it up to the highly alcoholic concoction shitty and lardo had cooked up but nonetheless decides he’s sick of the party and goes up to his room and hears.... a little too much

and YIKES he’s standing right there and kent parson, pop star, two-time grammy winner, is looking a little rumpled and staring right at him and he puts his hat on and clears his throat and snaps at jack- “hey. well. call me if you reconsider. but good luck with rhode island. ...i’m sure that’ll make your parents proud.” and jack’s shaking, and bitty doesn’t know what to do but jack goes back into his room and bitty’s just kind of standing there like What The Fuck

so.... he kind of stews over winter break but tries not to think about it too much and he and jack text a bit and jack tells him to practice and bitty’s like “oh, you” and jack’s like “im serious” and bitty’s like “>:( it’s christmas”

spring semester starts and they're doing well in competitions and they go to semifinals and then finals for a prestigious collegiate choir competition and the pressure is mounting but they all are so optimistic and really feel like they're on the same page and bitty’s confidence is better than ever and then.... they don't win

jack especially takes it very hard, but then he also has signing to worry about, which everyone helps him with and he decides to sign with falcon records and start work on an album after graduation

speaking of graduation, shitty and jack graduate and it's hard for them but harder for bitty who feels like he's losing jack in a way, he knows how intense jack gets when he's making music and it doesn't feel like he'll have any time for bitty anymore so when they say goodbye bitty goes back to the haus and listens to his and jack's song and just cries

but, like in canon, dadbob has words of wisdom to impart and jack has an "oh" moment and races across campus to kiss bitty

they get together and the next few months are spent with jack working nonstop on his album (which tbh, he'd had many of the songs written already so it's mostly recording and producing) and texting bitty constantly and coming to visit him and playing him demos of all the songs

jack also asks bitty if they can record the song they wrote together & have it as a bonus track on his album & bitty says of course, so when jack visits they set up an impromptu studio and record vocals in the guest bedroom and this deeply personal song they wrote before they were ever together means so much more to them now

and bitty is so happy but so scared and sad too because jack is playing him these songs telling him "they're all for you bits, & a lot of them are about you" and he just doesn't know how he's going to keep all this love inside even though it feels like jack's career is at stake

he tries to shove it down and stay strong though, especially since he's now an upperclassman and they're taking on new members- connor "whiskey" whisk (voice like finneas or the male singer in valley), a music business/ management major who seems to hate bitty's guts and tony "tango" tangredi (like chaz cardigan), a jazz composition major who astounds everybody with his endless questions but also his ridiculously impressive composition skills & naturally perfect pitch (he can also play saxophone??)

i want ford in this au so fuck it she is a composition major with dreams to write scores for musicals and she stars training as a barista at annie's (aka training to corral the smcc)

the pressure of it all proves to be a lot and bitty and jack have their hi, honey moment where bitty's like i can't be this deep in the closet!!! and so they tell the smcc and also jack's label that they're together and that eases things a bit

jack's album comes out to much critical acclaim and shouting in the groupchat ("#1 ON ITUNES BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!") and several months later, when smcc has already been eliminated from choral competition in an earlier round, jack is nominated for SEVERAL grammys including best album, song of the year, and best new artist

when the time comes he takes his parents and bitty on the red carpet which, everyone keeps being like "who are you here with jack?" and he's like "my family and my good friend :)" and yes it is awkward

jack wins... all three awards. it's the comeback everyone is stoked to see and when his third win is announced, he and bitty are so elated that they kiss before he goes to accept the award

his speech is basically just "um... wow. thank you. i just kissed my boyfriend on live tv. this is amazing and i'm so humbled. i'd like to thank my boyfriend and georgia and marty and my parents and my friends and my boyfriend"

obviously the press has a FIELD DAY with this but bitty & jack are honestly vibing and so happy that it doesn't matter untiiiillll bitty's mom calls and he has to tell her "mama i'm gay and i'm going on tour with jack this summer okloveyoubye"

the last few months of bitty's junior year pass quickly and he's voted student director which is a huge honor considering how much he struggled with stage fright and confidence & how he'll now be stepping into ransom & holster's shoes

r&h and lardo all graduate (the smcc basically crashes the art school graduation and all scream when lardo gets her diploma lmao), which is a bittersweet occasion and they all do a bit of tearing up

that summer bitty goes on tour across the u.s. & canada with jack and his touring band (snowy is a bassist, tater is a drummer and poots does backing guitar, he also brings nursey to play violin on a few songs) as well as georgia who's there to manage logistics

and tour is so fun & chaotic with many bi and rainbow flags in the audience that end up thrown on stage and draped around jack's neck and they spend so many nights in the bus drinking and laughing and fooling around on the guitars and bitty's uke and exploring new cities bitty has never been to before and it's the freest bitty has felt in a long time

summer ends though, and jack leaves for the uk/europe leg of the tour, and with the new school year brings a few new members- river "bully" bullard (voice like gregory alan isakov), a music therapy major who draws his own cover art for his songs, lukas "louis" landmann (like jr jr), an electronic production and design major with a penchant for EDM, and johnathan "hops" hopper (like keiynan lonsdale), a film scoring major who wants to write music for movies and video games

bitty meets and befriends some of the other student directors- shruti, sd of the women’s contemporary chorus; sharon, sd of the chamber choir; and edgar, sd of jazz ensemble (even chad l., sd of the all-male a cappella group)

senior year passes similarly to the comic; coach visits and sees one of bitty’s competitions, jack comes to madison for christmas, smcc does well in competition and goes to regionals etc

however… bitty keeps putting off and putting off gathering the songs for his senior recital

he has a hard time doing that because he’s so focused on the group and making sure they’re performing well and as they advance in competition, everything else starts to fall away

eventually the rest of the smcc has to lock away his uke and change his youtube password and FORCE him to choose songs for it and start preparing because he cannot graduate without doing this recital and doing well on it

he chooses (of course) a beyonce song, a few of his own songs, an ellie goulding song, and an adele song

with all that his breath hitches and his hands shake before he goes on stage, he does really well and his voice instructor prof atley tears up a little in the audience as does his mom

meanwhile smcc goes to semifinals, then finals, of the national collegiate choral competition they participate in

and i imagine bitty faces somewhat less homophobia in this au because i mean, he’s in the performing arts, but i think it’s still there and he also faces a good amount of classism from richer students and performers who think they’re better because they had the resources and money to be performing professionally from a very young age, and he has been practicing via filming himself on a shitty camcorder and posting it to youtube

but they still get there! and the national finals are fucking HUGE and a big deal and a little overwhelming

bitty’s stage fright is Present because this is the biggest stage and the biggest stakes he's ever had and he has a big solo in one of their songs so if he fucks up, he fucks up a national championship for his whole group and school

luckily though, when he steps on the stage with his best friends and sees his boyfriend and family and smcc alums in the audience and they perform their first song, a high-energy pop medley that always gets the crowd going, everything seems to melt away and it's just him living in this moment and singing his heart out

when it gets to the next song and his solo, he forgets to be nervous and belts it out, getting screams of approval from the audience when he finishes

(dex and nursey do have a duet together that they had to practice for many long nights in the practice rooms alone but that's neither here nor there)

their time on stage seems to last both hours and no time at all and then they're done, the crowd gives them a standing ovation and it's at least 30% r&h & shitty's hooting and hollering and jack's enthusiastic clapping that makes bitty & the others beam with pride

then it's just waiting, giddy and nervous beyond belief in their green room, for the judging to be over

after what feels like forever they're back on stage, arms linked together waiting and hoping for their name to be called and it is, they win and it feels like years have built up to this moment, and bitty tears up because years ago when he was fainting from anxiety at having to perform in front of people he never could've imagined that he'd do this, that he'd be the student director that led them to a championship

they get the trophy and a ridiculous amount of flowers from their loved ones and they all are just in giddy disbelief that this is happening, they're national champs!!! they are the best choir boys in the nation!!

they come home and the rest of the school year passes by so quickly that it's very suddenly graduation and bitty can't believe his college career at samwell is over 😢

(he and ollie and wicky take pictures together, o&w talk about how excited they are to devote full time attention to their band & wedding planning and bitty's just like wait you're gay??)

bitty got plenty of offers from record companies but he likes his freedom of creativity and he has a built in fanbase from doing youtube all these years so he decides to make an album independently (jack helps him produce & master it 🥰)

when bitty's album comes out about a year later, full of bops about being gay and in love and having struggled but come out the other side more confident than ever, it doesn't get any grammy nominations- and he didn't expect or need that.

what it does do is it resonates. it makes the rounds in youtube and queer internet circles; people his age reach out to him saying this is the music they wish they had as a kid and kids reach out to him saying he's a role model and they're so glad to have his music to listen to. his album is written about as an underrated gem that shines with queer brilliance and is sure to start a party when it comes on.

his parents may not fully understand the road he's chosen for himself but they're still so proud and promote the album as hard as any of his loyal fans (especially the one country-inspired song on the album that he wrote and dedicated to them).

and jack, jack who saw this album from its infancy to its release date, who took the film photo that ended up being the album cover, who worked with bitty to make sure his vision was realized exactly how he wanted it to be, is proud beyond words.

jack starts using his semi-abandoned twitter again to tweet "stream [album name]" every day and bitty retweets them sometimes, with just a "this boy. ❤"

and they're happy. they're good. they have come so far and they are reaping the rewards of all the hard work they put in to make the music that they truly love.

the end :)

#check please #omgcp #samwell college of music au #mine #my writing #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #omgcp fic #check please fic #zimbits #uhh idk what else to tag #this fucking thing is like 4.1k words i'm-#i hope you enjoy it (and reblog it!) bc i've been working on this for literal years #i know i'll never actually write it as a longform fic so here's a bullet pt fic instead #pls let me know your thoughts i have so many things to say about this au

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dropsofletters · 3 years

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enter for yes, delete for no [wkh]

—summary: “social science is easy. watch me get an ‘a’ on this class”, said wong kunhang, two weeks before failing his first social science test…and horribly.

in light of his new college class making him feel dumber than he really is, and trying to make it through one of his worst economical states ever by balancing three jobs at the same time, kunhang almost loses it when the professor announces that they have to work in trios and make a social science project that is worth 60% of his grade.

great.

now, he’s fucked.

with yukhei by his side, whose eyes divert from the book to scan the library and search for his next love affair, and dejun, who never wanted to be part of his major to start with, he’s left alone with the weight of getting a good grade…

until yukhei’s almost-always silent roommate gives him the idea of the century: a blog. an anonymous blog where he can solve people’s issues. he can do that!

only when he starts to receive submissions from a certain woman does he realize how wrong he was.

—title: enter for yes, delete for no —pairing: wong kunhang x reader —genre: college!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; secret admirer!au ; roommate!au ; unrequited love-ish!au ; slowburn —type: fluff ; angst ; drama ; humor ; suggestive ; crack-ish —word count: around 19k words.

Kunhang thought that when getting into the political sciences major, he would only have to follow through with what he learned in the debate club back in high school. Tight smile, straight shoulders and a good ear for picking up on what people say.

The pamphlet that he read when opting for the college to attend to had never said that he had to have an entire class dedicated to social science. Knowing people, as human beings, individuals that feel and think, sometimes not as rationally as they should, shouldn’t be considered science. Chromosomes and genes? Sure, that’s science. Whatever the hell veterinarians study about dogs and cats? That’s science, too. Experiments based on how people react in social environments?

It’s dumb.

So dumb that Kunhang pushed the fabric of his gray hoodie on his black hair when leaning back on his seat when he attended the first class of social science in his sophomore year of college. The professor, Mr. Sam, sported his tidy and a little-too-small olive-green suit when he spoke to the class and Kunhang turned to look at Yukhei’s horrified expression with a smile on his face.

“Social science is easy,” He started, leaning forward on his seat before tapping his pencil against the wood of his desk. Yukhei scoffed at his words, a beam of his own taking place on his face because Kunhang has his moments of being too overconfident, and that coming from Wong Yukhei? It was grand. “Watch me get an ‘A’ on this class.”

Dejun sighed from his spot, the long and brown strands of his hair moving with the warm air that left his lips as he continued to scribble down some notes with as much furiousness as he could muster. “It’s not as easy.”

Humming, the tallest agreed. “I can finally say Dejun is right about something.”

The glare that Dejun threw to his friends was worthy of a picture, but Kunhang was the worst of them all, crossing his arms behind his back as he stared at the PowerPoint presentation with little to no interest.

“What’s so difficult about science that is based on people just talking to each other? I’ll get an A. Without studying, even.”

No one told him then, when he had spent most of his time studying for other classes and working his three jobs, that social science with Mr. Sam was a nightmare. Even a demon seen through sleep paralysis could be less scary that the beam the professor wore the day he decided to publish the grades of the first test of the class, delivering the pieces of paper one by one on top of his student’s desks.

Kunhang’s soft fingertips touch the surface of his test, turning it around and expecting to see—at the very least—a ninety-eight out of a hundred. Though, his chestnut eyes widen fractions that couldn’t even be measured when he sees his real grade.

“I had a laugh, Mr. Wong, dare I admit.” Mr. Sam says from his position next to him, fixing the rounded glasses that rest on the crooked base of his nose. The chuckle that leaves his lips annoys Kunhang to bits, taking in a breath. He can’t finish this class if he kills the professor, right? “One would think with how much you talk; you’d know more about social sciences…but that’s all you are, aren’t you?” The class falls silent, the student munching on his bottom lip to muffle the curses that threaten to leave his lips. “All talk won’t work for my class. Do better.”

With that, he hears a few muffled whispers and laughs around the class. Excellence was nitpicked in this exam, tainting his ego even further when he looks over his shoulder to see Yukhei’s grade.

“You got a seventy-two?!” Kunhang exclaims in a whisper, taking Yukhei’s test in between his hands.

Yukhei runs his fingers through his recently bleached blonde locks before shrugging. “I kind of had a date last weekend and she had passed this class. I was in her dorm and she repaid me with her notes from last semester.” The smugness in his voice has Dejun rolling his sharp eyes.

“Repay you for what, exactly?” Dejun questions, voice piercing, but Kunhang is not even half interested in the argument ensuing, mind roaming the sceneries of insecurity, jealousy, hatred…perhaps at himself or at this ridiculing teacher.

“I’m not allowed to say.” Yukhei replies, leaning on his desk towards Dejun, making sure to wink at him. “But I’m allowed to show you, if you’d like, bro.”

“Gross.”

Kunhang cuts through the conversation easily enough, not quite catching up with the bantering ways that surround the friend group. “How much did you get, Dejun?”

With that, the man whose drained ways have started to show on his deep eye-bags and the amount of time he spends studying, finally smiles. “I got a 99.”

And Kunhang got a 24. Fucking great.

In the scale of dumbasses, he’s right at the bottom. Even under the guys who copy and paste Google quotes on their social medias and get offended when someone calls them out because that quote is definitely not theirs, as they pride themselves in.

“No fucking way!” Kunhang lets out, his hand grasping Dejun’s test before he feels Yukhei’s breath ghosting over his shoulder.

“Who the fuck is Oaix Nujed?” The question almost seems to hold the answer to life in the way Yukhei spits it out, but it’s easy to catch up on what Yukhei didn’t understand at the time.

Kunhang turns the test around, Dejun’s alter-ego (eh-hem, Oaix Nujed) long forgotten and replaced for his real name. And his grade that stands in sixty-six.

“Shit,” Yukhei curses just as Dejun’s face pales, his thick eyebrows furrowed when he takes the test in between his hands. “I got the best grade out of all of us?!”

This can’t be.

N0. No. No.

Kunhang is certain he answered everything with a bit of logic. He read some here and there, that should be enough to pass a test. He’s sure Yukhei couldn’t do magic tricks with the notes his latest love affair gave him—

Mr. Sam stands in front of the class, his salt and pepper hair pushed to the front of his bald head to hide what is utterly obvious. He purses his lips when he fixes his jacket and speaks to the class. “The test was horrid. I even started to wonder how you made it to your sophomore year.” Well, Kunhang knows the answer. Hard work, paying taxes when it’s due, and with a lot of frustration. Example one, this moment. “So, to help you out, I’m going to reduce the percentage of value of the tests. I want you to familiarize yourself with the importance of social science, much more in the major you find yourselves in.” He breathes out, sitting at the edge of his desk. “I want a project. A social science project. Show me how people react when having relationships with other—friendships, enemies, whatever it is that interests you. With a basement of a hypothesis already done, of course. I don’t want anything from Freud because…it’s too simple. I need you to perfect it as if it was your thesis and I want it for the end of the class. Three months from now, that is.”

Okay, so he has a chance. He just has to think of a project that is not based on Freud and that shows the importance of society and their unions. If people went through this class and they didn’t die in the process, he could do it.

Right?

“I want it to be in trios and for you to show three different perspectives. You apply the same experiment but you have different thoughts about it. Conclusions, let’s call it.”

One of the girls in the class, with vibrant red hair and a black turtleneck, raises her hand in the air. “What if our conclusions are the same?”

“They can’t be.” Mr. Sam shrugs. “It’s social science. We don’t all enjoy the same relationships or friendships in one way or with just one group of people. Let’s say, if I see one word that is similar, I won’t even read the project. It’ll be a zero.”

Dejun clears his throat when he asks for the professor’s attention. “Will we be picking our groups or will you—?”

Mr. Sam interrupts him before he could continue, typical of him. His intelligence dares barricade his humongous ego. “I’ll let you guys work with whoever you want,” He fixes his folders and places them inside his backpack before chuckling softly. “I’m assuming Dummy, Dumb and Dumber are going to work together. Is that what this is all about?”

His nostrils expand the slightest when he presses his lips in a tight line. His mother has taught him how to respect elders, but if Mr. Sam just casually slipped and went down the flight of stairs in their building, with a car coincidentally passing over his face and killing him in the process…it may just not make him sad.

Yukhei whispers in the slightest deep vibrato. “Well, that’s new. Now, I’m Dummy. Normally, Dejun is—”

“I’m not Dummy, Dumb or Dumber.” Dejun shakes his head, on the verge of snapping at Yukhei. Well, he already did. “This man is just crazy.”

Kunhang nods at his words. “We agree on something, pal.”

“You know what? Yes. He’s a bit crazy.” Yukhei admits, placing his hand on top of Kunhang’s desk, the separation between Dejun and himself. “But I know a lot of people who had this class with him. From our major and other majors. It’s going to be fine. I still have those girl’s notes and my roommate is extra good at this kind of thing. She’ll help us out.”

Ambition fills his lungs when he hums along to Yukhei’s words. “I think Kun can help us, too.” Remembering the guy he works with, recently graduated, he taps his fingers against the desk. “We’re not going to let this man grade us that badly again. I don’t care how we’re doing it, but we’re getting a hundred on that project and he’ll have to suck my dick if he doesn’t give me that grade.”

“Oh man,” Yukhei says, laughter following his statement. “Kunhang is, for real, angry. He never talks about getting his dick sucked and now he wants Mr. Sam to do it for him.” Clasping his hands in front of him, he chuckles when Kunhang slaps the back of his head. “Aw, that’s so cute. Celibate and all, you’re a cutie.”

“Democratic vote to kick Yukhei out of our group.” Kunhang states, raising his hand at the same time that Dejun does, only to have Yukhei’s smile dissipating.

Well, at least he has his friends while going through this hell, scalding him with disappointment.

“You’re just jealous I’m Dummy.”

###

Four in the morning and Kunhang is already slipping into a cold shower. By six, he’s already out of the door and towards his first job of the day. With an apron wrapped around his waist, he serves coffees to people who dare say they are sleep deprived, but his eyes almost feel like they glue together from his hard work.

He’s out of there by eleven, with his feet moving incessantly on his bicycle to get to his first set of classes. Schedule arranged to take up his college courses from twelve in the afternoon and four, he gets out of his classes with homework to fulfill and another job to take care of.

By five, he waters Mrs. Ling’s plants. Makes sure to sings a tune to them or talk in order to get extra points with the older woman, who smiles at him when he gets out of the door only thirty minutes later. Once again, Kunhang finds himself in his bicycle and he rushes over to the restaurant he works in from six to nine at night. That’s where Kun is a dishwasher, just like him, trying to meet ends before he finds his first real job.

Just when he’s out, he gets enough time to study and do homework. Surprise, surprise, it’s never enough. He’s dozing off by twelve, working through his projects with expertise before he repeats the cycle again. Four hours of sleep, three jobs, classes, tests, sophomore year and a social life, if it’s after nine at night.

Three months is not enough time for him to think about a project, let alone work on it. Dejun has a job of his own—though, he takes care of children on his free time—and he’s as studious as he can get, but Kunhang just can’t play the asshole card and let all responsibilities fall on his shoulders. The thought makes him rub on the dishes with more force, his uniform splashed by droplets of water.

Yukhei could think about it—he’s got enough wit to do something, but he’s not as good in redacting something. His big eyes can stare into a Word document and not think about anything for hours. He could be in charge of tracking, excel sheets and graphics, but writing is just a big no.

If Dejun hasn’t had an idea in two weeks, as he said earlier when he saw him in class, he’s sure Yukhei doesn’t either.

And he sure as hell hasn’t had any time to think about it either.

With a pleading tone and jazz music in the background, his thin lips wrap around every edge of his words, his black hair falling across his slim face while he expresses his worries to Kun. Said man is more relaxed, not thinking about studying anymore but with a permanent frown when being denied the opportunity of trying by the real world. His degree dusts itself off in his apartment while he waits for a chance.

“I need you to give me an idea so I can develop it.”

Responsible lines of upright nature join and thread to make Kun’s shell. He raises one eyebrow, shaking his head when he chuckles softly. “No.”

Think of the pain of stepping on four Lego pieces at the same time. Yeah, that wouldn’t even compare to what Kunhang feels right at this moment. “Dude, don’t be an ass. I really have no idea what to do and my tests are going horribly—”

Kun sighs deeply, leaning his taut waist against the edge of the counter near the dishwasher. “It’s s0cial sciences, Kunhang. If I help you out, there is nothing that you will learn. You need to learn the root of social archetypes and correlations to be able to get a nice grade, and you won’t do that if I just help you.”

Alright, so, maybe, Kunhang is physically and mentally drained. He manages to be good in other classes—studies in between the times he has free and gives up his social life on the slightest bit just to be able to meet ends, but failing a class is something he can’t give himself the benefit of. He’s tight on money, and his face won’t be tranquil enough to tell his mom that he failed.

“I’m just asking you to give me an idea for the project,” Kunhang tries to convince the older man. “You didn’t have a class with this asshole. He’s gone through four divorces, man. Not a single woman can stand his faulty, stupid ass and that’s factual.”

Blinking, even his coworker seems surprised. The truth is…Mr. Sam is entire textbook-based. If he sees a comma, he wants you to write that comma on the test. Logic aside, he wants investigations, hypothesis, an entire project written on your test without a single ounce of your train of thoughts. Or, if you mask it as such, it has to be quoted from someone else. It’s tiring.

Yukhei is a memory learner. If he repeats words for a long period of time, he will learn them, a bit out of order, but his mind is skillful enough for that. Maybe, that’s why he does so great in this class.

“I just…I don’t know, man. I want you to feel the gratitude of doing this on your own.” Kun spits out, only to have Kunhang scoffing.

“I just want to pass.” Swatting his hands to watch the droplets of water fall away from them, cold in the freezing kitchen, he sighs. “I don’t care about learning because that man leaves no room for learning. He thinks he’s it. He’s worthy of writing a hundred textbooks because he’s that smart.”

“I can give you some textbooks, but I really don’t have the time to sit down and think about an idea. Sorry.” He can’t blame him, but somehow, he does. His options are running short and Yukhei, the star of the class, still hasn’t had his grand idea. Kun’s plate—metaphorically speaking, the plates are clean in this restaurant—is filled with a little too much stress right at this moment, and Kunhang can’t just beg him to go back to the pressure that comes from college projects. “I’ll bring them to you tomorrow. I know how packed your schedule is.”

He has no fucking idea. His body giving up on him, his knuckles almost become white when he leans his weight forward and grasps the edge of the counter in between his hands. A tired breath accompanies his dizzy mind, migraine thumping at the back of his eyelids. At the verge of giving up, he bites down on his lip, nodding once and returning to his positive ways.

Yukhei’s roommate is his only option.

###

Truth be told, the only good thing about working three jobs and having an apartment of his own, is that the money is worth it. He doesn’t have to deal with someone’s noise, one-night stands and the horrid walks of shame, and he definitely doesn’t have to hear one of his best friends screaming at the top of his lungs as he plays videogames and completely ignores the assignment at hand.

Sure, ten at night is not exactly the perfect moment to work on a project, but it’s the only time Kunhang has had free and he studied ahead of this Friday night just to be able to be here, at Yukhei’s place. Yangyang, one of Yukhei’s roommates, is playing around with the blender at the kitchen, making God-knows-what for the past fifteen minutes, stopping his ministrations to try the concoction before going back to the awful noise again. In any other occasion, Kunhang would have played along, nodded along to the beat of Yangyang’s dubstep blending…

Yet, for the first time in twenty-one years, Kunhang can say one thing…

He’s more stressed than Dejun.

Dejun flips one page to continue reading his textbook, his hair done a mess and his lips forever closed as he stares between his notes and one of the books Kun lent them. Still, not an idea has ensued. Maybe, he can blame it on the fact that Dejun’s girlfriend had just called him and created a scene out of him not being with her on a Friday night, jealousy pouring from her every word and Dejun’s eyebrows forever petrified in a frown growing even deeper.

None of the trio are on it today.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Yukhei curses, moving his controller to one side as his big eyes concentrate on the screen. “Babe, could you help me over here? I’m about to get killed.”

Oh, so that’s why. Kunhang could almost chuckle at that moment, had it not been for his comfortable position on the couch next to Yukhei, with one leg resting on the armrest and his eyes trained on a textbook he doesn’t give two shits about. Yukhei has completely forgotten about social sciences girl and now he’s with a gamer girl. From the faint distance, he hears a light giggle and a sweet tone.

This is definitely going nowhere.

“Found anything, Dejun?” Kunhang asks, finally straightening his back to hear every bone crack into place. When is the last time he took a nap and rested his back properly? He’s not sure.

Absentmindedly, the man’s brown eyes claim Kunhang’s attention, barely even there when he hums. “Not really. Kun’s textbooks are fine, but I asked around the class to see what topics people have picked and they’re all written down here. We need to come up with something else.”

Great. Now they’re behind everyone. “Alright,” Growing tired of waiting, Kunhang stands up, throwing his oversized bomber jacket on top of his white t-shirt, paired with comfortable basketball shorts and sneakers. “Yukhei.”

No answer.

“Yukhei!” Kunhang says louder, though Yukhei is still very much playing around with his PlayStation. Patience running low, he takes the headphones away from Yukhei’s ears, putting them around his head before speaking. “Listen, I know he looks cute in his profile picture and that you may think he’s the biggest catch in the world, but I really need you to stop flirting with him for two seconds so I can have him put, at least, a grain of knowledge into this project we’re making. It’s not you, it’s not me, it’s Wong Yukhei and his dick that keeps slipping out of his pants. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Hey!” Never had he heard Yukhei’s low voice grow so high, pausing his game to stand up and place his hands on his hips. “Don’t talk to GameOn187 like that.”

“Oh, GameOn187 doesn’t mind the slightest bit.” Kunhang crosses his arms across his chest, laughing at Yukhei’s antics. Okay, he was angry one second ago, but seeing Yukhei be so serious about someone he doesn’t even know the name of is hilarious. “Where’s your roommate?”

With that, worry grows on the man’s face, grasping his phone in between his hands and frowning at the time. “She told me she was outside fifteen minutes ago. She must’ve come back from her date by now.”

His stomach churns, twists in worry when he takes Yukhei’s keys in between his fingers and speaks over the noise of the game and the blender. “I’m going to look for her.”

“Do you need me to go with you?” Yukhei could fall in love as easily as he grew in high school, but that doesn’t mean his care and attention doesn’t go to his best friend and roommate.

With the starry night, blinding street lights and the college students drinking around the building in this Friday night, he’s sure he won’t need accompaniment. “I’ll be fine. I—I just need to look for her, get her home and make sure she helps us out.”

That’s how the cold night bites at the skin of his calves, long hair sweeping away from his face to showcase his worried eyes. Yukhei’s roommate may not be his closest friend, but glimpses of her in high school come back to his brain. Sweet, shy, a bit soft. The change happened when she suddenly grew dull, strong, collected and silent by the time college came around. Never had they connected on a level deeper than a few conversations and their shared interest for Yukhei’s wellbeing.

But he knows that not appearing for fifteen minutes after instructing she was outside is not a good thing. He greets some of the English majors by the entrance, drinking from bottles of beer with electric cigarettes dangling from their lips, but that doesn’t take his attention away from the quickened movement of his legs as he screams out her name.

Heart racing, eyebrows scrunched and eyes set everywhere and anywhere, he’s midway through the entrance, almost towards the street when he sees her. Leaning against the brick walls of the apartment complex for students, her back bent as her date relishes on kissing her like a madman, hungry for more of her. His hands go up and down her back, opening and closing when he leans his abdomen forward and pushes her more into the wall.

With how into it the taller man with a slim waist and buff arms is, Kunhang almost wants to look away.

Though, then he sees her. Her lips are moving, softly, delicately, not quite catching up to what her date is doing, taking more of her as if she owes it to him. Thus, her eyes are opened, lifelessly staring at the man with confusion, as if trying to understand the situation she’s in. Her hands rest on his shoulders, halfway through pushing him away or tugging him closer. Confusion and tenderness bathes over her features, clearly giving him a sign that she may not understand but he does.

She’s not into the kiss.

So, he calls out her name, loud and clear, powerful enough to make the man kissing her pull away from her, a scaredy cat in the making. She rubs her mouth with the back of her hand, the saliva glistening against her lips almost making him laugh.

Well, that doesn’t seem like a good kiss.

“We were looking for you.” Kunhang says, voice tranquil, barely jutting his chin towards her date as a greeting before trailing her eyes over her worried expression. “Yukhei and I. Want to come home now?”

Her date opens his thick lips to say something, his hipster hairstyle—shaved by the sides, sleeked back by gel—touched by the wind when she presses a hand to his taut chest. “Sorry, Leo, I think you should go.”

The man looks at her with the gaze of a man who wants something more and maybe, he’ll beg for it just to get a taste of her. “Want to take me to my car, then?”

She looks into his eyes, doubting, staring at the car with little to no longing before shaking her head. “I have to study.” Her excuse is as clear as day, but Kunhang doubts the asshole by her side even notices her reactions. If he couldn’t tell she wasn’t into that horrible kiss, then he’s not perceptive at all. “Text me once you get home, alright?”

The buff man quirks an eyebrow towards Kunhang, moving backwards as he gets the keys of his expensive car out. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I didn’t tell you.” Kunhang answers, shrugging his shoulders when she moves to his side. For some reason, he can’t understand how someone as beautiful as her could go for the most simplistic man out there. Like everyone else in college, if not worse. And dumb, at that. “…It’s Kunhang.”

“Take care of my girl, will you?”

Scoffing, Kunhang chuckles soon after. “I think she can take care of herself perfectly well.” And he does, her change of character had only made her stronger, more reliable, though glimpses of that shy student he once knew in high school existed within her.

By the time the man’s car parked off and weaved through the streets in a rushed manner, Kunhang turns to look at her, resting his hand in between her shoulder blades to move her forward.

She walks alongside him, cladded in some beige shorts, a tight black shirt and a dark denim jacket. Unlike what she wears on most occasions, with boots tall enough to be killing her, but it’s a change of style. Glimmering beauty making him have a second take before smiling to himself.

“You weren’t into that kiss at all, were you?”

That question has her licking her bottom lip, the street lights casting down on her features before she shrugs. “Make outs should feel a bit disgusting, don’t they?” The question at the end lets him know about her insecurity, shoes dragging across the flooring. “I mean, it’s a mess of tongues against tongues and teeth and sucking and biting. That’s…meant to be gross at some point.”

Disagreeing completely, he shakes his head, resting his cold fingertips inside the pockets of his jacket before sighing. “Take a seat,” Upon seeing a set of stairs that leads to the entrance, the two of them sit on the concrete, eyes staring at the road ahead of them. Silent, until Kunhang speaks up again. “Kisses aren’t meant to feel gross. At all. If you are really into someone, it’s going to feel…sweet, you won’t even have to think about opening your eyes because you’re too entranced in the moment.”

Her cheekbones lift up when she smiles at him, resting her hand on her palm, elbow resting on her knees. “I didn’t open my eyes because of t—that…” Once again, she’s looking for excuses, blinking rapidly in the process. “I, shit, I can’t believe you saw me make out with someone.”

“Leo.” Kunhang corrects. “Why did Leo make you open your eyes, according to you?”

A sigh leaves her lips. “I guess I wanted to see how he looked like when he kissed me. I don’t know.” She replies, growing raged by her own answer. She drops her hands on her lap, looking down at them.

That’s not unusual. Some people just want to see how the other person looks like, but by the way they kissed each other with so much difference in approach, Kunhang could guess two things. It was one of their first kisses, first and foremost. And, none of them tried to meet at the middle; Leo asking for too much, while she asked for too little.

“Okay, okay!” Kunhang says, lifting his hands in the air. “Let’s say I believe you. What did you feel when you saw him kissing you?”

“Kunhang, really. It’s not that deep—”

“It is,” He finalizes for her. “I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen you date anyone. Not once. You’re always so secretive about it. I know you’re not the kind to kiss where everyone can see you and you definitely are not the type to go for the most simplistic guy in the entire campus.”

That makes her laugh. “I didn’t meet him at the campus. I met him at my workplace.”

Oh, right. Yukhei always talks about his free yoga classes coupon that she gets him each month as a gift. She’s a receptionist at one of the gyms near the campus. “Fair enough, he’s a gym rat. I can see it. But what did Leo make you feel—?”

“I don’t know, he just looked weird!” Exasperated, she replies, a laugh leaving her after she says those words. “That should be normal. I’m sure it’s not impossible for me to be one of the few people who just don’t like kissing or think the person is cute but when they kiss them, they lose interest entirely. No one looks attractive while kissing someone.”

A thought crosses Kunhang’s head, a memory that he pushes to the back of his brain when his eyes claim each portion of her face with the drag of his pupils. “I think you’re wrong.” He whispers. “You’re always so uptight and proper, so difficult to approach, but you bend to a man’s will when you’re not even attracted to him.”

“He’s okay—”

“Okay is not enough for kissing someone.” Nudging her side with his elbow, he watches her lift her gaze, eyes connecting with her own when he sighs out of his words. “Listen, I know Yukhei should be the one to tell you this but he’s not the best of examples. Just because you’re young doesn’t mean that you have to do things just to do them. You get the benefit of feeling nice when you’re kissing someone, to want more, to not feel like lying to someone just to end a date. That’s not how attraction feels like.”

She shrugs, the night washing her down when she leans back on the stair and stares at the night sky. “What if I never feel like that for someone approachable?”

That takes the words out of his mouth for a second, turning to look at the stars as well. They twinkle, bright and clear, when he says: “I doubt you couldn’t get whoever you want.” He initiates. “Good legs and a nice smile? You’ll get any man you want.”

Deep is the laugh that leaves her lips, twirling her thumbs in between her fingers before whistling. “You’re really good at reading people, you know that?”

“Tell that to my social sciences teacher. I’m failing the class.”

A movement from her has their knees colliding, plastered to his side when she asks: “You’re failing Mr. Sam’s class?”

“He’s impossible.” He says, looking into her eyes and letting his smile fall at the memory of such class.

“Oh, tell that to his four ex-wives. He really is.” She conquers, but she swats her hand in the air soon after. “He’s all talk, though. I got a 98 in his class.”

“How?” Kunhang questions.

As if giving the elixir to a happy life, she quirks an eyebrow. “Just take what the textbooks say and apply it to our society. What you know best. In my case, I did a project about the repercussions of college on stressed students and what the root of societal norms do to craft impossible expectations, correlated to ‘all-or-nothing’ personalities and procrastinators.” The explanation of her project has his head thumping. Well, she is smart, he’ll give her that. Though not smart enough not to go out with a man like flavorless-ass Leo. “Dejun was one of my experiments and yes, his college life makes his very unhappy but that’s far away from the case—”

“What do you think I could do?” He expands his hand on top of his heart. “I truly have no idea.”

Her lips purse as she studies him, thinking for a moment before snapping her fingers together. “A blog.” She says. “Make an anonymous blog where you solve people’s issues, just like you did to me. Read people and tell them your opinion and see what’s the most common issue in selected age groups. For example, most 50-year-olds in your blog expressed issues with divorce and erectile disfunction while most 20-year-olds expressed parental issues and lack of knowledge on what their future holds for them.”

Denial almost slips from his lips, but the more he thinks about it, the more interested he is. Advice from Kunhang had been thrown around in between laughter, mostly shrugged off because he’s just some funny guy trying to take care of his friends, but then, it settles on him. He’s good at reading people, and his advice, while being anonymous, may be even better without the construction of walls of shame and dignity.

Taking her face in between his hands, he places a short peck to her forehead, standing up from the flight of stairs when he shouts out: “That’s brilliant!”

“Thanks.” She chuckles, slower in her movements when moving away from the staircase and next to him through the apartment complex.

“I’m going to tell Dejun so we can start working on the website today and Yukhei has a bunch of followers on Instagram. We can definitely find a proper following and get this going this week—”

Laughing, she adds: “See? Social sciences aren’t so bad after all.”

###

Demographics are insane. Five thousand Instagram followers from Yukhei plus the word spread around the campus in the past three days and now they have over one thousand messages to reply to. All in three motherfucking days.

The website had been coded by Dejun himself, simplistic, with the layout made for people to read the forum but to be unable to comment on what other people say or do. Against hate, of course. The only people who are able to talk are the administrations—Dejun, Yukhei and Kunhang, but even then, when he sees the inbox while standing in Dejun’s bedroom, he feels like throwing up.

“Wow,” Kunhang says, a smile taking over his features as he stands to Dejun’s right, Yukhei taking the spot on the left. “Well, we have to get to working.”

“How exactly are we going to get through over a thousand messages? And counting.” Yukhei says, watching another notification pop up from the corner of the website. “Listen, we can’t solve everyone’s issues…and leaving some outside would give us a bad reputation.”

Always the organizer, Dejun snaps a sheet of paper away from his agenda, clicking on his pen a few times, trying it out on the paper before sighing. “We’ll take turns and we’ll close the inbox by now. Each of us will personally respond to different messages, fifty at a time.” Jotting that down, he scribbles his friend’s names. “Yukhei will take the morning hours, considering that he’s free most mornings. I’ll take the afternoon time because I’m taking care of the kids by that time and Kunhang can take the night shift, respond to fifty messages himself.”

“That’s a lot of work.” Yukhei announces, but Kunhang chuckles.

“And a lot of data. This is a big project.” Kunhang finalizes. “How many days would it take us to get through all the messages?”

“We’d be responding to one hundred and fifty messages per day,” Lost in mathematics, Dejun clicks his pen one last time before hanging the piece of paper on the corner of his computer screen, glued by a bit of tape. “So, it would take us around a week, and that should be it.”

That just means they wouldn’t have to take in that much more data. One week worth of hard work and then, the only thing they would have to do is write down the project.

“Let’s do it, then.” Kunhang announces, looking down at his watch before clicking his tongue. “After I study for my final. See you guys!”

###

“Ugh, I can’t stand him. I really can’t.”

She stops wiping the main counter of the gym to watch Chaeryeong dabbing some sweat from the connection between her hairline and her forehead away with a towel. Her short black hair rests on her toned arms, her tattoo displayed on her left forearm, body cladded in her gym clothes. From the far distance, she sees Dejun rushing through his last set of push-ups before getting out the door, without even saying goodbye to his girlfriend.

Chaeryeong is a trainer here, though that’s not how he met her. They studied together during their first semester, before Chaeryeong decided that studying wasn’t her thing and dropped out completely. In between her family’s judgement and her growing relationship with Dejun, she decided to go that extra mile and start lifting weights. Buff arms and legs accompanied her, paired with her strong features and slim lips.

But what had once been the love story everyone envied now seems to be falling down. Stopping her ministrations, she leans forward on the counter to speak to her more privately. “He was just working out, Chaeryeong, he’s doing his best.”

“But he said he was going to be here two hours and thirty minutes later, he says he has to work on another project!” Chaeryeong whines, gulping down the rest of her water bottle before crushing the plastic in between her palms. Now, that’s anger. “He doesn’t even have time for me anymore and hear me out, girl, I was checking his Instagram the other night as I stayed over in his place and some bitch sent him a DM saying ‘you’re so hot’. I think the fuck not. I have all the right to be mad at him.”

Chaeryeong supports her friends much like she does her weights, but her personality goes from zero to infinity. It’s up to her to calm her friend down, hand extending to rest on top of her calloused hand. “Babe, Dejun loves you. He even gave you a promise ring and all. He’s just been really busy and that’s why he hasn’t been around as much as you want him to. After all, he’s in his sophomore year. We’re all busy around this time.”

Nodding, her friend continues her train of thought: “So, what about the girl?”

That topic is a little bit more difficult to treat, veins popping out of her neck the slightest out of the pressure building inside of her. A red jealousy monster at times…that she is. “He’s nice looking. Was she a senior?”

“Freshman.”

“Even worse,” She spits out, returning to her rubbing against the desk. “Freshmen are excited to finally be in college and they’re a little bit out there. Does he follow her?”

Chaeryeong shakes her head.

“Has he replied?”

Once again, the answer is no.

“Then, why are you worrying?”

“Because he didn’t tell me! I only saw the DM; he didn’t even want to tell me on the first place!” Chaeryeong marks her truth out with every elongation and punctuation of her words. “I appreciate your honesty, but if Dejun even dares cheating on me, I’m out. I’m not here for him to get angry at me when he has been the one who is distant and—”

From the corner of her eye, she sees a familiar figure entering the gym. A white t-shirt clings to every curve of his trained yet slim chest, pale skin plastered in some moles around his neck, thick lips curved into a smile, cheeks as tinted as the pink shorts he wears today. Zhang Leo, who had once asked her out while entering the gym two years ago, slim as ever, and had grown some muscle after a while, perseverant enough to get her out on a date.

Only a few seconds pass by when her knees duck and she’s hidden behind the desk, Chaeryeong stopping on her rambles when she mumbles: “W—What? What happened?”

“Leo is here.”

“Shit, let me cover you.”

Blame it on curiousness and a lonesome night that ended up with her saying yes not to one, but to three dates. Leo had persisted, ridiculously proud of going out with her but still, not daring to speak about himself but what he wanted to do with her instead. It was tiring, barely able to make her heart race past the initial fear of kissing him. Then, came blankness, exasperating dullness that she can’t get rid of, much like she can’t get rid of Leo.

The man moves towards the desk she hides behind of, expanding one hand on top of it as he speaks to Chaeryeong. The first thing he does is call out her name. “Where’s my girl?”

My girl, he says, even though she’s totally sure that’s a noun he uses for plenty of women. “Been throwing up like crazy since last night. She isn’t working today.”

Clinging closer to the desk, she sincerely hopes Leo doesn’t dare look to the left, because he could get a glimpse of her in this immaculate, big gray gym. “That’s weird.” Patting his hand against the desk, he adds: “Tell her to call me, okay? I’ll get tired of her if she keeps running away.”

Though, by the time he has left, she barely hears Chaeryeong’s voice mouthing out a small:

“Asshole.” She says. “Darling, you really don’t have to go out with an asshole like that, you know that? You definitely can get better.”

And that’s the set of words that cling to every corner of her mind for the rest of the evening. Even when she’s walking home after taking the bus, all she can think about is how romance is never fitted for her. Never had she felt love for someone, or the romantic kind, at least. Never had she been swept off her feet other than with a character on the screen. Never had she enjoyed a kiss as much as she did one time, and it wasn’t even a real kiss to begin with.

Her mind wonders—had love been created just to bring hope to people? Or was it misery that cladded the word and made it impossible to find these days? Had the people who had fallen in love in the past, hard and fast, with utmost sincerity, held onto the doubts that cover her every being?

If love was a word everyone understood, why was it so different for everyone?

If everyone was capable of loving, why was it difficult to find someone who loved her how she wanted to be loved?

Why couldn’t she love anyone, on the first place?

Speaking out those thoughts to her friends is the least she wants to do. None of them would find an answer—too entranced in their own issues. She can’t ask them to understand her, when she can’t do it herself. So, with a notification from Yukhei’s Instagram account from one day ago, her finger taps on his story, getting a few seconds to read the ‘swipe up’ message.

The Experience Club, get advice from people who have gone through it all!

Well, it’s worth a try. Besides, none of them would really know it’s her, after all.

Her fingers move with precision on the screen to write down the message on the big white box.

Dear ‘The Experience Club’,

I’ve never fallen in love with anyone and I feel pressured to do it thanks to my age. Though, all I’ve managed to meet are a bunch of dumbasses. I don’t know if it’s a me-issue, making me the type to attract assholes, or if it’s all them.

Should I feel ashamed of not having fallen in love? Or, even better, should I grow used to not feeling entirely attracted to someone because there is not such thing as a middle-half? I know people have flaws, I don’t expect someone to be perfect, but I thought, at least, my partner’s imperfections would suit me and be, somewhat, acceptable.

Maybe, I’m too impatient or selective, I’m not sure.

Please, help someone out.

Sincerely,

Loveless Anon.

###

“Mom, I promise, I’m fine.”

With his phone perched between his slim shoulder and his cheek, his fingertips continue to trail on the keyboard of his half-functioning laptop to finish the essay he should have finished a week ago. A plate of cold noodles settles on the side of his coffee table, back hunched beyond relief as he listens to the faint sound of a Post Malone song in the background.

Fine.

Spectacular.

Kunhang couldn’t be better.

But as he hears his mother shuffling around on the other end of the call, his ears become wary, trying to distinguish the almost imperceptible noise. “I’m sure you can do this and much more, Kunhang.” Dulcet as ever in her tone, she continues as Kunhang resumes his furious tapping. “See, baby, I’m moving your sisters’ degrees away to get that special spot for you in my living room. I want everyone to see my political scientist boy.”

His heart squeezes against his ribcage, stealing his breath away when his phone almost falls off his shoulder. Little does she know he’s halfway through failing a class for the first time, balancing three jobs and still, on the verge of paying another class with Mr. Sam. As if education wasn’t expensive enough.

“You didn’t have to—”

“You’re my boy, of course, I had to.” Stubborn, his mom continues. “You sound tired, Kunhang.”

“I already said I’m fine.” He grumbles, not meaning to sound as annoyed as he does. Truth be told—it’s the annoyance he has at himself. How fucking difficult is it to get over sixty on a test? He does fine on his other classes!

“Two jobs and studying are a lot of things, Kunhang. You used to be brighter.”

Sighing deeply, he puts the last word down on his essay, opening his Gmail and writing down some simplistic greeting before turning his work in. If only his mom knew about the third job…

“Just a bad day, mom.” Rubbing his eyes, he tries not to let his voice break. What about some bad months? Would it be too much to tell her the truth? “I have another project to work in, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to call you until tomorrow night. If you’re up, that is.”

“I’ll stay up for you.”

A smile plasters on his features. There will never be a love as beautiful as the one that comes from a good mother. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to.” She says. “Unless you’re playing this victim card so your mom doesn’t call you.”

“I could never.” His fingers hover over the mouse before clicking on The Experience Club’s website, the white color almost making his irises burn.

“How’s Yukhei doing?”

Typical guy who earns a spot in moms’ hearts. “I think he’s out with someone right now,” In light of Yukhei’s usual personality. “I haven’t really texted him today, but he’s doing fine.”

A little bit more talking ensues in between his mother and himself until he hears her yawn, loud and clear, barely getting a few words out when she excuses herself to go to bed. Not like he could do such thing, he has fifty letters to go through that he has to answer as soon as possible.

Forty-seven letters later and he has three hours to sleep when he feels his body melting into the seat, eyelids closing before he opens them widely. That jolts him awake, clicking on another letter to read through it.

Loveless Anon.

As he reads through the passages of questions and insecurities, he becomes awfully aware of his own vision of love. One year ago, one would see him tagging along with Yukhei, earning the attention of one or two women, responding to texts and being on social media. Then, came his shortage in salary and he had to add another job to his list. Working at a café was far more difficult than people thought.

Each day, he saw people flirting, he saw relationships blossom, but never had he stopped once and thought love was for him. Sure, he knew one day would come that he’d fall for someone…but he didn’t know how it feels. Great, he has felt comfortable enough in the relationships he has been in, but they have never been the greatest, making him think about the future.

With his mouse hovering over his answer, he starts typing:

Dear Loveless Anon,

Welcome to the Club, first and foremost. Truth be told, this had me thinking for a bit. I think love is something we’re allowed to feel, but we’re not meant to go through it per say. We decide if we want to do it or not, so being selective is never a bad thing.

Do I think it’s humanly impossible for someone to never feel love? Maybe. I think you’re just looking in the wrong place—or, perhaps, that is where you go wrong. You’re looking, you’re not exactly waiting for it and taking your chances.

Here’s a question: Do you look for a shooting star or do you get surprised when it arrives and make a wish?

It’s a one in a lifetime thing. Most people haven’t seen a shooting star, but they have seen planes fly by or starts that twinkle in different lights…and that, in the night sky, looks similar. Not all of us are shooting stars, but we’re shooting stars for someone.

Lighten up! I think you haven’t noticed you don’t have to settle for someone who doesn’t look at you like you’re that one bird that they confused for a shooting star. Flawed, sure, but still beautiful.

Thank you for giving me something to think about.

Sincerely,

H.W.

###

Four years ago.

Dipping French fries in garlic cream is a gift sent from heaven. It’s what distracts her in this awful party with high school students, sporting their best clothing, faces filled with dumb smiles in need of feeling integrated in groups. Instead, she leans against the kitchen counter in the house of one of her classmates, concentrating on the scene that develops on the TV screen, a romantic movie displayed in there as she munches on the snacks everyone has been passing on just to socialize.

With the sound of her name cutting through the music, she turns towards the gray door that leads to the small kitchen. Yukhei is there, brown hair falling on his forehead as he clasps his hands together in front of him. A ridiculous plaid shirt rests on his upper body, tucked inside his skinny jeans when he pleads, in his best whiny tone:

“Can you please stop being a party pooper and come play a game with us?” He questions, and she knows Yukhei does it in good fun. He brought her here on the first place, in his dad’s car, as he begged to have his best friend by his side. Parties are his thing—and with his high school girlfriend tied by his side, he attends them much more often. “Please. I need you to have fun once.”

Truth be told, she’s not as easy going as she should, but she continues to dip another French fry into the cream before bringing it up to her lips and taking it in one bite. “I’m having fun. Titanic is running, the AC here is just perfect and this cream, God, Yukhei, this cream is to die for—”

“You ate it all yourself?” The taller man questions, taking the plate in between his fingers and watching that, indeed, the plate is halfway finished. “Shit, you smell like garlic.” Bringing his index and thumb to his nose, he plucks at his nostrils not to smell the garlic in her, and she has to raise her eyebrows at that.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll just keep my mouth closed.”

Through a nasal tone, her best friend shakes his head. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” She says, blowing air into her rounded palm to feel her breath. Oof, boy, is it a good garlic.

“Because we’re about to play seven minutes in heaven and I want you to have a second chance at a first kiss since your first one sucked.” Fifteen, in the back of a cinema, with someone’s tongue down her throat and buttery fingertips running over her arms. It was horrid, and the thought alone of kissing someone else has her stomach churning. “I won’t pressure you to do it, but if the person you’re selected to go with is attractive to you,” He lets go of his nose, taking in a deep breath before smiling at her. “Go for it. You deserve to have a second try.”

Angel is not an adjective that would go with Yukhei’s name, but he is practical. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to offend anyone by saying no.”

“You’re not.” Yukhei says, swatting his hand in the air. “We’re all okay with it, and if you want to participate, you’re allowed to say no. We changed the rules. It’s consensual seven minutes in heaven. A classic for us.” Tugging at the sleeve of her oversized sweater, he drags her towards one of the bathrooms, rummaging through the glass cabinets until he finds some toothpaste. “But I need you to pour some of this on your finger and brush your teeth the best you can without a brush because I don’t want anyone tasting the garlic in your mouth. Thank you.”

Not enough objecting later and an endless pep-talk from Yukhei, she finds herself on a circle with some of her friends and classmates. Around twenty, to be exact, and the bottle had not landed on her yet. A few rounds pass by, and she’s left sipping on some soda to take the garlic breath away from her mouth—though bettered after half-brushing her teeth—, knees brought up to her chest when the bottle swings and she connects gazes with everyone on the circle.

Gravity makes it choice and when she looks down, the bottle is pointing at her, the other edge signaling towards Wong Kunhang.

Kunhang is not her closest friend, but he is cute. Big dark brown eyes, straight hair falling on the typical hairstyle on his forehead, dressed better than Yukhei in this occasion. A graphic t-shirt with some Star Wars quote and ripped jeans. His lips barely quirk up at the corner of his mouth when he looks up at her, her heart caged against her chest in fear of being denied.

Because Kunhang is a yes for her. She can’t say she would absolutely mind kissing him.

A shiver goes down her spine when Dia, one of the girls on the circle, claps her hands together and points to Kunhang after. “So, Kunhang, are you willing to get locked for seven minutes with your selected partner?”

Okay, this is it. This is the moment she feels like dissipating because one of the cutest guys in her class denies her. Maybe, he’ll stick his tongue out and pretend to vomit, or even worse, he’ll just shake his head and purse his lips, showing his disinterest—

“Yeah, of course.” He shrugs his shoulders, he does do that, but he sounds interested, quirking an eyebrow at her as his eyes twinkle. “Do you want to?”

The question is slow, enough to have her blinking a few times until Yukhei nudges her side with his bony elbow. “A—Ah, yes, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Sweet.” One of the guys says, deep voice following a high-five with Kunhang as the selected guy stands up and extends his hand towards her.

Shaking fingertips wrap around his, nervous beyond what she could explain. Yukhei had talked about this—kisses that were only meant to feel good, but she doesn’t think there should not be a reason for kissing. Clammy palms and tethering figure must have been made noticeable to Kunhang when they open the door to one of the closets, the lights turned off when they lock them inside, chest to chest, coats surrounding them in the cramped room.

With her heart practically racing out of her chest, Kunhang interlocks his fingers with hers, softly, speaking into the thin air: “We don’t have to kiss, you know?” He says, a chuckle following his words. “I’ll settle with a kiss on the cheek if that’s what you want.”

“W—Why do you say that?” She tries to grow accustomed to the dark room, but Kunhang’s eyes are nowhere to be seen in the dark.

“You’re shaking.”

Breathing out softly, she engulfs his palm with some strength. “I’m nervous.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of the kiss.” She mumbles out, feeling one of Kunhang’s hands pulling away from her hold to push her hair away from her shoulder, settling on her jaw softly. “I—I don’t think I enjoy kisses.”

Kunhang stays silent for a few seconds before quirking his head to the side, a confused noise leaving him. “You don’t?”

“They don’t feel good for me.”

“You’ve tried with various people?”

“One guy.”

“Who?”

“Woosung. He graduated last year.” Kunhang must not know him. Woosung was part of the soccer team, while he’s part of the debate club—

“Who the fuck trusts Woosung with a kiss?” He questions, voice levelled to have people believe they’re actually not just talking. “Isn’t that the guy who pees in the bushes instead of going to the bathroom like actual people?”

“He’s lazy.”

“It’s school. You can’t be that lazy.”

That relaxes her enough to chuckle, chest touching with his slim frame in the process. “Maybe, I just made a wrong choice.”

“Not a ‘maybe’. I’m certain.” Kunhang confesses, pushing his body forward the slightest, just one step, but enough to steal her breath away. “…What would you say if I told you I could do better? I mean, you could always compare and it could be a nice experience. You, you know, could consider this your first kiss.” He shrugs, and though she wants to continue talking, her eyes have finally settled to the dark and she sees the outline of his thin lips, too close for her not to notice them, not to want to taste them—

“Why not?”

Those are the two words that gave her the best kiss she’s ever had. Sweet, tranquil, patient, meant to feel good, to be relaxed and dizzying. Her palms extend to end on his waist, breathing in the scent of his perfume mixed with some spices, his hair tickling her face when he decides to deepen the kiss.

Most first kisses with someone are not perfect, but this one feels like it, taking every portion of her soul and claiming it as Kunhang’s. His hands settle on her waist, feeling feminine for once, as if she’s more than just a pair of lips to kiss—he has purpose on this, for them to feel good, connected beyond what anyone could have explained to her.

Wong Kunhang is one damn good kisser, even when he was just seventeen at the time.

And his sense of time is to envy, pulling away with a smile and a sly pop of his lips when he whispers, taking one last peck from her: “We have twenty seconds. I don’t want you to get caught.”

She barely has enough time to fix her hair and the sleeve of her sweater when Dia opens the door of the closet and beams at them.

“How was the kiss?”

Kunhang could have talked about how he dizzied her, made her feel better than any man but he went for the route he knew would be better for her instead.

“Wouldn’t know. We just talked.” Though, she’s not sure anyone believed him, lips rosy when he took his snapback and placed it backwards on his head, taking a seat on the circle once again with a smile on his face.

Dia wraps an arm around her shoulder, gasping at his words. “You just talked over there?”

Looking into her eyes, she finishes the conversation with a whispered: “I think we just needed to catch up.”

But her braincells hadn’t caught up to how insane she felt after kissing Kunhang.

So, that was what a real kiss was.

###

Her ribcage digs into the edge of the counter of the gym, pumped-up hip-hop music blaring from the speakers when she swipes through her phone screen. Worries, all accumulated inside her head, with the need to be voiced out, go from one corner of her brain to the other as she swipes through her screen, refreshing the website that had given her some peace of thought when it came to solitude.

How would Kunhang react had he known the reality of it all? Had he known that H.W had made her feel better? They never had that connection; that thing that she had with Yukhei where she could approach him and endlessly talk about topics with no judgement inside her heart. Not because she feared his words would pierce through her with stigmas, but because the distance between them was based on her attraction towards him. Always relaxed, honest, living a day at a time…seemingly unworried.

So, she continues to talk to him, in hopes to be read, to get a glimmer of his heart and head once again even when the website’s inbox is closed.

I don’t know why I’m writing to you again, or well, I really do.

H.W, have you ever made a mess so big you don’t know how to put the pieces together? Have you ever hidden in hopes of no one seeing you? I’m sure not a lot of people have. Here I am, hiding from the man I don’t want to date while I’m unable to tell him to just fuck off.

See, something you should know about me, apart from loveless, I’m also a coward.

The first thing I thought about was writing something to you. I know this is part of your project and you may not read me again, but whatever, I just need to let this out with someone…

Do you, oh so wise love master, have some list of ways to break things off with someone who you’re not really dating but you don’t want to see anymore because you didn’t want to see them on the first place?

Asking for a friend.

Or, not. Definitely asking for myself.

I’m a mess.

Dearly,

Loveless Anon.

P.S: Should I start calling myself Dumbass Anon? Fits better, IMO.

With that, she shrinks at the sight of Leo entering the establishment, the heels of her palms digging onto the tiles to get away from the main area and into the office at the back, closing the door behind her with a soft swish.

She’s sure of one thing, she doesn’t want to kiss that man again.

###

“What does…?” Plopping the red lollipop from between his lips, Mrs. Ling’s grandson, Lu, swings his feet back and forth while seated on the bench in his grandmother’s garden. Mrs. Ling had married a wealthy man back in her day, when her ninety-year-old bones didn’t creak whenever she walked, hence the family has a wealthy lifestyle. “What does Pikachu turn into once he grows up?”

Lu may be trying to say the word ‘evolve’, and this entire obsession for Pokémon may have come from the constant singing of the theme song towards the plants with the kid around, but with the sun beaming down his features, keeping him reddened under the limelight, Kunhang hums. “That’s be Raichu.”

Pouring water fills the silence around them until Lu pouts out his plump bottom lip, his long dark bowl-cut moving with the wind. The seven-year-old is adorable, he’ll give him that. “But Pikachu never changes in the show…”

Turning around, he stops watering the plants, a smile taking over his features when he says: “Maybe, because he doesn’t want to change.”

“But who wouldn’t want to be a stronger Pikachu?”

That question makes him think back to his website. It’s been a while since he last checked for it, inbox closed and project running, but all he can think about is Loveless Anon. She wanted to be better at love, without realizing there is no bettering what is just meant to happen.

“Strength is not everything, kid.” Kunhang replies, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Sometimes, all we need is our friends. Or people who want to be by our sides. What’s the point of being better if you can’t be better with your people?”

That has Lu thinking for a few seconds, his Pikachu plushie placed on his lap, his chin resting on its head and Kunhang resumes to watering the plants, twenty minutes left on the clock before he has to rush out of there.

“Are you Raichu or Pikachu?”

That moment, Kunhang wants to laugh. Well, the metaphors are now connected to a kid’s show. “Like, a Feebas. Unique, but no one really gives a…thing about me.”

Lu’s eyes twinkle when he stands up from his spot. “I have a Feebas in my game.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” Lu nods. “It’s cool, like you. I want to be like you when I grow up, HangHang.”

When a plate breaks, the sound perpetrates each portion of a person’s body. It shatters to the point of bringing fear onto someone. Yet, that dulling noise settles inside his ears, confusing him when he sees Lu enter the spacious home and rush up the set of stairs. A kid, a whole rich kid who plays Pokémon a little too much had told him that he wanted to be like him?

Now, that’s one of the best things that has happened to Kunhang in a while.

And maybe, it’s about time he feels proud of what he has done. A website, along with his friends. A project now developed, that doesn’t sound too bad. He’s midway through his career. A good friend, a nice son, an annoying brother…he’s a lot of things, but he never stops and thinks about the change he can make into someone’s life.

That’s how he ends his job a bit early, with ten minutes on the clock as he takes a seat on that bench Lu had taken place on, rummaging through the website to see if Loveless Anon had written something else to him.

Nonetheless, he didn’t expect for her to actually reply to him.

Thus, taking into consideration that the website includes the option of personal replies, he starts writing.

Be honest. That’s the key to life.

You know, I don’t think you’re a dumbass. I have a friend who is just like you. She’s…amazing, but she doesn’t realize it in most occasions. If ever. I think if the guy you’re seeing is an absolute asshole, prepare with all your might, make something grand that sits his ass down in place and have a great time at it (record it if you do embarrass him, I love watching assholes have a hard time).

But hey, if he’s a nice dude, just sit him down and talk about it. Say you don’t feel the way he wants you to feel and move on.

I don’t think being a coward is inherent to us. We can change it, you know?

Or, contract H.W to do it for you. Would love to!

P.S: I really like the name Loveless Anon. It sounds so aesthetic. I can imagine it on Pinterest posts between hearts.

Talk to me sometime, maybe off anon dude,

H.W.

Though, when he lifts his gaze, he hears the sound of someone falling onto the bushes of the garden, he stands up with a frown on his face.

Oh, please don’t tell him he’s about to be part of a robbery—

###

People of the world, jot down the rule number one of living in your notebooks…

Don’t break up with a rich person while being on their car. Don’t break up with a man with an ego so huge it’s bigger than his nonexistent ass. Those are two rules, but with a comma in between, they can be added together.

Leo’s sharp eyes had managed to find her today and with his incessant need to get her out to buy some ice cream for her, a wet kiss pressed to her lips without her desire, she decided it was time. You know, how in movies the side character who is best friends with the real main character opts that enough is enough and they’re going to evolve.

Well, this didn’t go so well.

What she had said, five minutes ago was: “I don’t think we should be seeing each other. Ever. I just…ah, it doesn’t work for me, I guess?”

So, that’s where the pleading started, his plush lips spitting out the truths that he guesses about her—that she was so into their kisses, so devoted to him, so simply head over heels that he couldn’t believe she was spitting out such lies.

“Leo, I’m fucking honest. It’s over.” With her patience running short, her fingers hook around the handle of the door, ready to jump out of the car if necessary. The man is not even looking ahead of the road when he comes to a clear, abrupt stop.

“You’re such a needy little bitch.” Finally, his true colors are shown and she has to lift her eyebrows at the sentence that left his lips. “You think that just because you’re half cute, you get to treat people like shit. It has always been like this—”

“Well, you were the one trying it out with me. You were pushy, Leo.”

“You said yes,” He shrugs, unlocking the doors of his expensive car, an eye-roll following after. “What are you, stupid? Now I have to read between the lines with bitches because there are people like you that don’t know what they want?”

That is the brink of the iceberg, the tip, making her chuckle as she opens the door of the car. “I know what I want,” She starts. “And it has never been you. I dated you because you were all over the place, asking me out.”

“Out of pity.” Leo conquers. “No one wants to date you because you’re fucking impossible to deal with.”

“Okay then! I’m better off not dating if that means not seeing people like you.”

When she closes the door of the car, the swooshing motion of the windows opening has it pulling down. “Get back in the car.”

“I won’t.”

“Get back in the fucking car before I tell everyone just how much of a bitch you are.”

“I don’t care. Not about you, not about your opinion.”

Though, when she hears his wheels whirling and the man moving backwards, she starts running, fearful of what his tainted ego could do. Rocks splattered on the sidewalk may have been enough to make her lose her footing as she looks over her shoulder, someone’s gates digging onto her sternum for the briefest second when she falls, lunching forward and inside a house.

Well, what a way to end things coolly.

Curled leaves fall against her hair, the harshness of a hose plastered against her waist when she lets out a curt sigh. She swears she hears footsteps, but with the sun beaming down on her eyes and the fall corrupting every portion of her muscles, her ears barely make out the noise until someone’s strong fingertips wrap around her arms and bring her up, stomach folded, eyes widening when she sees the person in front of her.

He calls out her name at the same time that she whispers out a tiny: “Kunhang?”

For once, the sun has done him justice, scarlet streaks of embarrassment and heat transcending from his cheeks to his neck when a big smile takes over his features. “You’re trying to rob my employer’s house?”

“God, no.” She shakes her head, her own hands resting on his shoulders to straighten her back and get up as skillfully as she can while hurt from the fall. “No, no, I would never.”

“Then, explain this very inappropriate way of entering someone’s house.” Thus, she knows he is joking around with her, arms folded across his chest when she sighs deeply.

She has written to him under the name of Loveless Anon, maybe because she was scared of saying it out loud—that the only man she has ever enjoyed kissing and hasn’t lost attraction to is him. There, with the fear of being judged for being so fucking easy to read, for him to know that things with Leo weren’t working out, she decides to speak up.

“Leo was following me around with his car after I broke things off with him.” Resting her hands on the depth of her pockets, she shrugs. “Well, or he could have just driving off, but with how angry he was…I thought…”

“What did he tell you?” Through gritted teeth, he hunts for answers, jaw tightened on his hold.

“Called me a bitch. Said something about me being impossible—”

“Oh, of course he would.” Kunhang rolls his eyes, pure exasperation following his scoff when she decides to interrupt him.

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have dated just because, it was bad.”

He quirks an eyebrow at that, before humming softly. “You’ve got a point. I can’t say it wasn’t your fault.” He replies. “But that doesn’t give him a reason to treat you badly, much less make you jump into someone’s house.”

“That was a reflex.”

Placing one hand on top of her head, Kunhang chuckles. “I don’t care. That asshole doesn’t get to treat you like that.” With that, he gives one step away from her, the warmth of him replaced by the sun when he goes pick up his backpack. “Is he out there?”

She knows how tight Kunhang’s schedule is, so she shakes her head. “I doubt he is. I—I will just walk home.”

“I can’t offer you a car ride, but I won’t let you leave on your own. What if he’s out there, all pissed off?” With that, he tosses his helmet towards her, caught through nimble fingers when he gives her a smile. “We’re going on my super bicycle. Batman had his car, I have my bicycle.”

Though the sentence warms her heart, she can’t accept it. “Kunhang, you’re going to run late to work—”

“Consider it a calf workout. I need them to get stronger.” With the way he rests a hand in between her shoulder blades, moving her away from the garden and saying his goodbyes over his shoulder, her mind can already make out his positive answer to taking her home.

“Your legs are fine.”

“You think so?” Kunhang asks, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “So, the ladies say.”

“Oh, come on.” She nudges his side with her elbow. “Too much time with Yukhei is making you go all Casanova.”

“Please. I’m not in Yukhei’s level.”

“Thank God.”

In a cramped little bicycle with the world swishing around them, her arms wrap around his taut waist, her head lulled against his back when she takes in the scent of him, the spice that she may never forget, relishing on his softness and the way he never stops talking, sometimes in a deeper voice when he doesn’t notice. It’s purely him, the guy in the closet with her that one time years ago.

It’s H.W.

It’s not a surprise when guilt washes over her when she gets home, Kunhang not having much time for conversation as he rushes—quite late—to his next job. Upon seeing her apartment complex, she looks down at her phone, seeing a notification from the website he created.

Would he still reply to her if he knew it was her?

###

You know that game people play before graduation, a little bit before prom? Most likely to become president or to get married? Well, Yangyang should’ve won the title ‘most likely to become high on one sip of caffeine but still be goddamn addicted.’

Fits him like a glove.

Fresh coffee beans, Styrofoam cups, wiped tables and soft jazz, Kunhang has learned the art of caffeine against his will. With his eyes half closing, he tries not to pour down the coffee that he is serving Yukhei’s roommate this early in the morning. With his apron digging into his stomach, his hair done a mess and his eyelashes fluttering against his under-eyes, he feels like Yangyang is another kind of specimen. If his guesses are not wrong, Yangyang may have not even slept the entire night.

The balls of his feet make him move back and forth by the time Kunhang turns around, the barista is midway through a yawn when he scribbles a quick heart on top of Yangyang’s coffee and sends it over his way.

“You look horrible,” Yangyang spits out, thankfully the last in line. With relaxation filling his bones, Kunhang rests his elbow on the counter, head lulling to the side while delicately closing his eyes. “Maybe, you should start tidying up. My roomie is about to get here any second.”

With pursed lips and a tired scoff, Kunhang replies: “Why would I give a shit about what Yukhei thinks? He’s seen me this tired since forever.”

But Yangyang is smart, with his cat-like smile, pushed back hair and oversized hoodie, he doesn’t look like a nightmare, but he goddamn right is intuitive and a headache, much more when he spits out her name and has Kunhang straightening his back, looking around the room in suspicion.

“Guilty as charged, I see.”

“T—That doesn’t mean a thing.” Kunhang tries to chuckle, shrugging his shoulders in the process. “I’m just not used…to looking bad…in front of people who are not my closest friends?” His voice sounds like a goddamned question. Fuck, why can’t he simply sound more relaxed?

Truth is, he has one of those bad cases of underthinking. When all he can think about is one person. These past few weeks, he has checked that goddamned website, with the little time he has left, and he has looked forward to talking to Loveless Anon. For, it feels like he is talking to her, and that kind of connection has never come around.

He’s a coward. He kissed her in a closet during the lamest game in the world and he could never ask her out. Partly because he expected her to say something, admit that it was a good kiss and wasn’t like the others, and another part of him was just a tad bit scared. Of the awkwardness, for example, that could come in their friend group and with Yukhei if they just happened to see each other that way and break up.

“So, the myth has it—” Yangyang takes a sip of his drink. “That you two kissed when you were like seventeen.”

Kunhang’s eyes settle on a figure at the far distance, bustling laughter and clapping hands of men making him frown. Isn’t that Leo…? He returns his gaze to Yangyang. “Who told you that?”

“You know, like, that one time last Christmas when we got stuck at the campus and you were, like, drunk off your ass?” Kunhang nods. “I asked you who was a better kisser between two girls you dated and you told me her name, and she wasn’t even in the list.”

“I was drunk.” Kunhang tries to chuckle the matter away.

“So, she wasn’t a good kisser?” Yangyang waves his eyebrows on his forehead, up and down. “Or should I test it myself just so we have a reaction out of you and you finally ask her out? Because you’re hot, she’s hot. Hot plus hot makes hotter.”

The older man shakes his head, pondering if he should go to that goddamned table that included Leo and his friends. He’s not sure if he wants her to see him, so it’s better to simply attend them and get them out of the way. Running his hands over his apron, he walks away from his spot behind the counter.

“That actually makes two hot. Hot plus hot makes two hot, not hotter.”

“Nerd talk doesn’t get the girls, bro.” Yangyang conquers with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, and you’re not kissing her.”

With a scrunched-up face and a faked gag, he nods. “Of course, I won’t. I’ve heard that woman fart, I’m not sure if I see her that way, or any way.”

“You really expect your future partner not to fart in front of you?”

“I expect them to make me fall in love hard enough for me not to care about their stinky farts.”

He laughs, patting Yangyang’s shoulder before speaking. “Listen, Leo is right over there and I hadn’t even noticed. Now, I want you not to let her inside if she gets here. I don’t want her seeing that dude.”

For a second, Yangyang’s brown eyes widen before catching a glimpse of the man by the table before nodding. “You’ve got it. We’re distracting her and making mortadella out of his dick.”

“Not really.” Kunhang spits out, but he points at his friends. “But I like your way of thinking.”

Very rarely does Kunhang feel petrified, in spot, as if the world around him is going miles per minutes and he’s stuck in half a mile. His chest contracts when he gets his notepad out of his pocket, only to hear the obscenities that left Leo’s lips, a smirk forever plastered on his face.

“You should’ve seen her face when I was fucking her.”

He listens, loud and clear, every little detail that Leo presumably fakes, that boosts his ego and have his friends leaning on the table to hear about him from up close. The man barely looks up from the menu on his hands or stops talking about the ‘little noises she made’—his words, not Kunhang’s—when he recognizes the man in front of him. Barely concealing his grin, he continues speaking.

“She doesn’t look like the type.” One of his friends says, laughing in the most obnoxious of ways as he folds the sleeves of his red t-shirt for the umpteenth time, all in hopes of showing his muscles. “But atta boy, you got to fuck her in less than a month. Congrats.”

Maybe, he should’ve thought rationally. He could lose his job for what he does next…but who is he kidding? This is the rational thing to do. Take the used coffee cup on one of the abandoned tables, pull the back of Leo’s shirt away from his neck and soon after, pour the entirety of the sipped on, cold, perhaps rancid coffee down his shirt to hear him gasp and pull away from the table with a harsh tug.

There is goes.

Revenge and karma are fucking dating, and for a reason.

“Oh no. No. No. No.” He swears he hears Yangyang saying when he gets closer, but Leo, with his taller height, has already grasped the front of Kunhang’s shirt, breathing a little too closely.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Cooling you off.” Kunhang replies, quirking one of his eyebrows in the process. “You were getting a little horny out of your spank-bank imagination, so I needed to stop your shit.”

Before Leo could push him backwards, his fist goes forward, knocking him on his sculpted abdomen before pulling away. “Is this what this shit is about?” He questions, though when he lifts his hand to hit Kunhang, he swats it away with ease. Too much muscle, not a lot of strength. “You’re angry I fucked your friend?”

Yangyang takes this moment to butt in. “I’m not the type to fight but you definitely didn’t fuck her.”

“You were there?”

“I know you didn’t.” Kunhang replies for Yangyang, though it’s more of a prayer. If this man ever dared lay a finger on her, he’s going to lose his mind. Maybe, because someone like him shouldn’t have kissed her on the first place. “Man, everyone who saw you with her could tell that she wasn’t really into you. Get over it.”

A punch lays on Kunhang’s cheekbone, burning bright and hurting the slightest, his hand coming to the side to cradle the pained skin. “What do you fucking know?”

With the doors of the café opening and some customers still gaping at them, he hears the sound of someone getting closer, a low voice adding:

“Now I know enough.” And from the way she speaks, Kunhang could only curse at himself for what she saw. A beanie rests on her head, her face stoic, the rest of her clothing comfortable and ready for a coffee meeting with her roommate, but that had to be ruined by this asshole. “You didn’t fuck me, and I’m so thankful I decided not to do anything else with you. So, you can talk all the shit you want about me, I don’t care. Tell everyone about what we didn’t do or create a fucking story, but don’t you dare lay a hand on him again, you get me?”

Shivering from the cold brewed coffee on his back, Leo says: “You are insane!”

“Well, yeah, now you know my second name.”

“Out.” Kunhang says, pointing at the door, skin tainted on his cheekbone, hurting like a madman. Maybe, he spoke about Leo’s strength quite too soon. “Out of my establishment right now.”

“Whatever.” Leo spits out, picking up his backpack before pointing with his chin towards the door. “Let’s go, boys.”

By the time the doors open and close behind the group of men, wheels of his car whirling at his high speed, he hears Yangyang clapping his hands once before saying, in the softest tone:

“Who would’ve thought dumbass Wong Kunhang had it in him to be badass?”

Scoffing, she turns to look at Kunhang, sitting him down where Leo had taken place on pink leather accompanied by a white table before inspecting his face with soft fingertips. He really tries his hardest not to concentrate on her face, her tainted lips and sweet eyes when she studies his features.

“That’s not badass. That’s stupid.” She conquers, opening her bag and getting a cloth out before talking to Yangyang. “Bring me some water. It must be killing him—”

Saluting her, Yangyang hums. “On it.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” Kunhang hisses when she digs her fingers onto his cheekbones, palping around. “That asshole was lying about you and I couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry, but with how much it takes you to trust someone and how much you pressured yourself to like him, I didn’t think it was fair for him to treat you as if you were a toy. I don’t think it’s okay.”

Silence falls upon her, only opening her lips when Yangyang brings her a bottle of water. Somehow, the youngest understands to get away from the situation, not the annoying one by the time she pours some water on the cloth and presses it to Kunhang’s bruised skin.

“Did you believe him?”

Kunhang shakes his head. “No.” He denies softly, hissing at the pain. “But even if you had done something with him, that doesn’t give him the benefit to talk about it as if it wasn’t something you two did. As if most people don’t get involved in shit like that. No one cares—”

A little smile tugs at the corner of her lips, pushed away by her worry. “And the coffee stain?”

“I poured coffee on him.”

“Why?”

“He was talking on detail and hearing all those guys thirst over you in that light. I don’t know…” Kunhang looks over to the side, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Not that I hope no one feels attracted to you, I know a lot of people do. I sure hope you get, at least, twenty guys in your DM’s every time you post a picture because it’s the hype you deserve…but I don’t want, you know…”

“You don’t want what?”

“I don’t want you to date just whoever.” Kunhang finalizes, raising his hands in the air. “But it’s not my call and I have to accept it, because I want your utmost happiness above all…but come on? A gym rat that talks about sex and hitting it from the back even if you were absolutely repulsed to kiss him? You can do so much better—”

The moment she wraps her arms around him, he doesn’t expect it. Truth is, every action of her being tugs at his heart strings in ways that he can’t understand. The warm nature of her hug when she rests her chin on his shoulder and rests her hands on his back has his own arm coming upwards, engulfing her and resting his fingertips on her head.

“You’re not meant to be my knight in shining armor, you know?”

“I don’t mean to be that.” Kunhang whispers, pulling away to tenderly trail his gaze over her face. “I know you can take care of yourself perfectly fine. Jump into some old lady’s house on the way, too.”

“…You’re such a fool.” Rolling her eyes, she lets her thumb trail over his cheekbone. “And a cute fool, but now you look like Prince Charming after getting on the boxing ring with Canelo Alvarez.”

“I stopped listening after cute.” Batting his eyelashes, Kunhang stands up at that moment. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to continue working. May I know, our beloved customer, what your coffee order for today is?”

Fixing the hoodie over her head, she pouts out her lips when saying: “Cinnamon coffee, please? And one for you, too. You look exhausted.”

Someone please put a wall up before she gets to his much-too-busy life and heart.

###

The world falls from her eyes, tired beyond what she could express, entering her last year of her psychology major and still, feeling unprepared. Maybe, that’s the endless minds of adults—losing confidence with each step they give into forever. Her fingers rake through her hair with the light of Yukhei’s laptop casting over her face as she reads through the last version of his shared project with Kunhang.

And maybe, in this room, she feels a bit guilty—divided in a way that she can’t quite explain. She’s not doing anything wrong, but connecting with Kunhang only through a website makes her feel ridiculous. Maybe, here where she is sitting, reading the conclusions, she starts to think there would have been no way for Kunhang to talk to her had it not been under a pseudonym and somehow, it’s the harshest pill to swallow.

Closing her eyes tightly, she taps her finger against the last sentence of the document before humming. “Proud of you, giant.” She says, voice as dulcet as it can be when treating with her roommate, turning to him with a faint smile on her features. Yukhei rests against the doorframe of her room, sporting some plaid pajamas and his blonde hair done a mess. “It’s good. You took the corrections I gave you and wrote a nice project, and the conclusions are great—”

“Did you read Kunhang’s?” He questions, her grin faltering the slightest.

She did, indeed. While Yukhei had concentrated on issues according to unemployment and how it affected people’s social lives, Kunhang had gone straight for love and how pressuring it feels for young adults to find the love of their lives.

Maybe, Loveless Anon had something to do with that.

“I read the entire project. Can’t wait for you guys to get the best grade.”

“That’s not what I’m asking, dummy.” Yukhei gets closer to her, kneeling in front of her computer seat before tugging at the edge and pulling her away from the desk. He needs her utmost attention, as it seems. “You want me to believe, me Wong Yukhei, that you’re not that Loveless Anon that Kunhang has been talking to for the past two months ago?”

Trying to look for an answer, she comes with the smallest one, barely let out through her half-parted lips. “So, what about it?”

Yukhei widens his eyes at that. “Oh shit, I was right.”

Well, there goes Yukhei guessing and doing it right for once. “…You were guessing.”

“And, I guessed right. I am really not as dumb as people think I am.” Yukhei chuckles at his own words, patting his hand against her knee. “So, when are you going to confess it all to him? Like, in one of those coming-of-age movies that we see or in those Hong Kong romance movies where—”

“Never.”

“What?”

Perhaps, Yukhei thinks of this as a movie. That romances in college last, or that either of them has the time to actually date each other. Not only that, but her own cowardly nature that had preferred to write under an anon name rather than talk to him in the way they did two months ago.

She once learned probabilities, she really did—and while she can read people, she can read situations even better. Kunhang and herself are not probable; they are not a match made in heaven and neither can they be friends. Not after that kiss. Not because they have a friend in common, Yukhei in this case, that would be absolutely devastated if he lost one or the other.

“Listen, it’s going to be weird because…I don’t know, I guess the letters feel a bit obvious about me flirting with him and—”

“And, so what?” Yukhei questions, his hands coming up to his hair when he stands up to pace back and forth. “Throughout the entirety of these two months, you’ve questioned yourself for never being attracted enough to a guy, for never wanting a guy as much as they want you but now, for the first time in years, you are interested in a guy whom you’ve kissed and you’d kiss again. Shit, why the hell aren’t you telling him and testing the waters?!”

“It isn’t that easy.” Closing the Word document with Yukhei’s project, she turns to look through the PDF book she should be reading for a class. “What if he’s not interested?”

“Oh, trust me. Kunhang thinks you’re hot.”

“That isn’t enough, Yukhei.” Though, heat fills her face once she rests her palm on her cheek, trying to hide away from her best friend. “What if he doesn’t want the same thing I do?”

“Then, you can say you tried.”

For a moment, those words repeat inside her head, with the memories—though definitely in group of friends—in between the two and the smiles shared, but she shakes her head before she can think of it any further.

“Thanks for the concern, Yukhei, but I’d rather pluck all of my eyelashes out than go through the embarrassment of being rejected by Kunhang. Bye.”

“He’s not going to reject you.” He tries to reason. “But if he did, then he’s the one losing you. Not you losing him.”

Even through it all, the hardships of college, the stress of adulthood, she can say she has someone taking care of her.

“I said bye, giant.”

“I’m not—”

“I’ll delete your Word document with your entire project if you don’t leave, Yukhei.” She adds, with humor in her tone. “And I know you don’t back your shit up.”

When he opens the door to leave, she hears a faint whisper leaving his deep voice: “You’re evil, woman.”

###

The air around his lungs feels less constricting when seated on that table in his social science class, grasping his last test in between his fingers, his project revised and approved by the professor, ending up on second place in the entire class.

This is the grade that could make him pass.

Or, alternatively, that could mean more money for university.

Kunhang has always prided on the fact that he’s confident, but with shaky fingertips and weaving eyes, he doesn’t know what to think about. Dejun’s face has softened sufficiently, meaning he has done well and of course, star of the class—somehow—Wong Yukhei is not worried.

“Come on, man.” Yukhei pats his hand against the back of his head, harsher than intended. “It’ll be fine. You’ve stupid like crazy.”

And that’s what scares him. For the first time, Kunhang has put his all and a bit more, waiting for the best outcome, but by the way his stomach twists and turns, his mind lightweight, it’s impossible for him to pass this class. No matter how hard he works, Mr. Sam wouldn’t be nice enough to grade him properly.

“Yeah, I guess.” Kunhang mumbles, turning the page around until it meets his gaze, like a glass of cold water falling on his face and awakening him. The most beautiful moments of life are not those who are perfect, but when his head felt like it was underwater and he managed to rise again.

Eighty.

Kunhang got an eighty in his last test.

“I fucking passed!” The smile on his face reads a thousand shades of sunshine when he plasters the exam down on the desk and brings his hands up his features, upwards towards the strands of his brown hair.

He can breathe again.

###

From: Min Chaeryeong.

Come pick me up at Dejun’s place.

Just broke up with him.

That asshole.

Never again, girl. Never again.

Romance movies paint it so beautifully. There’s a beginning, a limitation, a resolution and an end—well, a prolongated end in the form of happily ever after. What they never expect is for the secondary character to be rushing through the streets in order to get to Dejun’s place, looking for her best friend who had been on a long relationship only for it to end in an abrupt night of July, with a text that worries her to bits and pieces.

Her hair swishes with the movement of her hands opening the entrance door, greeting some of the students in the apartment complex before going up the set of stairs. Sneakers clanking against the tiles after coming from her workplace, her stomach roars in hunger and yet, she can only worry about Chaeryeong. Would she be crying endlessly? She knows, better than anyone, that Chaeryeong and Dejun love each other, or used to, at the very least…but if they can’t work together, then so be it.

She pulls the hood of her white sweater off her head, knocking on Dejun’s door a few times only to come up with silence. Her ear presses to the orange wood, wanting to listen to, at least, the whisper of the aftereffects of a fight, but it’s silent. Could they have gone somewhere else?

Her phone slips out of her pocket when she writes back.

To: Min Chaeryeong.

Chae, I’m here.

Where are you?

What happened?

Open the door.

From: Min Chaeryeong.

It’s open.

I’m in the closet with Dejun.

Come pick me up before I slice his nuts in half.

Okay, now that is a sign for her to open the door as quickly as she can.

The handle slides from her fingertips quickly, managing to take off her shoes in a swift motion before walking through the elongated hallway. None of Dejun’s roommates are anywhere to be around, not even his dog, Bella, but she does know where the closet can be found. Third door on the right, next to Dejun’s room.

Picking up Chaeryeong after staying over at Dejun’s place had been normal occurrence more than once, after all.

Maybe, it’s the worry for her two friends, the aspiring voice full of ambition that tells her she can save the day, but she opens the door of the closet. Darkened walls and not a single light in sight, the cramped space welcomes her body, door swinging closed behind her until she hears a small whine in a manly voice, a man standing up just when he hears the door closing.

“No!” But by the movement the visitor made—clearly Kunhang, now that she hears his voice—, caused for his chest to be pressed to hers, his left arm extending to stop the door from closing a little too late. Well, Kunhang is here, but—

“Where are Chae and Dejun?”

Kunhang pulls away at that, crossing his arms over his chest, glimmers of sweat dancing across his forehead and temple before sighing. “They’re in the other room, celebrating their anniversary by playing some fucking prank on us but for some reason, they locked me up in here and said you’d come in any second. The handle doesn’t work from the inside.”

“Fuck!” She curses, trying the handle out just when she hears Kunhang plop himself down on the flooring. “Why would they lock us in here?”

This sounds oddly familiar, and by the way Kunhang tugs at the collar of his shirt to wave some air towards himself, they could fry themselves from the heat here. “I have no idea.”

A knock on the door makes her look up, only to hear Dejun’s voice. “Because you two have something to tell each other and—”

“Chaeryeong, Dejun, you either get us out of here or I swear I will kick this door down!” Knowing the reason why she is here doesn’t make her feel any better. All of this just for her to admit that she’s Loveless Anon? Not a chance. She won’t stay here to make a fool of herself or die in the process. “Are you fucking out of your minds?”

“Well, everything with you guys has always started with a closet, so.” Chaeryeong is so dead for doing this to her— “I’ll give you seven minutes. If nothing happens, well, we’ll quit and accept we are just being stupid. If something happens, you’re welcome.”

“Chae!” Banging her fist against the door, she doesn’t hear anything else more than footsteps and the start of a timer, making her sigh deeply.

“Something to tell me?” Kunhang questions, voice low and soft before releasing a scoff. “Okay, you can tell me whatever. I won’t judge you. I just don’t want to suffocate in here because I think I’ve been here for five minutes or so and I’m—”

“I—I don’t know what to tell you!” She replies back, taking a seat next to him on the flooring before crossing her legs. “It’s really nothing. Like, it’s not a big deal.”

Turning to her, face closer than ever, he sighs through his nostrils. “They think it’s a big deal. So, it should be…”

“Listen, it’s…” With the scent of him engulfing her and her heart racing inside her chest, she thinks about how much of a coward she has been. Closed up and pulling away from him, even not saying anything to him that one time they kissed years ago. It was as if it didn’t happen, afraid of the consequences to the point she never tried to understand what that kiss meant. “You know, I’ve always…shit, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it.” Kunhang laughs, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “I promise I won’t judge. Unless it’s something really bad.”

What does he consider really bad?

“I’ve been confused for years. I thought that…that I’d never like someone for a long period of time. I guess, I wouldn’t ever be interested in someone for more than a week and it made me feel like the biggest bitch. And not in the good sense,” Turning to look at him, she rakes her eyes over his features. Twinkling eyes, rosy lips and understanding nature. “So, what did I do? I pushed myself away from ever feeling like that and I would’ve been perfectly fine with it had it not been for that one time at that party when I was curious to kiss you. I did, as you can remember.”

Kunhang lets his gaze fall down to her lips, chuckling in the process. Soft. Tender. “I do, of course.”

“And this is bad, really bad, but I compared every kiss after to you and part of me always wondered, as I was kissing other men, if I would only like to be kissed by you or how could I teach someone to kiss me like you did…and I’d feel even worse.” Her voice becomes duller, fluttering eyelashes from endless blinking. “So, that night you told me it wasn’t my fault, I was curious, again. I couldn’t believe that I was still stupid enough to be hung up on you, but I couldn’t talk about this with anyone. Shit, Yukhei is one of your best friends…”

“You really thought of me as your best kiss?” Kunhang questions, pointing with his index finger towards his taut chest. She nods once.

“I really thought I could learn how to come to terms with the fact that romance and kissing isn’t that big of a deal if I just talked to someone like you. You’re so relaxed all the fucking time and…” This time around, her throat contracts, not finding the words to say. Her eyelids close tightly when she breathes out: “I became Loveless Anon, because I wanted to know your opinion about it.”

For one second, Kunhang remains silent, a house of cards that has fallen onto the weight of realization, but then, laughter comes from him, barely audible when he shakes his head.

“I knew you were Loveless Anon.”

She widens her eyes at that, inspecting his impressed features. “You did?”

“The speech was the same as yours. And you only replied at times when I know you weren’t working or studying. It had to be you. Same issues, too.” Who would have thought that Kunhang would have guessed it from the beginning? “I didn’t want to believe it at first…but when I started to reply to you more often, I just knew. Every time I pressed enter on those messages, I thought of you.”

“Holy fuck.” She whispers, covering her face with her hands as sweet laughter leaves her lips. “I was mortified, Kunhang.”

His fingertips wrap around her wrists, uncovering her face when he beams at her face “Why? Why? You shouldn’t have been stressing out about this.” He whispers, cradling both hands in between his. “I should be the one stressing out because I never said anything either—and I really liked that kiss back then, too.”

“You don’t have to say it just because I did.” She laughs, trying to shrug the embarrassment that creeps up on her away. It’s impossible for him to have thought of that kiss in a closet to be something he enjoyed, much more compared with the number of women that were in his life during college after. “It’s okay, really. You’re just a really good kisser and you should know that—”

His arm wraps around her waist, bringing her forward to rest his lips against hers, his chest to hers when he turns to left to peck her lips softly. Delicately. Her eyes are barely closed by the time he pulls away, though from the brief glimpse of light from under the door, she can see that his eyelids have denied her the benefit of looking into his powerful eyes.

What she doesn’t expect is for him to press another softer, longer peck to her lips, her hands melting against his touch and resting on his chest, curling onto his side when she’s the one to pull away this time. Her sweater becomes his axis, curled into his fist when he leans in one last time, a sharp intake of breath following his actions when he deepens the kiss, his free hand resting on her shoulder, caressing the skin over the fabric.

Her own hands end up on his long hair, lips melting against her own, dancing with fervor, necessity, yet not picking up his pace—as if he has all the time in the world and he would rather spend it with her. Her fingertips go lower, to his jawline, burning skin scalding her own, sharp under her touch when he softly breathes against her skin, a sound captured on the back of his throat.

“You’re stupid, you know that?” He says over her lips, making her chuckle before resting another peck on his skin, hiding her face on his neck soon after.

“What a thing to tell a girl after you’ve kissed her.”

“I could’ve been kissing you since way before this, but you had to make things complicated.” His fingers tingle against her skin, even when he’s still holding her waist above the thick hoodie, and when she pulls away, she hears him speak again, timbre low. “Still as good as you remembered it?”

“Just as good.”

“Not better?”

“You’re still very patient. I’ve always liked that.” She grasps his face in between her hands, looking into his eyes. “No one kisses like that anymore.”

“Is this the ‘getting the guy I’m dating’s ego as big as Jupiter’ challenge?”

Her eyebrows frown at his words, his lips dancing along her own once again, spine curved the slightest to join him in the middle before laughter interrupts their kiss. “Since when am I dating someone?”

“Oh, right now.” Kunhang’s confidence, ever-present, becomes apparent when he pats her ribcage. “You can’t just expect a guy not to want to date you, the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a while, when you tell him he’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.” He shrugs. “You owe me four years of dates and kissing.”

“Okay, alright. Fair. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“And we get to kiss on places outside a closet.” Kunhang stipulates. “I’m sweating my ass off.”

“That’s so romantic.” Sarcastically, she adds, only to hear keys dangling outside the closet.

“You guys have talked it out?” Dejun asks from the other side of the door, only to have Kunhang standing up, knocking on the door.

“Yeah.” He says, pressing his forehead to the door. “But you better open this door up before you have a talk with the foot that I’m going to put up your ass.”

“Alright. Talk time is over. Time to let the dogs out.” Dejun tells someone, presumably Chaeryeong, before he opens the door to the closet, not missing out on the way Kunhang wraps his arm around his neck and keeps him locked in place. “Ow!”

“Are you crazy?!”

“You two talked it out! I had to do it!”

“That was the stupidest idea you could have, Dejun.” She adds, crossing her arms across her chest. “You’ve now downgraded to the Dumber position in the trio.”

Or, the methods weren’t just the best…but at least, she can say one thing.

Wong Kunhang is still the best kisser she has gotten the chance to try.

#hendery scenarios #hendery #wayv scenarios #nct scenarios #nct #wayv #writing #wayv fluff #wayv angst #wayv au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct au #college!au #i don't know what else to add fdanjfndaj but i like this!

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clairenatural · 4 years

Text

look at you, strawberry blond

destiel, 1.8k. pining, fluff, growing up together, etc! minor character/parental death, vague mention of John’s A+ Parenting. based on the mitski song (this is a repost because the first one got deleted)

I love everybody because I love you

Castiel first learns what love is when he’s eight years old and Gabriel, sixteen, is grumbling about driving an hour out of his way to find his girlfriend the rare chocolates she likes for Valentine’s day.

“Why?” he asks his older brother, and Gabriel sighs, melodramatic as always.

“That’s love, little bro. Remembering the little things and then putting in the time to make it happen.”

Cas thinks about when he told Dean his parents don’t let him eat candy. He thinks about how Dean has given him half his Kit Kat bar every day for the last year.

He thinks about the time he scraped his knee falling off the jungle gym and Dean spent the rest of recess picking dandelions to make him feel better. Yellow is his favorite color.

“Oh.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older, Cassie. Love is about sacrifice, and commitment--” he goes on, but by the time Michael cuts him off, yelling from his office that you’ve only been dating for two months, Gabriel, stop preaching to Castiel, Cas has already sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom.

A broken piggy bank, $1.50 in pocket change, and several pleas to Gabriel later, and Castiel tucks a king-sized Kit Kat into Dean’s valentine box.

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

When you stood up, walked away, barefoot

It’s eight years later, one summer in high school, when Castiel realizes that there’s a difference between loving and being in love, and that he is, in fact, in love with his best friend.

He realizes this as he watches Dean walk away, sandals discarded and unnecessary in the soft grass, back to the picnic tables to get them both more fruit punch. It’s the annual junior class picnic, the official welcome to being upperclassmen, and the August sun casts a warm glow over Dean’s freckles, and Castiel knows.

Two seconds later, he watches Dean nearly get hit by an errant frisbee and completely forget his punch mission in lieu of playfully tackling its thrower, Benny Lafitte. He watches Lisa Braden, giggly and glowing and perfect as always, yelp as she’s almost caught in the crossfire, and Dean winks at her as he releases Benny.

He swallows thickly and turns his attention back to the patch of grass they’d been laying in, flattened where Dean had been just a few moments before. He wishes he hadn’t come to this particular realization.

And the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape I looked over it and I ached

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

I love everybody because I love you I don't need the city, and I don't need proof

Castiel goes to college in Chicago and pretends like the two-hour drive between them doesn’t mean anything. And it doesn’t, until Dean’s father gets a job back in Kansas halfway through his freshman year. Dean goes with him even though he’s an adult because the alternative is letting Sam deal with John alone, so Castiel spends most of that summer in Lawrence, dodging both his friends in the big city and his family back in Pontiac. He tells them all that he’s studying Kansas’ role in the Civil War, assisting in research back at the University, but he and Dean spend two months going on road trips with Sam.

His sophomore year John dies and Castiel flies back for the weekend, explaining his sudden departure as a family emergency and getting an extension on two papers. Dean holds his hand at the funeral but won’t look him in the eyes for two hours after, even as he refuses to leave Castiel’s side.

The boys move in with Bobby but that summer Dean shows up in Chicago, explanations lined up about not worrying about Sam anymore and wanting to see what about the city made Cas keep coming back. Castiel gets an internship and pretends like that was the plan all along. He quietly cancels his plane tickets to South Dakota.

All I need, darling, is a life in your shape I picture it, soft, and I ache

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

Reach out the car window, trying to hold the wind You tell me you love her; I give you a grin

Dean stays in Chicago. He moves into Castiel’s empty room when his original roommate moves out, he finds work at an auto shop, and he starts taking mechanic classes at a community college. Castiel isn’t sure why—he doesn’t want to ask. Afraid to look the gift horse in the mouth and risk having his happiness bitten off.

Then Dean starts talking about a girl. Then Castiel meets the girl, Cassie Robinson, and it all makes sense.

He pretends it doesn’t sting every time Dean brings her up, that the way his face lights up doesn’t burn, that he doesn’t feel physically ill the first time he meets her.

By the time Dean tells him he’s in love, gushing about Cassie in a way eerily reminiscent of Gabriel twelve years earlier, it’s turned into a dull ache that Castiel has mostly contained in the back of his chest. They’re on their way to Cassie’s apartment, the first stop on their way to a cabin spring break of their junior year, and the ache is suddenly threatening to break through his ribcage.

But the sun is warm on his cheek, and the radio is playing a soft summer soundtrack, so Castiel allows Dean’s happiness to wash over him long enough to forget who—or, more importantly, who isn’t—causing it. He grins at his best friend before turning his gaze back out the passenger window of the Impala.

Oh all I ever wanted was a life in your shape So I follow the white lines, follow the white lines, Keep my eyes on the road as I ache

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

Look at you, strawberry blond

Dean and Cassie break up, and Dean drinks for a month, but Castiel getting into Stanford for grad school distracts him just long enough to go back to normal (a normal that does not involve thinking about how Dean nearly kissed him when they were both drunk the night he got his acceptance).

This new normal involves staring graduation in the face, and California beyond that, and moving out of his Chicago apartment somewhere in this middle, which also involves coming to terms with moving away from Dean.

Until Sam gets his own acceptance to Stanford a few months later. Then Dean starts sending him links to two-bedroom apartments, and using “we” when talking about the move, and looks just as confused as Castiel when he asks about it.

“Well, yeah. I mean, with you gone, and now Sam—You thought you were going by yourself?”

And even though Castiel vaguely thinks this is a bad idea, and living with his best friend who he’s been in love with for his entire memory had been hard enough for the two years they’d been doing it, he can’t say no. Because every time he gets up the nerve to say something Dean calls him over and shoves his laptop into Castiel’s face, talking about hiking trails and flower fields and front lawns and dogs, and that quells any doubt he had.

They move to Palo Alto, into a townhouse with a lawn and a communal garden. Dean adopts a golden retriever.

Fields rolling on, I love it when you call my name

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

Can you hear the bumblebees swarm? Watching your arm

Two months into Castiel’s first year of graduate school they have a picnic, taking advantage of the lingering warmth of the California fall. Sam is off in the field playing with Zeppelin, obviously having used the ‘come meet my brother’s dog’ excuse to invite the pretty blonde woman (Jess?) chasing the golden with him. Dean is rambling about Star Trek and Castiel is paying half attention, the majority of his focus on the reading in front of him because professors don’t consider picnics an extension-worthy excuse.

He’s just started to get invested when he hears a yelp and looks up to see Dean Winchester, his best friend, most trusted confidant and the possible love of his life, swatting a bumblebee. Cas gasps, reading forgotten, and lunges across the picnic blanket to grab Dean’s wrist. “Dean.” He chastises, and Dean gives him a look.

“It’s a bee, Cas.”

“It’s a bumblebee, which are essential—”

“To our ecosystem, yeah, but it’s pretty essential to me that it doesn’t sting me.”

“It won’t sting you if you don’t swat at it.”

“You didn’t see the look on it, man. It meant business.”

“Bees are attracted to sugar. You probably just smell good.”

Dean grins. “You calling me sweet, Cas?”

And, well, no. He isn’t. He’s talking about the empty pie tin next to Dean. But the words make him realize just how close they are, how far he’d moved into Dean’s space in his efforts to stop his hand, how the force of the movement had pushed Dean almost back onto his elbows.

He opens his mouth to respond the way he usually does to Dean’s cavalier flirting, but the words don’t leave his mouth—which is, somehow, he swears, closer to Dean’s than it was a second ago. Just as Castiel is preparing to push back, clear his throat, and add this moment onto a growing list of almost-but-not-quite moments stretching back years, Dean sucks in a breath and closes the gap.

Castiel reacts before his brain can fully comprehend what’s going on, bypassing any shock entirely and kissing Dean back immediately. He lets go of his wrist, instead bringing his hand to the side of Dean’s face, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. Dean pushes himself back up and wraps an arm around Castiel’s waist, pulling him essentially into his lap, and then they’re kissing, and Dean smells like summer and tastes like apple pie, and Castiel suddenly understands more than ever why bees are always buzzing around him.

It feels like a lifetime until it’s over, until they’re just staring at each other and out of breath, both scared to say anything and break the magic they’d accidentally created. The silence is only broken by a shout from across the grass, followed shortly by a tennis ball that nearly misses them, followed by 65 pounds of golden retriever that does not miss them and nearly topples Castiel in his pursuit of the ball. And then Sam comes running after the dog, still shouting—apologies, this time—and then there’s Jess, laughing hysterically, and then Castiel has to scramble out of the way because Zeppelin has made a U-turn, interpreting the whole commotion as a game of keep-away.

Dean meets his eye above the chaos and grins, and the sunlight hits his dirty blonde hair, and it’s so breathtaking Castiel almost forgets to smile back.

I love it when you look my way.

#destiel fluff #deancas fluff #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel #fic #spn #i told myself i wasn't gonna repost this but this verse lives rent free in my head so like. here u go sorry #also i like it and want it on my blog!!!#my words #(tumblr actually put this in the tags challenge)#over 1k words

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louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years

Note

omg can u write a second part to that secret rowaelin / aelins birthday party one shot, I NEED to know how that continues.. and maybe another one shot from when they realised that they're not actual just fuckbuddys but in love ahhhh I love this AU and u writing is so GOOD

I’m so glad you like it!! I was planning on writing the Halloween scene, so I feel like this will end up being a small AU maybe? Like I’ll write the main parts of their story? Who knows. But I will definitely post the Halloween scene and the scene from when things changed... For now, here’s how explaining to their friends went

This is the part one. You really need to read it to understand what’s going on in this scene.

Birthday revelations

Aelin was frozen.

She was staring wide eyed at all of her friends standing in her living room. Their faces were the picture of astonishment and disbelief. She knew she should go up to them and explain everything but this isn’t how she had planned it out, so she merely snuggled closer to Rowan, his arms tightening around her.

They were so fucked.

“What the actual fuck?” Lysandra said, her voice a mix of perplexity and slight betrayal. “You two… But.. How? When?”

“Aelin, you fucking snake.” Manon said, but Aelin could see the humor gleaming on her eyes and that her smile was genuine. She seemed like the only one not completely pissed. Even Elide looked a little betrayed.

“Bro, you’re banging my cousin?” Aedion’s face contorted with disgust when he looked at Aelin’s bare legs and undoubtedly saw the handprints. Vaughan gave him a slap on the back of his head.

“Aedion, please.” Yrene said, her voice calm but her face a mask of shock as everyone else. “Let them recompose themselves. They obviously weren’t expecting us.”

“What are you all doing here?” Rowan finally said, even though it was obvious what they were doing here.

“What are we doing here? What are you doing here, Rowan?” Fenrys replied, crossing his arms. When Rowan opened his mouth again, Fen raised a hand dramatically. “Don’t answer that truthfully. I don’t want details.”

Aelin’s cheeks were on fire, and Rowan’s arms hugged her a little more tightly.

“Can you guys it down so we can explain?” She said, her voice steady despite how fast her heart was beating.

She didn’t want it to be like this, neither did Rowan. They wanted to sit them all down and explain everything on their terms. Rowan wanted to talk privately with Aedion, and Aelin sure as hell didn’t want Lysandra feeling as if she didn’t trust her. And now they had waited too long and everything went to shit.

Each one of their friends found a place to sit. Manon was sitting on Dorian’s lap, Yrene and Chaol by their side on the sofa. Nehemia and Asterin were on the loveseat, Nehemia’s arm tucking Asterin close. Fenrys and Connall each sat on one of the loveseat’s armrest, Vaughan standing behind Connall.

Lorcan, Gavriel, Sartaq, Nesryn, Borte and Ren took up the chairs by the table. Lorcan pulled a stiff Elide to sit on his lap, whispering something in her ear that made her relax a little.

Lysandra and Aedion remained where they were, arms crossed.

Rowan nudged Aelin forward and they approached everyone. He sat down on an armchair, taking Aelin with him. She could have sworn Aedion flinched at that.

Rowan started to make soothing circles on her thigh, and she held one of his hands with both of hers, sweeping her fingers over his knuckles. Despite it all, Rowan seemed calm. He was lazily leaning on the armchair, completely content to hold his girlfriend on his lap, play with her thigh and tell all of her friends and her cousin how he had been sleeping with her behind their backs.

“So, you guys are banging.” Asterin broke the silence.

Borte snorted. “Obviously. The girl looks like she just got railed, so unless they play some very wild type of boardgames in her room while in the dark, yes, they are banging.”

“Borte, for the love of god.” Nesryn murmured at the same time Sartaq said, “Borte, shut the fuck up.”

Rowan sighed, deeply and suffering. “Yes, we are…”

“Banging.” Nehemia added.

“Can we please stop using the word ‘bang’?” Chaol muttered.

“Pardon.” Nehemia looked at him impatiently. “Fucking, then.”

Chaol rolled his eyes and Aelin couldn’t help but snort.

“How?” Dorian asked, his voice dripping disbelief. After Lys, Dorian was probably the person who heard Aelin complaining about Rowan the most.

Despite herself, Aelin found herself saying, “You want to know how we fuck?”

Rowan, Vaughan, Manon and Asterin were the only ones that laughed.

“I thought you hated each other.” Fen said, his brows furrowing.

“They did. I remember High School junior Aelin running after Rowan with a knife with the full intent of killing him.” Connall looked at his brother. “Unless they’re together since then and that was some type of kink.”

“Please, I don’t want to know Aelin’s kinks.” Ren looked pained.

“Please, I don’t want to know about Rowan’s kinks either.” Lorcan added, but his voice was full of humor. The asshole must have been finding this whole situation hilarious.

“Stop using Aelin, Rowan and kinks in the same sentence for the love of god.” Aedion pleaded.

“Let them explain.” Gavriel, always the voice of reason, interrupted.

“It started on Halloween.” She started only to be then interrupted by Aedion.

“You guys have been together for six months and told no one?” His eyes widened. “Oh my god. It was when I told Lin to stay in the apartment, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, and we haven’t been together for six months.” Aelin could feel Rowan losing his patience as he explained their situation. “We slept together six months ago, but it wasn’t anything important. It was just sex then.”

“But not anymore?” Elide asked, her voice low. Something glinted on her eyes.

“That’s impossible. A relationship between them is unbelievable.” Chaol snorted and Aelin felt Rowan’s hand tightening on her leg.

“No.” Aelin shrugged, losing her patience just like Rowan. She could understand them feeling hurt because neither Aelin nor Rowan had told them anything, but acting like her relationship with Rowan was wrong made her stomach turn. “We fucked around a bit. Months, actually. We couldn’t stand each other when we weren’t fucking in the beginning, it was honestly just sex. We didn’t feel like telling anyone because once it ended, we didn’t want things to get awkward. We didn’t want the jokes, or suggestions that we should just date. It was easy and simple and telling other people would make it too real.”

Surprisingly, Lorcan, Nesryn and Connall nodded. Fenrys relaxed, and even Borte was smiling at them the way Manon had since the beginning.

“Lys and Aedion had just started dating then, and they spent most nights in our apartment, so I would come here to see Ace. In the first few nights I would arrive, we would fuck and I would leave. Slowly I started coming earlier and we would eat something. I would spend the night and we would grab breakfast together. We became friends.” Rowan shrugged.

“So you two are fuck buddies?” Ren asked.

“No, things changed two months ago after an… incident.” Aelin said and Rowan squeezed her thigh. Aelin didn’t have to look back to know he was fighting a smile. “But then we didn’t know how to tell you guys that we had been fucking for four months and told no one. Ro thought it was better for the two of us to just sit down and tell everyone at once.”

“Ace thought it would be better if she talked to the girls and I talked to the guys.” Rowan finished for her. The tension from her body had vanished, and she was completely resting her back against Rowan’s chest.

“We discussed it for a month and decided to go with Ro’s idea. But then spring break came and everyone went off to somewhere else. We decided to tell when everyone was back. We were going to do it this week after my birthday but you guys came here today.”

“So, basically, you guys have been together for six months. One way or another.” Vaughan asked and Aelin and Rowan nodded.

“Hum, good for you.” Manon said, looking at Aelin. Nehemia, Yrene and Asterin nodded, a small smile playing on their lips.

“Is that why you almost kicked me out of here earlier?” Lys asked, genuinely curious. She didn’t look as pissed as she had in the beginning.

“No. I didn’t even know Ro was coming until I opened the door an hour ago.” She sat up, crossing her legs. Rowan shifted slightly to accommodate her on his lap, his hands now on her hips. “I just didn’t want you to ditch a night with your boyfriend to stay home with me.”

Lys nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. Aelin didn’t fool herself in thinking that Lys wasn’t hurt about her silence, but it was good to know her best friend wasn’t majorly pissed.

“So he’s your boyfriend?” Aedion asked her, but his eyes were on Rowan.

Rowan’s voice was hard when he replied for her. “Yes.”

The room was silent until Manon started laughing. And then Yrene, Nehemia and Asterin. Borte and Nesryn cackled, and Lys and Elide shared a knowing smile. The men only grunted.

“Pay up, assholes.” Elide said.

“What?” Rowan and Aelin said in unison.

“Sophomore year of High School Elide said the two of you would end up together at some point. The tension would just build up to a point that the two of you would either cut all ties or would fuck.” Lorcan grunted, taking out his wallet. “The girls agreed with her. The men said you guys would simply start ignoring each other after college. We bet a hundred and fifty each. We would get the money and split so it’s equal to everyone in each team.”

Aelin’s jaw fell. Rowan sat up then, eyes narrowing. “You have a bet of six years on us?”

“Yes.” Elide replied, happily. “And although me and Ms. Galathynius over there will have a chat about your relationship later, I can’t say I’m sad about going home tonight a hundred and eighty seven bucks richer.”

“You have a bet of six years on whether or not we would bang?” Rowan repeated, dumbfounded.

“I thought we agreed to stop using the word bang.” Chaol said.

“Yeah, bro, it’s fuck.” Connall nodded solemnly as he handed his money to Asterin.

“And who says we only have one?” Manon chirped, counting the money Dorian had painfully given to her.

“I hate every single one of you.” Aelin grunted, resting against Rowan’s chest again. She could feel his body shaking with laughter and had to bite her own lip to fight a smile.

“You hate me? I’m a hundred and fifty poorer and my best friend is banging my cousin. This can’t get worse.”

“You’ll have to see them together every day now. And when Aelin spends the night on your apartment or Rowan isn’t home, you’ll know exactly what’s happening.” Fenrys said, his tone helpful.

Aedion merely groaned.

Aelin turned and gave Rowan a quick kiss, getting up to talk to the girls privately. Rowan gave her ass a playful slap, and she heard Aedion groan again. One look at Rowan and he was smiling like a fiend.

Oh he was going to have fun torturing Aedion.

Aelin spent the rest of the night apologizing for her silence and telling her friends what the last six months had been like. She had a feeling Rowan was doing the same with the guys, but probably with a lot less detail if Aedion hadn’t thrown up on the floor yet.

“You’ll have to make up for it.” Elide said, but she didn’t seem pissed. “We understand why you didn’t tell us, but it still hurts a bit.”

“True.” Lys said as the others nodded.

“I know and I’m so sorry. You guys have no idea how many times I wanted to talk to one of you about Rowan or about something I was insecure about, especially when I started falling for him.” The girls smiled softly at that, even Manon. “But it wasn’t my decision alone, and I couldn’t go up to Ro and say ‘hey, would you mind if I told the girls about us fucking because I think I’m falling hard for you and don’t really know how to proceed?’”

Nesryn snorted, and Yrene put an arm around Aelin. “So you really like him, huh.”

Aelin looked over to Rowan. He was smiling at something Fenrys had said and that had left Aedion scowling. “Yeah, I do.” She said softly.

“This is so strange.” Borte murmured to Asterin.

“So…” Nehemia started, and her tone made Aelin snap her eyes back to her friends.

They were all smiling in a scary way.

“Now that we’ve got the forgiveness part out of the way…” Elide continued.

Aelin’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“How’s the sex?” Lysandra finished and despite herself, Aelin felt her cheeks heating. All the girls laughed at that.

“Good.” She answered, then smiled. “Like really fucking amazing. Best lay of my life.”

“We agree with Fenrys and we do not want details but…” Manon said. “You can be more specific.”

All the women nodded eagerly and Aelin laughed.

She quickly looked at Rowan before telling her friends exactly how Rowan had discovered every bit of her body and soul in the last six months.

She told them of the fighting. The befriending. The falling.

She told them how she was still falling, head first into the L-word zone.

She told them how she couldn’t be happier she was falling.

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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So Done

Daniel (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) & Reader (Trans Masc - using They/them pronouns)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic fluff, humor

Summary: Having a crush isn’t easy but having a friend who has a crush he thinks is hopeless is even worse. Dealing with the constant self-deprecation and agony, Y/N’s gotten used to it, but damn if they stop trying to convince Daniel otherwise. Cause that’s what best friends do.

Requested by my platonic spouse @hopeveon Here’s the fic you requested literal ages ago bro - sorry for the wait! Still, hope you enjoy it :) Love, Vy ❤

“If you don’t stop gazing dreamily at Taylor, I swear imma throw a french-fry at your forehead.“ I caught onto Daniel’s inability to focus on the conversation we were having quite early on so I just gave up on it. Well, not completely - he has a tendency of claiming he’s been listening to all I’ve said so I’ve just been rambling nonsense for the past ten minutes and he hasn’t reacted to ANYTHING. Yeah, he’s totally paying attention. TOTALLY.

It’s not like I mind it or anything - ok, sometimes I do, but what really bugs me is this dragging out of the inevitable love story that’s gonna occur here, no matter how hopeless he claims his case to be. Trying to beat that mindset out of him hasn’t proved to be effective nor has beating him out of that mindset so I’m just left to my own devices here because he’s starting to prove me wrong - he might actually be a hopeless case. Just not in the way he thinks.

“W-what?“ He suddenly snaps out of his odd state, turning to look at me with a baffled gaze. Probably the sound of Taylor’s name set him off. It seems to be the only way I can draw his attention.

You see, I’ve known Daniel since high school sophomore year which means I’ve seen him have several crushes and girlfriends over the years. However, I have never seen him whipped quite like this. My dude’s literally in love and completely star-struck. And very fucking discouraged in the romantic field for some reason. I don’t understand when or why this sudden change in him happened but I can’t say I’m a fan. He’s always been the confident one in our duo and I’ve seen him win over girls with a single conversation many times. Yet here he is, across the cafeteria from the girl he’s infatuated with, unable to work up the courage to even text her let alone go up to her and talk to her.

Instead, he sits here, pretending to be listening to me. Wonderful, but I’d like the old Daniel back please.

“I said it’d be cool if a meteor struck that dumbass who sits next to me in class.“ I say, my head tilted to the side, very unamused.

He furrows his brows, lost and confused as though he needs a map for the conversation, “And what does Taylor have to do with that?”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. I’m typically a person of average patience but right now I feel a really strong urge to grab neon signs and spell it all out for Daniel. I roll my eyes and take a deep breath so I don’t snap, “Nothing with the meteor, but she’s got plenty to do with the fact that you’re completely different compared to the Daniel I knew in high school.”

He shrugs his shoulders like an accused child that doesn’t wanna admit what they did wrong. “College changed me.”

I give him another eye-roll, more annoyed than the previous, “That’s bullshit. You were the same dumbass in freshman year too.” I say, observing as he insecurely pushes his food around the plate with the plastic fork, “It’s all got to do with Taylor. You can’t rattle my resolve there.”

It’s his turn to be annoyed - the audacity he has, damn. “Alright, thanks Y/N, great observations. How about you give me some solutions though? Seeing as how I’m a dumbass and all that.”

“Well you are...“ I reply, unbothered by his childish outburst, “...especially since I just gave you a solution to your damn problem: go and talk to her! You have like four classes together, do you really have nothing to discuss? Any interests in common? Anything?“

“I don’t know.” He sighs defeatedly, “We’ve never talked about our interests. But I bet she’s not a video game nerd like I am. Nor does she look like she’s into sports. The most we could have in common is music and who knows what kind of music she listens to.“

“Oh God, I’m on the brink of losing my sanity.“ I mutter under my breath, burying my face in my hands. This is literal agony. “Daniel, YOU’d know if you went up to her and talked to her! Meeting people isn’t a guessing game - and look who’s talking! I hate approaching people first too, but this case of yours is too severe.“

“You realize you’re being hypocritical right now?“ He dares to ask me.

“You realize you’re being an actual coward right now?“ I retort, narrowing my eyes at him with what I can only describe as a threat put into a look. Oh if looks could kill, I would’ve killed his doubts asap.

He tilts his head back, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back into his seat, “You can’t be serious....”

“They are serious, but more importantly - they are right.“ Says a voice I recognize immediately. One that belongs to the guy that just occupied one of the last two open seats at our table - Andrew. “And you gotta stop torturing yourself like this, Dan.“

“Yourself and us. This feels like watching paint dry with ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ as a soundtrack for it.“ I intervene, “It’s absolutely fucking brutal.“

Daniel’s gaze switches between Andrew and I, clearly defeated considering he’s been outnumbered and very clearly second-guessing his decision to be sitting here with us right now. “Two against one, this ain’t even fair.” He finally says through an uneasy sigh.

“It’s perfectly fair in democracy - two votes you go talk to Taylor, one - yours - for the opposite option.“ I shrug my shoulders, fist-bumping Andrew the table. “So...I think you know what you gotta do.“

His gaze does a few more back-and-fourths between the two of us before he mutters, “I’m so done with the two of you” and gets up out of his chair, headed to the other side of the cafeteria where Taylor’s seated with a few of her friends seniors.

“We’re done with you too!“ We call out to him in unison, watching as he walks away, no doubt having an inward debate on what to say or do.

“He’s gonna thank us one day.“ Andrew says, taking a sip of his soda.

I nod, a small smile appearing on my face as I say: “Ten bucks says he’ll get too in-depth about the weather.“

Andrew snorts, almost choking on his drink as he bursts out laughing, “I’m not picking that up, I can’t afford to lose another ten bucks to a bet with you.”

“Smart guy, smart guy.“ I chuckle, stealing the unopened soda can Daniel left behind. Considering he has sat down at the seniors’ table and appears to be making casual small talk by the looks of it, I don’t think he’ll be returning to complain about the stolen drink anytime soon.

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sunflowerhae · 4 years

Text

Lifeboat

N.J (2k)

A/N• this is purely indulgent. It also has quite heavy themes, but at this point are any of us surprised. I want to make something clear, the reader doesn’t do what she does bc of what happens with her and Jaemin (I’m trying not to spoil). I mean, that’s just a tip of the iceberg type situation. That being said, if you are having similar thoughts as our dear reader, please call your countries suicide hotline, and/or talk to someone you trust in your life. ALSO, I am not trying to romanticize any of the topics I wrote about, I’m trying to show that even the people that seem to have it all can be just as lost and broken as the rest of us, also that the most important thing you could be to a person is someone who asks them if they’re okay. Sometimes, that’s all a person needs - Someone to listen.

READ!⚠️angst, suicide,character death, drugs, heavy self-hating words, depiction of depression/mental illness, not specified, but insinuates⚠️

{🎵SOTS☁️; Lifeboat, Elle McLemore}

The world seemed to close in on you as you stared at the boy who stood before you with a hardened gaze in his eyes. While you only stood a good 3 feet away from him, you could feel the anger and helplessness radiating off of him, transferring itself onto you in sadness and heartbreak.

“Why?” Was the only thing you could manage to get past your lips.

“Y/n, it’s not that I don’t like you, of course I do. We’ve been dating for 2 years, but I’ve just been... uncomfortable almost the whole time. It’s not your fault, it’s just, your life. I can’t handle being with one of the most popular girls in school. You seem to have it all figured out, and everyone loves you, and I feel pushed to the side sometimes.” You didn’t understand why Jaemin was mad, but the small space under the bleachers where you both stood was enough to suffocate you to the point where you didn’t care to ask.

He didn’t understand.

They never understood.

No one.

You wanted to fight to save your relationship, but the words choked into the back of your throat, just like they did when Soojin would bully people in front of you, and you wanted to scream at her and pull the other person into your arms and whisper that it will all be okay and apologize apologize apologize, but you stayed rigid on her flank, silently trying to survive until you could get to Jaemins arms, or to the bottom of a beer bottle at yet another house party you were constantly forced to attend with your other two friends.

You choose to swallow your spit, and ask him, “is this because of soojin? Did she say something to you?” You knew your “dear” friend had a certain distaste for your long term boyfriend, because - as she had worded it - his kind doesn’t belong next to someone that Soojin had deemed acceptable enough to befriend (you); “His kind” being not necessarily the most popular. Him and his other friends were amazing people, and you wished you would have befriended them on the first day of freshman year, instead of the blonde girl in your Art 1 class that always had a red scrunchie. When Jaemin introduced you to them, you could tell they were hesitate to let you into their life - what with your position within your schools hierarchy system. You honestly didn’t blame them. However, after a while they warmed up to you, and you felt like you finally fit in with people. You thought these people would become your life long friends; long after you’ve left high school and forgotten all about the life you unwillingly lead.

You suppose that is no longer the case.

“No, yes, god I don’t know, y/n. It’s just, everything! You have friends that are bitches, and I never know when you’re just going to leave me and spread some terrible rumor about me!” He was silently yelling now. It was after school, and the football team was on the field - the other side of where you stood - practicing. There were people running on the track, cheerleaders practicing next to the field, leftover students wondering the grounds. Everyone was living, moving on with their lives and turning along with the Earth - why did you feel frozen? Why did you feel like nothing was ever going to keep moving and be okay and the world was never going to be beautiful again?

“Is that what you expect me to do, Jaemin? After two years of knowing me, is that what you think of me?”

“God, y/n, maybe! I see who you align yourself with so I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a bitch just like them!” You understood he was just hurting, like you, but that didn’t make the words hurt any less. You took a couple steps back from his figure with slow nods, before turning around fully and booking your way to your car.

Jaemin watched your retreating figure with tears curling into his eyes. He left not long after you did, still thinking about you on the way home. He didn’t know this at the time, but that was the last time he ever saw you. His first love, his first heartache.

You felt guilty.

You always did. You always had this insistent chewing at your intestines; this constant voice in your head telling you that everyone was better than you, and that you didn’t deserve the praise you got for being a good person.

You tried to fight the words and the icky feelings off with trips to the volunteer center - usually with Jaemin. You went that night, hoping that this constant pain in your heart after hearing jaemins smooth, venom-filled words would choke back and leave your system, like the terrible feelings usually did when you helped people. However, no matter how many people smiled at you, and no matter how many lives you got to help, the feeling only grew more and more.

You are worthless, y/n.

You only do charity work for your own need.

No one likes you.

You’ll never be loved.

Not even Jaemin loves you.

These ill thoughts were a normal occurrence for you. Usually, Jaemin would lay you down, rub your stomach, and whisper in your ear how beautiful you were to him, inside and out.

You were a nuisance and a waste to him, y/n.

The feelings never left, and you could tell people knew something was wrong with you, so you chose to leave the center early. On your way out, a familiar face had asked you where Jaemin was. You pretended you didn’t hear them.

Your room was dark. Usually, if you couldn’t have Jaemin, you would go to your parents. However, they were away at a dinner event for your mother’s work. You would never go to Soojin, and while you loved Haeyong, she had a tendency to tell Soojin about what you two privately talked about; always trying to get brownie points with the blonde girl who seemed to secretly hate her. You figured there was someone you could go to, and it didn’t hurt to try.

Y/n [10:57pm] u up???? I kinda need someone to talk to rn hAha. Read

Y/n [10:59pm] hello? 👉👈 Read

Y/n [11:02pm] Haechan why r you leaving me on read bro?? Ik he’s your best friend, but we don’t have to talk about him, I just need someone to talk to pLS pls. Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:02PM

Haechan [11:03pm] listen y/n we shouldn’t talk anymore, I’m sorry. You were a good friend, but Jaemin was and always will be first to me. And he’s right, we never know when you’re going to do a 180 on us and tell all of our secrets to everyone. We can’t - and never have been able to - trust you. I’m sorry, really. You’re a popular girl. You don’t need us, you’ll forget. When we became friends with you, we didn’t really want to, Jaemin kinda forced us to, I hope u understand. :/ we’ll forget about u, u forget about us. Deal? Read

Y/n [11:04pm] um ok. Sorry for bothering you all, have a good night Read

Y/n [11:03pm] when will u be home?Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:04PM

Mom [11:06pm] not for a while, ask Jaemin to come over if you’re scared of being alone. Read

Y/n [11:06pm] mom i hate to be annoying but can u and dad come home rn??? I need u Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:06PM

Mom [11:08pm] are you dying? Has someone broken in? Are you unsafe?Read

Y/n [11:08pm] um,,,,no Read

Mom [11:10pm] well then no y/n. You know how much this award means to me, I’ve been constantly working lately and finally might get recognized for it. If I leave now, I might not get it. Can whatever you need wait? Read

Y/n [11:11pm] Um yeah. I love u Read

Mom [11:12pm] u too💖 Read

Why were you never first?

Why was there no one who asked you if you were okay?

If there was, what would you say?

See y/n? No one likes you.

You’re a bother to them.

Maybe you should fix that.

Maybe if you made their lives easier, they would love you.

You didn’t deserve their love, but maybe?

Maybe the pills could love you.

They were always there for you.

Maybe, they could help others love you too.

Love love love love.

Maybe.

They say your parents found you in bed.

They thought you were sleeping. I mean, all your lights were off, it was late.

But in the morning, when your mother came to wake you up and saw that your eyes were wide open, well....

They found the note on your desk across the room.

It was dated a year before.

You had written it a year before.

Everyone admitted that it was such a beautiful note. Heartbreaking? Yes. gut-wrenching? Of course. But beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

They gathered everyone into the gym the next day in intervals. Freshman, who didn’t understand what was really happening, but had heard your name and definitely knew who you were, and could put two and two together.

Next, the sophomores. Like the freshman, they only had heard of you. Some had met you, some cried. You were kind, they knew.

After them, the juniors. Chenle and Jisung were sitting in the corner. Jisung was sobbing into Chenle’s lap, while silent tears fell down the olders’ face. You had always been willing to play video games with them, and were such a kind hearted person. They remember last night, when they were all sitting together and haechan had read your texts you sent out loud, and all of them were so busy feeling for Jaemin, that they blindly informed Haechan on what he should say. On how to break your heart. Chenle wished Haechan had called her.

Finally, the seniors. Soojin and Haeyong sat in the back, as always. They were both upset because you had not been answering their texts.

Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin were sitting on the other side. They had not been told what the assembly was about, but when the teacher got the call about it, halfway through math, she sat at her desk for a couple of seconds with her head in her hands. They knew whatever the assembly was about was not good.

Haechan was the first to react out of the four.

He whispered your name silently with wide eyes rounded on his face. His mind went to the first time you met him. You played him in a round of Overwatch to get him to warm up to you, and easily beat him. Besides Jaemin, he was probably the one you were closest to.

Jeno just kept looking at his lap with evident tears denting dark spots onto his jeans. Renjun, who was sitting next to Jaemin, couldn’t take his eyes off the boy to his right, terrified that he would faint.

Jaemin felt sick. He knew he looked pale, and his head felt a bit dizzy. He tasted metallic in his mouth, and finally registered that he was biting the inside of his cheek so hard, he was drawing blood. He wanted to leave, but he was too far up on the risers to get down.

Soojin cried. It was uncharacteristic of her, but at this point she didn’t care. How had she not seen it? Was she that self centered that she had really not seen it on you? Her best friend?

Haeyong wished you had called her, wished you had told her. But why would you? She knew she didn’t deserve to hear your heartache, but she still wished.

They read out your note. Your beautiful, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching note. They read it. And the student body listened.

I float in a boat

In a raging black ocean

Low in the water

And no where to go

The tiniest lifeboat

With people I know

Cold,

Clammy and crowded

The people smell desperate

We’ll sink any minute

So someone must go

The tiniest lifeboat

With people I know

Everyone’s pushing

Everyone’s fighting

Storms are approaching, there’s no where to hide

If I say the wrong thing

Or I wear the wrong outfit

They’ll throw me right over the side

I’m hugging my knees

And the captain is pointing

Well who made her captain?

Still, the weakest must go

The tiniest lifeboat

Full of people I know

The tiniest lifeboat

Full of people I know

Lemme know if you’d like a part two? Idk. Like I said this is purely indulgent so it’s not that good sorry :///

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carmenlire · 4 years

Text

Become Your Flower

read on ao3

Jimin sits down behind the register with a sigh. Working as a dining hall card swiper has one perk and one perk only-- it pays for the part of tuition not covered by loans and scholarships.

Thankfully today is only a two hour shift, not his usual four, and so as he reaches out to start swiping about a hundred campus I.D. cards, Jimin tells himself that it could be worse.

That’s never been truer towards the end of his shift, when his ass is mostly numb and he’s starting to look for his replacement to show up at any minute. On Thursday mornings, his replacement is always an extremely dour sophomore who spends more time on her shift looking at her phone than actually swiping meal plans.

Jimin’s seen regulars during her shifts swipe their own cards without hesitation as Jessica obliviously continues to stare at her phone.

Still. There’s about eight minutes left until shift change when Jimin sees him.

Jimin doesn’t know much about the guy that comes to the Dining Hall every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday morning. He knows that his fashion runs towards black oversized clothing and that he has eclectic taste in music, thanks to wildly varying noise that can be heard from his headphones that the student always, without fail, pulls down to around his neck when checking out.

It’s a small gesture, but Jimin appreciates the hint of politeness. They never talk more than the guy murmuring a small thanks as Jimin accepts his card and runs it, before he’s walking away.

On Tuesdays, the kid likes to sit for awhile at one of the small tables along the edge of the floor to ceiling windows in the dining area. Sometimes he's reading but more often than not, he has a sketchbook out or his laptop open and seems to be completely focused on its contents. On Mondays and Thursdays, he’s usually running around picking up his usual bottle of banana milk and a breakfast burrito or protein bar before barreling out and ostensibly off to class.

Maybe Jimin pays a bit more attention to him than he does to the other students he sees with unerring frequency but he just can’t help it. Jimin doesn’t know his name but he’s pieced together a dozen tidbits of information that all add up to making the guy someone he would love to get to know better.

At the top of that list? This guy somehow manages to be both a cutie and mouthwatering, dangerously hot. It’s a level of attractiveness that sometimes makes Jimin shy away in the face of such sheer beauty. For all his oversized clothing, the guy is built-- witnessed by the one time Jimin saw him out of the dining hall one evening when he spotted the guy walking back to his dorm from the gym.

In a sleeveless tank that showed off the tattoos winding their way up his arm, with his hair damp and falling into his eyes, Jimin was done for. The next time he’d seen his favorite customer, Jimin had fumbled with his card and it had fallen to the floor.

As he’d felt his face start to burn with embarrassment at his clumsiness, the cute guy had dropped and picked up his I.D., handing it over to Jimin again with a small smile before leaving promptly like always.

Inside, Jimin had been dying but he’d managed to give a curt nod of thanks and acknowledgement back-- mostly after the guy had left but still. He’d tried.

All of which, brings Jimin to now where cute student walks into the cafeteria looking like death warmed over. His hoodie swallows him up and his hair is a mess-- looks like a combination of having left his place without running a brush through it, like he’s been running a hand through it in frustration instead. He’s single minded as he walks to the cooler where flavored milks are kept and Jimin thanks the little lull just after breakfast time for being able to, unobtrusively of course, watch the kid pick up a protein bar before he’s starting towards the register where Jimin sits.

Eyes flying down to the screen that he stares at with a laser focus, Jimin sees the guy reach for the pocket of his jeans for his wallet absently. However, he looks up when the guy starts patting his back pocket with a sort of furious panic that can only mean one thing.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, though, as he lets the guy rummage around in his bookbag looking for his student I.D. From his periphery, he sees his replacement walking towards him.

Sparing a moment to marvel at how she never trips or runs into anything with her eyes glued to her phone, Jimin reaches out to get the guys attention.

“Misplaced your meal card?”

The guy looks up with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He stammers a little, voice gruff like he hasn’t used it in a few days. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I got all the way here just to realize I left it at home.” Shoulders falling with a dejected sigh, he takes a step back. “I’ll just go put everything back, sorry again--”

“Hey,” Jimin says softly, trying to gently stop the waterfall of words coming out in an embarrassed hush. “Don’t worry about it.”

Without letting himself think too much about it, Jimin swipes his own meal plan before looking up at cute guy with a soft grin. “You’re good to go. Enjoy your breakfast.”

The guy glances between the register and Jimin’s face, which isn’t red at all thank you very much. “You shouldn’t have done that; what if you get into trouble? I should have doublechecked to make sure I had my card before making you do this--”

Laughing a little at the guy's face, which is painted in equal shades of relief and guilt, Jimin just waves his concern away. “I promise no one cares that much and no offense, but you look like you could use a good deed. I’m fine, you’re fine, no one’s getting in trouble. Looks like a win-win-win to me, doesn’t it?”

Jimin doesn’t let the smile leave his face as the guy narrows his eyes at him for a minute, looking like he’s trying to see into Jimin’s soul to make sure he hasn’t inconvenienced him. Finally, he sighs and Jimin relaxes too at his acceptance.

“Okay then,” the guy offers with his own smile curving his mouth. “Thank you,” he says with an earnest sort of sincerity that makes Jimin want to reach out and pinch his cheek. “I really appreciate it. I’ve been up for 36 hours finishing a midterm and I think I walked here in a fugue state.”

Jimin nods in understanding. “Midterms are hell, second only to finals. I hope you ace your class and that your victory breakfast is a nice enough reward for surviving a couple of all-nighters.”

With a sheepish laugh, the guy resettles his bookbag on his shoulder and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sure it will. Thanks again.” Then he’s gone with an awkward wave.

Jimin doesn’t watch him leave, immediately startled by the curt clearing of a throat behind him. Spinning around in his chair, he barely manages to stop from rolling his eyes at his replacement looking annoyed as she types furiously on her phone.

“You were done two minutes ago. Get out of my chair and get to class, Park.”

Going ahead and rolling his eyes, Jimin doesn’t say anything as he logs out of his employee account and leaves the Dining Hall.

Most of the day goes by quickly. He has a couple of classes into the early afternoon followed by his dance elective. Hoseok, his favorite person in the group, is in a chatty mood when practice ends as he dramatically explains how a couple of his other friends need to get over themselves and just start to date already. Jimin laughs along as he hears about how much of an idiot these guys are being.

Apparently, the latest fiasco involves Yoongi making weekly playlists for a Joon and Joon recommending books to Yoongi, which they discuss every week at their favorite coffeeshop. Hoseok takes great pains to explain that he’d joined them the first time thinking nothing of their passing invitation only to see them cozied up together in an oversized chair in the corner, sipping their coffee and holding hands as they took turns arguing their stances on the book's subliminal messages.

“It’s maddening, Jiminie. Honestly, those two are so gone for each other and they don’t seem to realize that it’s not a bro thing to create a playlist titled Songs Almost as Comforting as One of Hyung’s Hugs and that friends don’t just discuss how romantic it would be if they had a partner who was as loving as the hero in whatever damn novel they’re were reading last month. The hinting is so obvious that it’s giving me headaches, I swear.”

“Ah Hoseokie-Hyung, maybe they’re enjoying this in between time, you know? I’m sure they’re both aware of where it’s heading but they want to enjoy the journey. Did you ever think about that?”

Hoseok snorts, leaning down to grab his water bottle before continuing. “No,” he says shortly. “Yoongi-hyung and Joon are just deeply oblivious of the other’s feelings and at this rate, they won’t have their first date until they’re old and gray.” Pausing to take a deep drink of water, Hoseok sighs. “I guess I’ll admit that neither of them seem miserable in their pining. They’ve been best friends since before I joined the-- ah, since before I started school here. It’s always been the two of them, you know?”

Humming a little in thought, Jimin wonders what it would be like to fall so naturally from friends to something more. He has Taehyung and they’re both very vocal on being platonic soulmates, but he can’t help but think that finding someone who has the warmth of a best friend and the devotion of a lover sounds like something else altogether.

With a little pang of his heart-- Jimin’s been tragically single since the end of his freshman year over a year ago-- he squashes down on the mild envy he has for people he’s never even met.

His thoughts break off as he realizes that he still hasn’t answered Hoseok and his friend is looking at him with the shrewd look he usually only reserves for reviewing dance videos.

Clearing his throat, Jimin just manages to offer, “It must be nice,” and thankfully Hoseok changes the subject with a deftness that doesn’t make Jimin feel put on the spot as they start talking about how difficult this new choreo is becoming.

Groaning, Jimin starts to stretch as Hoseok joins him on the floor. “I thought I was in shape but this song makes me feel like an old man. I’m going to start having to up my cardio so I can keep up.”

They commiserate for a few more minutes before Hoseok pulls himself to his feet and starts packing up, citing his evening class across campus. Waving him on, Jimin stretches a few more minutes while replying to the few dozen texts Tae had sent him during the day about new drama he had decided to start watching and was now nine episodes into.

He takes his time back to his apartment off campus and when he opens the front door, he’s immediately assaulted with the view of Taehyung in the living room, raptly watching his show while absently tossing goldfish crackers into his mouth. Watching him for a moment, Jimin doesn’t even bother to sigh as over half the fish miss his mouth entirely to land somewhere on-- or in-- their couch.

“Hey, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung greets him distractedly.

“Hey, Taetae. Show still good?” Jimin ruffles his best friend’s hair on his way to his bedroom.

Leaning into the touch, Tae hums in affirmative. “Have you gotten your crush’s number yet? Or even found out his name?”

Jimin huffs at the directness. He might’ve come home after his first shift of the semester only to regale Taehyung with the story of how a student at the dining hall had walked up to the end of the check-out line that morning-- radiating an intimidating aura, especially in his all black get-up-- before he’d watched the guy help the person behind him in line collect all their loose change that had fallen out of their purse and all over the floor.

It was like night and day between the guy’s abashed smile as he waved off the thanks as he picked up pennies and when he’d first walked in, expression neutral and looking like he’d flay anyone alive who dared to talk to him.

Sighing as he thinks about what had happened this latest morning, Jimin pouts. “No but I paid for his breakfast and he was all adorable and flustered about it so we’ll count today as a win.”

“You know,” Taehyung starts, eyes not leaving the television screen where it looks like someone is either about to get murdered or railed to within an inch of their life, “The way you describe him, he seems like a bit of a lone wolf type. Reserved but with a warm, gooey center. Maybe you just need to, like, befriend him. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to make the first move.”

“It’s not as easy as you think to make a move, Tae,” Jimin gripes. “I don’t even know if he’s interested in me.”

Sighing like the weight of the world’s on his shoulders, Taehyung finally looks up at Jimin. “That’s why I’m telling you to become his friend, dummy. You like him, he doesn’t sound completely off-put by you, it’s time to progress to the next level. Friendship. Maybe once you two know each other a little more, he’ll get more comfortable around you and then bam! You’re married with three dogs and a pink picket fence.”

“White picket fence, Taetae. Not pink.”

Taehyung just waves that away. “Pink is more homey. Anyway. We're two months into the semester and you still don't even know his name. Time to face your crush and actually do something about it before you end up living in the apartment over my garage and crashing into my main house every evening bemoaning how your life turned out like this.”

“You don’t have a garage. Or a house. You don’t even have a complete set of towels.”

“Then it will be all the more impressive when I move into McMansion and graciously allow you to live with me rent-free.”

Jimin snorts, feeling lighter with his best friend’s antics. At least his love life isn’t as dire as it could be, he guesses.

Still, he doesn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of knowing he’s given him food for thought so Jimin just ruffles his friend’s hair again and hauls himself and his bookbag to his bedroom without another word.

Taehyung is immediately engrossed back into his show, muttering something about the betrayal of the sister-in-law.

Closing the door behind him, Jimin empties his bookbag. He finishes the readings for a couple of classes tomorrow and resolutely does not think about how he could woo-- befriend-- the extremely cute student he only sees three minutes a week.

There’s only a couple of hours of daylight left when Jimin surfaces, stretching his arms over his head and straightening from his desk, highlighter still in hand.

Tossing the highlighter onto his desk and shutting his anatomy textbook firmly closed, he stands and grumbles to himself for a few minutes before he figures that he should probably go for a run before it gets dark.

He really wasn’t exaggerating earlier with Hoseok. He’s only halfway through his first semester of junior year and it seems like everything’s been kicked up a notch, including his dance group. Hoseok is the new leader since it’s his senior year with Jimin as a sort of second-in-command and as the two of them had planned out the upcoming year over the summer, they’d agreed that they wanted to try something new and challenge themselves.

They’ve certainly succeeded, Jimin thinks wryly as he walks to the front door and laces up his running shoes. The two of them were having a blast experimenting with different styles and genres and putting together choreography with it all. Thankfully, the other dozen people in the group seemed to be enjoying the new creative lead from Hoseok’s predecessor and while it’s challenging, it’s also fun and stress-relieving in a way Jimin craves.

That doesn’t mean the newest song they’re putting together isn’t a lot to handle, though. Jimin can barely make it to the second verse of the song before he feels winded and Hoseok is noticeably pushing himself by the bridge.

Warming up with a light jog as he gets out of the congested student apartments and starts towards the park trail on the edge of campus, Jimin plans the rest of his evening. He still has a paper to write for tomorrow’s gen literature class and he has a case study for his political science class due in the morning along with a discussion post.

Could be worse, Jimin thinks with a huff as he kicks it up a notch to a steady pace along the trail blacktop. While running isn’t Jimin’s favorite way to pass the time, he knows that he needs to do something to increase his endurance and it’s almost relaxing-- enjoying the fresh autumn air all alone with his thoughts.

One of his favorite things about this university is that it’s bordered by a nature reservation on one side. Although he doesn’t take advantage of it as often as he’d like, it’s nice to get away from a bustling campus and busy college town. There are only a few other runners out this late and he’s in a good mood as he lets whatever stress had built up over the day flow out of him.

Jimin decides to veer off onto a gravel path when the trail splits. It’s a little overgrown but as he climbs up an incline, settling into each stride and definitely feeling the strain in his thighs, he decides this might just be his favorite stretch so far.

It’s like there’s no one else but him and nature and while Jimin knows he’s a city boy through and through, there’s a calmness in being so isolated that puts him at ease.

He’s almost to the top of the hill and his breath is definitely labored as he watches the ground right in front of him, steering clear of any roots or particularly jagged rocks when something falls into his periphery.

Flicking his eyes up, Jimin comes crashing to a stop, almost falling on his face as he slips over a rough patch of gravel.

Suddenly, his breathing sounds cacophonous in the quiet of the woods, under the piercing stare of a pitch black wolf.

Jimin stares at the creature. The creature stares back calmly although it’s preternaturally still.

He’d always thought wolves were just a little bit bigger than dogs and now he feels like an idiot because the wolf standing alert a dozen yards from him is definitely bigger than a dog.

Jimin swallows harshly and thinks that it would almost come up to his chest if they were side by side.

So very slowly, Jimin tugs his headphones out and lets them fall around his neck. He doesn’t take the attention away from the wolf to turn his music off and it’s another tinny noise that buzzes around him like a pile of bees.

They’re still staring at each other.

Jimin doesn’t know what to do in this situation. He doesn’t want to run away because what if the wolf attacks? There’s no question the wolf is terrifying, large and intimidating and so clearly a predator, completely at ease in the woods. At the same time, he feels like a dolt just standing here and waiting to be eaten.

There’s a dignified elegance to the wolf as he watches Jimin with gold eyes that seem to soak up the starting sunset. If Jimin didn’t know better, he’d almost think the wolf had been caught off guard at first before he’d stilled at seeing Jimin on the trail.

Calling himself a dumbass even as he opens his mouth, Jimin tries to put on his best soothing voice. “I’m not here to hurt you and I hope you’re not going to hurt me.”

The wolf doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound, so Jimin continues, “I’m just out for a run and I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t eat me. My roommate, Taehyungie, would be very displeased if there was no one to brainstorm his podcast episodes with.”

The wolf huffs out a breath, tilts his head to regard Jimin with a faint hint of-- is that amusement? Deciding that the terror trickling down his spine and through his toes is probably driving him insane, Jimin holds up his arms in an appeasing gesture as he takes a single step back.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says in a voice higher than his usual register. “I’m just going to leave you to do whatever wolf activities you were up to before I interrupted-- catching butterflies? Rolling around in the grass?-- and we’ll forget this ever happened. I’m so sorry I disturbed you and I’ll just be on my way.”

Jimin waits for a long beat or two to make sure the wolf won’t suddenly lunge for him but to his surprise, the black wolf doesn’t move a muscle besides the slow sway of its tail.

In the heart pounding moments between Jimin’s little speech and him turning around to back down the hill, he studies the wolf with an intensity that surprises him. He catalogs the gold eyes that seem to know more than they should and the thick obsidian fur that he has an inexplicable urge to bury his hands in to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

For a moment, Jimin is too mesmerized to be scared and it’s only when the wolf abruptly turns his head to the left, towards the deepest part of the woods, that Jimin startles and realizes that he needs to go and he needs to go now.

He doesn’t know why but he dips a little in a bow before muttering, “Thanks for not making me puppy chow,” and then he turns around and carefully leaves, heart thundering with the fear the the wolf could decide to attack at any moment, lunging for him without him knowing.

He can’t quite believe it but Jimin makes it back to the main path without incident. He bends over at the waist, lightheaded, and feels like he could almost collapse in relief at not having been torn to shreds.

Jimin picks up the pace as soon as it feels like he’s not going to keel over. All of a sudden the nature reservation that had felt relaxing in its isolation digs creepy tendrils of apprehension into him.

When he finally crosses over from the park into campus, he breathes a huge sigh of relief. He tells himself that he’ll just go to the rec from now on and climb on a treadmill if he wants to work on his cardio.

He tells himself that he won’t go back to the park or follow unbeaten paths again, not when the October breeze sends such a shiver down his spine.

He feels something watching him from the moment he turns his back from the wolf all the way to the edge of campus and tells himself he’s overreacting even as he can’t stop himself from searching the edge of the trail for gold eyes or a trailing shadow.

He doesn’t see anything amiss and he definitely doesn’t feel disappointed as he makes it back to his apartment without catching sight of the wolf again.

Stumbling through the door, Jimin toes off his shoes and heads directly to the bathroom, not even noticing Taehyung in the living room working on a painting by the last light of the day.

Jimin sums up his evening with an effusive thank God I wasn’t mauled to death and resolves to forget anything ever happened.

#my writing #become your flower #jikook #jikook fic #my first jikook fic how exciting!!#i hope i did them justice #this was so fun to write and had been in my head for weeks!!#jikook au

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the-ss-zemyx · 4 years

Text

PVP(umpkin Spice Lattes)

Zexion and Arpeggio are Discord friends. They chat in private messages, raid in Verum Rex together, and may or may not have feelings for each other.

Ienzo and Demyx are college roommates. They hate each other, for the most part. At least they can both agree on pumpkin spice lattes.

Happy 2nd Zemyx Day of 2020!!

Specifically for today, the S.S. Zemyx Discord Server hosted a collaborative fic-writing event! Over the course of the past five days, four of our writing members teamed up on a Google Doc in one glorious, inspirational, chaotic, frankenstein-esque fic-writing bonanza! That's right, the fic you're about to read is the product of -four- people's efforts! Enjoy!! :D

(A HUGE thanks to my co-writers: Aliceslantern, Ennarcia, and Carbonpixel. This was a hell of a lot of fun to do and I'm immensely proud of us!! - Mod Arxsia)

Also available on AO3!

__________

Demyx hated his roommate. Okay, no, hate was a strong word, and Demyx did his best to be a friendly, outgoing sort of guy, so ‘hate’ was definitely too strong a word. He liked to make friends. Having friends was nice. Having friends was very nice, and so, he tried to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But his roommate was a different story, and Demyx did not like his roommate very much at all.

At least he was easy on the eyes, because everything else about him got on Demyx’s last nerve. His name was Ienzo, but his name might as well have been "Jerk," with a capital J. When he wasn't hogging the Internet bandwidth doing God-knows-what on a chunky Alienware laptop, he was lecturing Demyx on the virtues of keeping the floor free from dirty clothes and giving empty soda cans a proper burial in the plastic wastebasket by the door. Lame. Also, he was a little condescending. That jerk .

One day, Ienzo burst into their dorm room with the gusto of a hurricane aiming to speak to a manager about a botched coffee order. He swung his laptop bag onto his mattress. It bounced when it landed. "Out," he commanded.

Demyx looked up from his phone. He sat with his legs crossed on his own bed, his Discord app open to a private message thread on his phone. In a few minutes, one of his server friends, a guy with the display name "The Cloaked Schemer" but going by his Discord handle, Zexion#1309, would be starting a voice call with him. It was kind of a big deal--they had been chatting in their shared server for almost a year, and in private messages for almost as long, but they had yet to actually speak to each other. "I'm actually busy," Demyx said.

"I don't care. Out."

It turned into an argument, of course, neither yielding and probably disturbing their neighbors with the yelling. Yep, Demyx didn’t like his roommate one bit.

He ended up in the lounge by the kitchen, utterly fuming, cursing his idea to “go rando” with a roommate all the while. It’s the best way to make friends, Demyx , his mother had told him. What better friend than a roommate?

Very funny.

At least he’d been able to grab his phone. Of course, Zexion was wondering where the hell he was.

The Cloaked Schemer: Do you need to reschedule?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: roommate’s being a dick and kicked me out. Sorry!

The Cloaked Schemer: Ah, I too am having roommate troubles. I can sympathize. I know too well what it’s like when one’s privacy is denied.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: he’s driving me NUTS!

The Cloaked Schemer: Have you tried talking to him about it?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: He didn’t exactly uh seem receptive to talking

The Cloaked Schemer: It’s always a good idea to try for maturity first.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I did! Not my fault the guy wasn’t having it.

Anyway. Id hate to let that guy take up any more time.

Hru?

The Cloaked Schemer: Doing as well as I can, I suppose. I’m enjoying my classes so far. It seems a little easy, but then again, it is only one of the first weeks. Things should pick up more by midterms.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: ure too smart zexy. And didnt you skip a grade?

The Cloaked Schemer: A year, yes. I don’t think they call them grades in college.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Considering some of the people ive met, couldve fooled me.

The Cloaked Schemer: If I’m hoping to have a grad degree within five years, I have to fast track it. I’d rather not spend much more time in undergrad than necessary.

Though I am especially resentful that, despite the fact that I am technically a sophomore, I’m considered enough of a freshman to still be required to dorm.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: That blows

But dude, ure here. Might as well try to enjoy the journey, yaknow?

The Cloaked Schemer: Oh, Arpeggio. Your naivete is too obvious sometimes. It’s sweet, I think.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: har har

The Cloaked Schemer: I am disappointed though. I was looking forward to meeting you--in a manner of speaking. You’re probably one of the most sane people from our Verum Rex server.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Issa game, bro. Some of them, idk, take it a little too seriously

The Cloaked Schemer: Well, aspects of it are worth being taken seriously, but I understand what you mean.

Though the ship wars are grating.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: ha! Yeah.

The Cloaked Schemer: We’ll have to find some other time, then.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Mann i was hoping to see if you sound as smart as you type

The Cloaked Schemer: You flatter me.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Do you think if we lived near each other we would hang out?

The Cloaked Schemer: If it’s all the same, I’d prefer to keep my location anonymous.

At least for now.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I know. Just a hypothetical question

The Cloaked Schemer: I’d like to say yes.

But for all I know, you’re actually a forty year old serial killer who lives in his mother’s basement.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: harsh

You listen to 2 many true crime podcasts

Anyway, I g2g. See if the roomie will let me back in. Got homework.

The Cloaked Schemer: Enjoy your night, Arpeggio.

Hopefully one of us has a good one.

Demyx closed the app and repocketed his phone. He flopped back on the lounge couch, eyes squinting at the fluorescent lights above and his limbs ragdolling in uncomfortable directions. A good night, huh? It’d be better if he could spend time in his own room without having to engage in guerilla combat whenever he wanted to exist in his own space. Wishful thinking, he thought.

__________

Ienzo stared at the chatlog open on his computer screen. The circle next to Arpeggio’s icon turned a dull gray, and the remaining bits of Ienzo’s hope for decent conversation dulled with it. He had finally caught up enough with his classwork to have some free time to spend, finally arranged to voice chat with Arpeggio, finally gotten Demyx to leave the god-forsaken room so he could have the one conversation he’d been looking forward to for weeks , and now… nothing. All that planning, gone to waste. Another wave of irritation hit him, and suddenly he was out of bed and grabbing his keys. He needed some tea.

Ienzo didn’t get tea at the coffee shop, despite his plans. The alluring, hipster scent of pumpkin spice hit his nose instead, and he caved before he could stop himself.

The college employed students as baristas in the campus coffee shop, as part of the work-study financial aid, so it wasn’t uncommon to see one’s peers at the shop. “Hey, Ienzo,” Riku said. It was getting late; chairs were already on top of all the tables. They’d met in Ienzo’s anthropology class.

“I’m not too late, am I?”

“I can bend the rules for you.” He went back behind the counter. “What’ll it be? Your usual?”

He blushed guiltily. “Pumpkin spice. Please.” Curse that glorious, wonderful scent.

He smirked. “Coming right up.”

“I know it’s dreadfully popular.”

“Yeah, cause it’s good ,” Riku said. “As long as you’re not one of those “half-caff, no whip, vanilla and almond, five shots” type of people.”

“Why complicate coffee so much?”

Riku handed him the paper cup. “At that point, just drink coffee-flavored syrup.” There was a pleasant lull for a moment. Riku began cleaning the espresso machine. “So why are you out so late? Don’t you have an early class tomorrow?”

Ienzo grimaced. “My roommate and I got into a fight.”

“...Again?”

“We are not well suited for each other.” A sigh. “I went to the Residence Life office to try and apply for another room, but the period for that is over. I was told, and I quote, “unless he’s hurting you, tough it out.””

Riku chuckled.

“He is simply-- obnoxious ,” Ienzo continued, the pressing need to vent taking over. “Slobby, loud, and always around at precisely the most inopportune times. I was supposed to have a call with a good friend of mine, and it took some doing just to get him out.”

“Right, your Discord friend.”

“You have a good memory.” Ienzo swished the coffee around a little; it was slightly too hot to drink.

“The one you have a crush on,” Riku said with a grin.

Ienzo flushed painfully. “I do not have feelings for him,” he said.

“Dunno. You managed to bring that call up in almost every conversation we’ve had. If he was really just your friend, would you be that excited? Enough to hype about it for weeks?”

Ienzo shrugged. “I do not know where he’s from, I don’t know his real name, I don’t even know what he looks like. For all I know, he only uses he/him pronouns online.”

“And?”

“I just… see no reason to desire something I cannot have.”

Riku wiped at the counter. “Oh, don’t be so doom and gloom,” he said. “If the call matters so much, it’s going to happen eventually.”

“I know.” He smiled. “Well, thanks for the tea and sympathy. Er, coffee and sympathy.”

“Any time.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You too. Play nice.”

“Just promise to bail me out if things go awry, will you?”

“Ha, on my salary?” Riku winked.

Ienzo left the coffee shop. He didn’t want to return to the dorms yet, but the fall night was calm and quiet. He checked his phone (maybe Arpeggio was free? Though he did say he had homework…).

As a stroke of luck, he had a message waiting for him.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I have a room again! \o/

the jerk was gone when I got back!

The Cloaked Schemer: How fortunate for you. I assume you’re flying through your homework now?

Mel0d10us N0cturn3: nope! :p

this science paper is kicking my ass!

Im really no good at this sort of thing

The Cloaked Schemer: Do you have any tutors available? Ordinarily I’d love to help but it might be easier and more private to go there instead.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: \o/

We actually do have one of those tutoring centers I think! Thanks for the idea!

Don't want you to waste your special brain-powers on little ol’ me lol

The Cloaked Schemer: I’d hardly call helping you a waste of my “special brain powers.”

It’s not a bad idea to check your local resources though.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: o7

Don’t think I’m gonna make any progress on this paper tonight tho lol

The Cloaked Schemer: Giving up already? I didn’t have you pegged for a quitter.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Awww, come on! Don’t guilt meeee

My poor brain!

It’s mush!

;-; will you not spare some mercy for my poor mushy brain?

The Cloaked Schemer: I suppose just this once, provided you use your resources and go to the tutoring center.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: o7 Yes sir !

First thing in the morning!

My mushy brain thanks you for your mercy and endless kindness!

Ienzo’s cheeks grew warm, but whether it was from the message on the screen or the sip of pumpkin spice coffee currently running down his throat, he neither knew nor was willing to explore.

Despite the late hour, there were plenty of students milling about campus, taking up their little spaces. It had taken him some time to find an empty bench to sit on, but one eventually caught his eye and he claimed it immediately, sitting down with his coffee in one hand and phone in the other.

The sky was inky black, dotted with stars, the sun long gone by now. Nights were starting to grow just a tad chilly, the beginnings of autumn seeping into the atmosphere. It was Ienzo’s favorite season and the aroma of pumpkin spice wafting past his nose was just what he needed to make up for the disappointment of having his voice call with Arpeggio abruptly cancelled.

Well, maybe not entirely. He’d been really looking forward to hearing Arpeggio’s voice for the first time, but this did nicely enough, he supposed. It was better than sitting around stewing in annoyance over his damned roommate anyway.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: so what are you up to right now?

The Cloaked Schemer: It’s a lovely night out. I needed some tea. Got coffee instead.

What is it about pumpkin spice that’s so irresistible?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Never wouldve pictured YOU as a devotee of the PSL.

The Cloaked Schemer: Guilty pleasure.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: theyre so good. I can’t have that many of them cause caffeine makes me SLEEPY

The Cloaked Schemer: Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me at all.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: whats that supposed to mean?

The Cloaked Schemer: Nothing derogatory, I assure you.

Though the idea of you being hopped up on caffeine amuses me.

You seem like one of those people who has energy all the time.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: i wish

The Cloaked Schemer: I should--begrudgingly--head back to my room.

You should try working on that paper.

I mean it about the tutor.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: yeah, yeah. I hear ya

Hopefully your roommates not being a dick anymore

The Cloaked Schemer: Fat chance. M3l0d10us N0cturn3: enjoy your coffee~~

__________

Demyx sat for a long time looking at that exchange. He could’ve heard Zexion say those words. He was just so painfully smart, but Demyx could listen to him say anything. About anything. For hours.

He showered and got ready for bed, hoping that Ienzo would stay gone. But as it was, he was back. Ienzo scowled in greeting.

“Nice to see you too,” Demyx muttered. He noticed the coffee cup Ienzo had set down. Ienzo seemed to live on caffeine and spite.

“I needed to clear my head, as I do not have the luxury of privacy.”

“Well I gotta sleep somewhere,” Demyx said. He crawled into bed. Ienzo rolled his eyes. Demyx saw him grab his own shower caddy and head out to the communal bathroom. He thought he smelled--he blinked. Slowly, ever so slowly, he got up, crossed over to the cup, and sniffed it.

Of course he likes pumpkin spice lattes, Demyx thought bitterly. Ugh.

He went back to bed and fell asleep listening to music.

__________

The universe thought it was just so funny. Demyx had taken Zexion’s advice and the tutor he’d met with was his jerk of a roommate. At least Ienzo was unhappy too, if the scowl on his insufferably nerdy face was anything to go by.

“What are you doing here?” Demyx blurted before he could stop himself.

“I work here,” his jerk of a roommate answered in response, “as a tutor, for my work study. I take it your procrastinating finally caught up to you and you need some last-minute help?” Did he really have to be so damn condescending though?

Demyx hiked his backpack strap a bit higher on his shoulder and rapped his fingers on the tutoring center's reception desk. Ienzo could glare daggers at him all he wanted from his seat at the computer behind the desk, but the curious eyes of the other tutors and students around meant that he would have to maintain decorum. They both would, lest Ienzo lose his job and Demyx lose his tutoring privileges. He took a deep breath. "I need help with a biology paper."

Ienzo's expression tightened. "Would you like to make an appointment?"

"No? You said it yourself: this is last-minute." Demyx tapped on the desk. "I need to talk to the science tutor on duty, please."

"It seems like we're both out of luck tonight, then," Ienzo replied dryly, absently clicking at something on the computer monitor. "I'm the science tutor on duty at the moment."

"You? Gross."

"I'm not particularly happy about it right now, either."

Demyx considered his options, and cringed at his conclusions. His paper was due in two days, and it was only half-drafted. Without a passing grade on the assignment, he would set himself up to fail the class. Petty squabbles were not worth the hit to his GPA. He sighed. "Well, can you help? I'm kind of desperate, here."

Ienzo returned the sigh. "Fine. Follow me."

Demyx followed Ienzo around the reception desk to a square table in the far corner, a plastic chair on each side. Ienzo alighted onto the seat closest to the wall. "This better not be a waste of time."

Demyx pulled his laptop out of his backpack before sitting down across from Ienzo. "Has anyone ever told you that you have excellent people skills? Because if they did, they lied to you."

Ienzo rolled his eyes. Yep , Demyx thought, amazing people skills. They were off to a great start. Getting through this paper was going to be agony. "I'm paid to tutor, not practice social niceties."

The laptop screen lit up as Demyx swiped one finger over the trackpad. A screenshot from one of his more memorable raids in Verum Rex guarded the rest of his files behind his login password. Demyx typed his password as quickly as he could, shooing the image of his and Zexion's avatars away before Ienzo could ask any unwanted questions. Evidently, he did not type fast enough.

“Verum Rex? You're familiar with it?”

Demyx nearly jumped, shoulders tensing. He knew Ienzo was there; that shouldn’t have startled him as badly as it had.

“Duh? It's only the best MMO on the market right now. Not that you would know, since you're so committed to the whole 'smug asshole' thing,” He snarked on reflex, feeling slightly guilty about it afterwards. Ienzo was being friendly for once, or was at least making something of an attempt at it. Yikes. Demyx wasn't usually one to make low blows like that. He opened the Biology folder on his computer and selected the draft of his paper, making an effort to get along with Ienzo while they were forced to sit together. "Please help me with this? If you would be so kind, please?" Demyx made praying-hands in Ienzo's direction in apology.

Eyebrow rising - was it just one, or both? - Ienzo shot him a look, obviously unamused in the slightest. “If you’re trying to be cute, it’s not going to work.”

Demyx pouted and opened up his biology paper, turning the laptop toward Ienzo. “Fine, fine, just help me?”

Rolling his eyes yet again, Ienzo was just about to lean in to read what Demyx had so far, when the familiar sound of a Discord ping had Demyx scrambling to turn the laptop back toward himself. Shit. He’d forgotten to close his Discord window before showing up at the tutoring center.

While Demyx closed the Discord app, Ienzo watched him carefully, contemplative. “You use Discord?”

Turning the laptop back, Demyx gave him a look, half in disbelief because surely Ienzo was too much of a nerd, but not in the cool way, to know what Discord was, and yet he did. Shit, it would be really awkward to end up in a server together. “Yeah, who doesn’t use Discord these days? I mean, especially if you play games or are into, I dunno, any fan community stuff.”

For a moment, Ienzo said nothing, slowly turning to look at Demyx’s biology paper on the screen. “Alright, let’s see what we have to work with so far, if anything.”

Demyx sighed. Asshole.

__________

Was this some kind of joke? Ienzo was being pranked, wasn’t he? Any moment now Demyx would start laughing about wasting his time and walk out, like the lazy slacker he was. Halfway through, he half collapsed on the table.

“This is impossible,” Demyx whined. “You don’t really understand this stuff, do you? You’ve gotta be lying.”

Ienzo felt his eye twitch. “Not all of us are lazy fools who give up after 15 minutes. Why are you even here?”

“Because my friend said I should, and I trust his advice. He never leads me wrong, so even if I have to spend time with you , I’m gonna do this.”

"Your friend sounds like he has the sense that you very much lack," Ienzo deadpanned, scrolling through Demyx's paper. He took stock of the misformatted section headings, missing in-text citations, and the off-center data table in the middle of the mess. The topic of the paper did not appear in any of Demyx's written work. "Can you tell me what this assignment is supposed to be? I can't tell from what you've given me."

"It's…" Demyx shrank back in his seat. "I don't know what it's supposed to be. My professor gave us all a table of data-results-things and told us to organize and analyze them. I don't know what he wants, exactly."

Ienzo huffed, and almost slammed Demyx's computer closed on the spot. Thankfully, his better faculties kept him from breaking Demyx's laptop. "There's your problem. You can't complete an assignment if you don't know what the assignment is . Email your professor for clarification and request an extension. If you do it early enough, they might grant you leniency."

"Really? That's your advice? Beg my way out of it?"

"Not begging. Requesting. It shows forethought, self-awareness, and emotional maturity, even if you don't actually possess any of those things. The adage of faking proficiency to gain proficiency has some truth to it." Ienzo pushed the laptop over to Demyx. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

Demyx's arms crossed, and his expression took on the quality of a betrayed toddler. "You didn't even help me with what I came in for, asshole."

Ienzo waved away Demyx's indignation with a dismissive hand. "There's only so much I, or any tutor, can do without having a good idea of what your professor expects. Emailing is the best advice I can give right now."

"So if I email my professor, you’ll help me?”

“I give you my word.” A promise made in haste, if only to appease the barest responsibilities of his job. Hopefully Demyx wouldn’t make him live to regret it.

Not long after Demyx was gone, Ienzo checked his Discord app, surreptitiously on his phone behind the reception desk, to find a message from Arpeggio.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Zexy, this worst thing ever just happened!

My roommate is my tutor!

Save meeeeeee

The Cloaked Schemer: That is peculiar. Though colleges are small worlds, so I hear.

What did he have to say re: the paper?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Ugh he couldn’t even help

Because I had licherally no idea what the professor wants

I mean, the dude has an F on ratemyprofessor so

He said to email and beg for clarity and an extension

The Cloaked Schemer: ...That is sound advice, actually.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Youre taking his side???

The Cloaked Schemer: Not exactly.

But in academic situations, it always looks good on you to take the initiative and seek help when you need it.

I guarantee the professor will work with you, and perhaps be able to refine that same assignment in the future.

If he’s worth his salt, he’s seeking to improve himself the way you are.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I GUESS

You wanna do a raid tonite?

The Cloaked Schemer: Alas, I, too, am a college student with coursework.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: RUDE

Ienzo leaned back in his chair in the campus library. How coincidental, he thought. He’d just given Demyx the same advice. Then again, college papers--especially in the sciences--were not always diverse on the gen ed level. He recalled Demyx’s paper; he should’ve asked him to see the email, or post, or handout with the assignment on it. Chances are the moron had merely misunderstood.

Demyx liked Verum Rex. Perhaps they could have this to talk about. Ienzo wondered who he mained. Probably Yozora, he thought with a sneer.

The Cloaked Schemer: Actually, I can do one raid.

ONE. Brief. Raid.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Thats more like it! \o/

One raid turned into two, then Ienzo ended up staying in the library, at the tutoring center, until it closed.

__________

Demyx begrudgingly took Ienzo’s advice. After his marathon raid session with Zexion, he sent a brief email--agonizing over the wording--to his professor, who responded almost instantly with an apology. Several students had already asked him about the assignment, it turned out, so he was going to extend the entire class’s deadline. But if Demyx needed a few days after that, he could have it.

“You were right,” Demyx murmured out loud, as he read the email the next morning.

“Of course I was,” Ienzo said, not looking up from his desk. “See? All it takes is a little maturity.”

The irony. Demyx grimaced. He looked over at him. “So you’ll help me?”

“When--and only when--I am on duty,” he said. “I have a life outside of work, you know.”

Demyx wondered how true that was. Ienzo spent a lot of the time in the room if he were not in class or in the library. Did he have friends? Did he go to societies? He nearly asked. Then he looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time in weeks. He had bags under his eyes, and was washed out, books spread in a circle around him. “Outside of studying, too?”

Ienzo opened his mouth, then shut it. “I am not here to socialize. I am here for a degree.”

“But don’t you… have any friends?”

“Of course I do,” Ienzo said, just a little too quickly.

Like he would honestly tell Demyx. “Sure,” he said, shutting his laptop and tucking it into his bag. “Well. I got class. I’ll see you at the center later?”

“Much to my chagrin,” Ienzo responded evenly.

Demyx’s day was ordinary other than that. After the professor clarified what he wanted in class (and, to Demyx’s immense relief, it was much less daunting than what he’d thought), he stopped by the library to check out some books which might point him in a vague direction. Ienzo could tell him if they were any good. He stopped by the coffee shop to grab a croissant and a coffee, and, on impulse, got one for Ienzo as well. The idea of it made him nervous. Maybe I’ll say they made an extra by mistake, he thought. He already knew Ienzo drank them.

There Ienzo was, sitting in the office. “It’s you,” he said in an unreadable tone.

“It’s me.” He cleared his throat. “Um…” He thrust out the coffee without saying anything else.

“Is this for me?”

“Uh, yeah.” He felt his face heat--though why?

Ienzo took it, looking confused, and sniffed the small hole in the lid. “Oh,” he said softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked--”

“No. I do. That was kind of you.” He blinked, his expression odd, slackened; Demyx realized it was without malice. “Let’s get to work, shall we? I don’t want this to take any longer than it has to.”

Ienzo helped him structure the paper, and reviewed proper citations with him. It would take a little work, but seeing it outlined, Demyx felt a lot less overwhelmed. Something he thought was a mammoth project would maybe take an hour or two to write.

“Once you have it written, come back and I can help you with grammar and syntax,” Ienzo said.

“Awesome.” He took a deep breath. “I feel… a lot better now.”

“One typically does when one stops procrastinating,” Ienzo said. He leaned back in his seat. For a second--but just one--he sounded like Zexion, all firm and proper, genteel without being rigid.

__________

"You got your grade back already?"

Demyx beamed as he held his laptop screen-out, his browser logged into the university's online grading system. One score was listed under BIO 101, labelled "Paper 1." The percentage displayed next to the assignment name was higher than Ienzo expected from Demyx. "I didn't completely fail!" he practically cheered.

"So you didn't," Ienzo agreed, nodding slightly at the number from his desk. "It's amazing what a bit of work will do."

Demyx dropped himself onto his bed and turned his laptop. He bounced on the mattress a few times while he looked at the number. "This is the best news I've gotten all semester and it's the best feeling. Is this what it's like to be a genius and get good grades all the time?"

Ienzo returned his attention to his own laptop, where a half-drafted essay mocked him with its blinking text cursor and nonsensical thesis statement. He clacked another line of bullshit into the document. It was for English class, he reminded himself. Any answer was correct if it could be argued well. "No, not really. You get used to it."

"I… I should thank you," Demyx said, after a beat of silence. "For your help. I wouldn't have had anything to turn in at all if you hadn't told me to email my professor."

Another line of bullshit trailed across the screen. Ienzo squinted at it, unsure of what he had typed. "Don't mention it. It's my job."

"But still. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Ienzo could hear Demyx shuffling on his bed. "So… you play Verum Rex?"

"Fairly regularly, yes."

"Do you do raids or multiplayer at all?"

Ienzo shot Demyx a warning glance. "I already have a raiding group. I'm not looking for another one."

Across the room, Demyx had tucked himself into bed, his Star Wars sheets pulled all the way up to his chin. He blinked at Ienzo unceremoniously. "Jeez, forget I asked. No need to be snippy about it."

Demyx's head disappeared under the covers, and Ienzo returned his attention to his essay. At least, he tried. The Discord notifications in the corner of his screen kept distracting him.

Eventually, Ienzo admitted defeat and opened Discord. All of the messages were from Arpeggio.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: hey, do we have an opening on our raiding party?

Zexion?

Oh nvm he said no

What are you up to?

I'm taking a victory nap after getting a good grade on that paper I had to

write a while back

My roommate is typing something and he's so loud

What is he writing that makes him so angy

The Cloaked Schemer: I am also typing angrily at something

It is a universal collegiate experience

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: still so angy tho

Are you angy atm?

The Cloaked Schemer: I am… frustrated

I'm meant to be dissecting the themes in a short story but I feel like I'm only spewing garbage on the page

Perhaps if I present the garbage with enough conviction, I will be able to maneuver through this class

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: if youre writing it, it's definitely not garbage :P

you need to have more confidence in yourself, Zexy

The Cloaked Schemer: Ha. I think my roommate would disagree

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: well then he's a bum

Tell him that

Arpeggio says so

Ienzo looked back at Demyx, cocooned in spaceship bed sheets and doing who-knows-what under the cover of bed linens. He thought he saw the flash of a phone screen through the fabric, but the light disappeared as quickly as he caught it.

The Cloaked Schemer: I'll pass. He seems busy.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Busy doing what? Bum things?

The Cloaked Schemer: I certainly hope not. We're in the same room right now.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: oh. Awkward

The Cloaked Schemer: I’ll say.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: so you know ive been thinking

The Cloaked Schemer: Have you? What a concept.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: ha ha.

Its been a while since we tried voice chatting

Maybe we could try again?

The Cloaked Schemer: You would want that?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I want to hear your voice. To see if youre actually as smart as you write

Maybe youve got, like, a transatlantic accent, or something. Thatd be cool

Ienzo blinked, staring hard at the screen. His heart beat a little faster. It was so hard to determine tone through text.

The Cloaked Schemer: Maybe I’m not as cool as I seem.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: highly, HIGHLY doubt it

Youve kept me sane

I really appreciate our

Ienzo saw him type “thing” and then frenetically edit to “friendship.” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

The Cloaked Schemer: The feeling is mutual.

A long, long pause. Ienzo did not know what else to say. His face was burning.

The Cloaked Schemer: Normally I’d rather be caught dead than admit this.

But it does get somewhat lonely here.

It’s nice to have someone to talk to.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: I know what u mean

Sometimes i feel like i dont really know who i am

And like college is supposed to be about finding that

But its hard.

The Cloaked Schemer: You don’t have to tell me twice.

Part of why it’s so easy to exist in online spaces, in games. Appearance doesn’t matter. It’s like being a more concentrated version of oneself.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Do u feel like a more concentrated version of yourself?

The Cloaked Schemer: When I talk to you.

Ienzo’s heart was pounding. He thought he heard Demyx sigh across the room. Was he typing too hard?

Arpeggio started and stopped typing several times, just making Ienzo more nervous. What is he going to say? Did I push it too hard? Was I too forward?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Me too, Zexion

I wish we knew each other. Like, irl

Getting to do raids in person

That would be so fun

And i dunno, maybe do other things

Go out to eat. Go to the movies. Maybe go dancing.

Do u like clubs?

The Cloaked Schemer: I’ve never been.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: it takes some getting used to

But the energy of a crowd is electric

Especially with people you know

Oh god oh god oh god , Ienzo thought. His hands were trembling.

The Cloaked Schemer: Where would we go to eat?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: anywhere you want

Well. on a college students budget anyway

-laughs in poor

The Cloaked Schemer: Ah, so, five star cuisine, then.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Just dont order the lobster

In all seriousness. We need to vc sometime

The Cloaked Schemer: Yes.

There’s going to be a raid event on Saturday. Perhaps then?

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Depends on if i have the room :/

Wanna say yes so bad

The Cloaked Schemer: I know the feeling.

I suppose if I get desperate enough I can rent out a study cubicle in the library.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Awww you’d do that for little ol’ me?

The Cloaked Schemer: Yes, I

His finger slipped, hitting the enter key a moment too soon before he could even finish the thought in his head. His hands felt almost clammy, the inner mechanizations of his mind working on overdrive, as if trying to race against the pitter-patter beat of his heart. Shit. Perhaps… Riku was right after all? Had Ienzo, usually so level-headed, actually developed a crush on Arpeggio? It was utterly nonsensical, and yet he couldn’t deny that he felt a comfort with Arpeggio that he didn’t feel with anyone else he knew, online or offline. Was it possible to fall- ...to develop a smattering of feelings for someone based on typed text alone?

Well, wasn’t that a theme in literature? Two people falling in love over written letters? For all Ienzo knew, there could very well have been instances of it happening in real life, in the days of old, long, long before the age of technology and the internet. A pair of penpals, miles and miles of distance between them, communicating through the written word; it could happen, couldn’t it?

Hold on. When the hell did he turn into a sap ? Frowning, Ienzo ran a hand over his face, feeling like a lovestruck fool.

No. No, this couldn’t be a crush. Just because it was so easy to talk to him, just because they’d been talking for a year or so by now, it didn’t mean-

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Zexy?

You ok?

Shit, how long had he zoned out for?

The Cloaked Schemer: Sorry. Got distracted.

But regardless, I think we should aim for Saturday.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Great!

Hoping we don’t get interrupted by our dick roomies

The Cloaked Schemer: Quite. It’s a date, then.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Yes :3

Ienzo took a deep breath. Regardless as to whether or not this was practical, it seemed that Arpeggio reciprocated his flirting.

Wait. Ienzo looked at the screen, cheeks heating up as he realized he’d typed the word ‘date,’ and Arpeggio said ‘yes .’ He couldn’t deny the little flutter of his stomach in that moment.

__________

Demyx set his phone aside, his heart beating heavily in his chest, his face bright red. He swallowed. There was no way sleep would come easily now, and it probably wouldn’t be until Saturday.

He thought about the nature of crushes. He’d never seen Zexy’s face, or heard his voice, but he was so adept at weaving words in the way Demyx wanted to be with music. He tried to imagine him, what he might be like.

He rolled onto his back. Ienzo’s frenetic, noisy typing had stopped. Demyx sat up, rubbed his eyes, and pretended he’d been napping the whole time. “You good?”

Ienzo shut his computer quickly, like he’d been doing something questionable. “Yes. Fine.” He was a little out of breath. What the hell had he been writing?

Demyx blinked. “I’m gonna go get a coffee,” he said instead. “Want me to bring you one back?”

“Sure,” Ienzo said, his face flushed.

Demyx shook his head. Well. If Ienzo needed to take care of that he had at least a few minutes now. “Cool.”

The whole time he was at the coffee shop, he kept thinking about Zexion, all their little conversations. It was evolving, and evolving fast. Demyx knew from brief experimentation with dating apps that just because a person sent you some flirty words didn’t mean anything would come of it. For all he knew, Zexion lived in New Zealand, or something.

That didn’t stop him from wanting it.

He drew a deep breath, exhaled. Well. Saturday he would find out.

Demyx wasn’t going to let Ienzo ruin his chances of meeting Zexion. He decided to strike preemptively, pausing at the door of their dorm room and sucking in a breath, steeling himself. He could do this. He could ask his roommate for the room for one night, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Hey, so, I have a thing Saturday,” he said vaguely. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t coming off as strongly as he intended, but he could still try. “Mind if I hang here alone for a few hours?”

Ienzo glanced up. The flush was gone, and he seemed much more composed. “Yes, that’s fine. I was going to go study anyway.”

“Study? Don’t you ever have any fun?”

“Perhaps I find studying fun,” Ienzo said.

“Suit yourself.” As he passed on his way back to the bed, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Ienzo had Discord open.

__________

Friday night, Demyx barely slept. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. Crushes didn’t usually… hit him this hard. It’s dumb. It’s so dumb. His loneliness was getting to him. Even Saturday morning, there were some hours until the events started. He looked at his DM history with Zexion. They’d spoken briefly, only to confirm a time and place for their characters to meet and chat. He sat at his desk, his hands trembling, as the game booted up.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: You ready?

The Cloaked Schemer: Of course.

M3l0d10us N0cturn3: Cool.

My mic isnt like great

But you can still hear me

He was shaking. He was shaking. “Get it together,” he muttered to himself.

The Cloaked Schemer: You’re a broke college student. I’m not expecting a professional setup here.

Though I will say my booth is pleasantly soundproofed.

Let me connect.

And Demyx thought his heart might stop. I’m so gay, he thought. A second later he heard that familiar call connection. He twitched a little, and his mic clattered loudly on the floor. Shit!

“Arpeggio? Are you alright?”

“I just dropped the--”

A long, long pause.

He knew that voice.

“Zexion?” He picked up the mic and set it down.

“Arpeggio?”

“I dropped the mic.” Demyx swallowed.

“You…” Zexion fumbled for words. “Speak a little more, please.”

“Is that really you?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re in a library right now.”

“And you had an event… Saturday.”

“Ohh my god,” Demyx mumbled. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, just that he was feeling a lot of it. “Ienzo. You’re Zexion?”

“It’s an anagram,” he said, his tone numb.

“Seriously, this whole time--”

“Evidently.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but at the same time, there was something warm in his chest.

Wait, no. No. This was Ienzo, and they hated each other--

Demyx realized he was panicking. He also, vaguely, in the back of his mind, realized the call had disconnected.

Demyx spent the next few minutes desperately trying to control his breathing, trying to not focus on how Zexion- No, Ienzo- was so disgusted it was him that he’d immediately dropped the call.

Of course. Of fucking course. The universe hated him. The universe had it out for him, surely. Why else would this have happened? He finally meets this sweet, smart, wonderful guy who takes him seriously and actually likes talking to him, on a regular basis , and then… And then… It turns out to be the very same roommate who hates him. That would just be his damned luck, wouldn’t it?

Grabbing his pillow, Demyx face-planted into it, pressing it furiously against his eyes to stop them from burning, to stop the tears that threatened to spill. Of all the people it could’ve been. Why Ienzo ?

Demyx had been nervous enough as it was, afraid the person on the other end would think him annoying - his voice, his tone, the way he just couldn’t fucking shut up sometimes when he got excited about something. Alternatively, the filter between his brain and his mouth was immensely weaker than the filter between his brain and his fingers, and he could’ve said the wrong thing, unable to stop himself in the same way his hand can catch itself on the enter key before hitting it, or quickly delete the message before Zexion could read it.

But this was so much worse, because Ienzo already knew him, already had an impression of him, and that impression was far from good. It’s no wonder he disconnected the call so suddenly. He likely couldn’t stand hearing the truth any longer, stomach churning with disgust, head filled to bursting with regret, and not just regret over the voice call, but everything .

An almost entire year’s worth of conversations, soiled now, because Demyx was, well, Demyx . A slob. A slacker. An idiot. He wasn’t worth Ienzo’s time, and now he knew he wasn’t worth Zexion’s.

A sharp ache spread over his chest, cold and numbing, all of him tense with it. He… liked Zexion. He very genuinely liked him, so excited to get to talk to him, his bristling nerves aside. All week he’d thought about it, daydreaming, wondering what the person on the other end would sound like, if he’d love that voice as much as he loved the text on his Discord screen.

It no longer mattered, not when it was now clear that Zexion - no, Ienzo , was utterly disgusted with him.

It was over. It was all over - their friendship, a year’s worth of personal conversations, these budding feelings he was beginning to have, or that he’s been having for a while now…

On the flipside, was Demyx disappointed that it turned out to be Ienzo? He… didn’t know the answer to that, still reeling in the fact that Zexion, his dear friend and crush, hated him. The pillow was starting to suffocate him and he instinctively pulled it away from his face, eyes still burning. He sucked in some deep breaths and just when he was finally on the cusp of calming down, his door swung open so fast Demyx feared it’d break off the hinges.

Ienzo leveled him with a determined stare. “You.”

__________

Ienzo sat.

And sat.

And stared, and sat some more.

He was dizzy. Slowly, so slowly, all the pieces clicked together. The coffee. The references to Verum Rex. How they were always just missing each other. The whole tutoring scenario. Good god . So this person he’d been harboring feelings for this whole time was--

He pressed a hand to his forehead. And yet, a small part of him… was relieved?

It could be…

No, it couldn’t be anything! They hated each other! They’d complained to each other about each other more times than Ienzo could count. They had--

Ienzo felt the walls of the study booth begin to close in around him, pushing the breathable air out of the room. His ribcage constricted around his lungs, and his heartbeat pounded at his temples. He gathered his laptop and microphone in his arms and burst out of the room, chest heaving.

He braced himself against the outer wall of the study booth and willed himself to breathe normally, his head tilted all the way back to rest on the door. This was real life, and he was fine. He would be fine, anyway, with a bit of finessing. Okay, perhaps a little more than a bit.

Ienzo retrieved his backpack and stowed his equipment inside as he analyzed the situation. Arpeggio and Demyx were the same person. A strange revelation, but not world-ending. He could find another raiding party. He could join another server. There was more than one person with whom to play Verum Rex.

But--

Ienzo caught himself zipping and unzipping the top pocket of his backpack, more forcefully than necessary each time. A new server didn't sound appealing. A new raiding party, even less so. He would have to chat with new people, learn their idiosyncrasies and fighting styles, learn their pseudonyms and remember how they differed from their usernames. It all sounded so… hard, and boring, and unnecessary.

He zipped his backpack closed for the last time and held it at his side by its tiny top handle. Its back straps kicked at his calves as he raced out of the study area, through the main lobby, and into the courtyard. His mind was set. His choice was clear. The only thing to do was follow through.

Ienzo made a beeline back to the room. He found Demyx sitting cross-legged on his own bed, his computer accessorized with a small budget microphone and his face awash with something that looked like guilt. His eyes widened when Ienzo crossed the threshold.

"You." Ienzo's statement rang out like a gong.

Demyx swallowed. "Yeah?"

"We need to talk." Ienzo shut the door behind himself. It slammed closed, though Ienzo had not intended for that.

"...yeah." Demyx turned back to his computer, fiddling at the USB port where his microphone connected to the rest of the machine. "Ienzo, I--"

"Shut up." Ienzo stalked into the room, single-minded. He stopped at the edge of Demyx's bed. "Shut up and listen, for once."

Demyx's shoulders rose to his ears. He stayed quiet.

Ienzo dropped his backpack to the floor. Though his fingers trembled, his resolve held firm. The moment of reckoning was upon him. "Did you know?"

Demyx shook his head.

"Did you want to know?"

He responded in a whisper, pained and hushed. "I wanted to meet Zexion."

Ienzo's hands trembled faster. He balled them into fists to compensate. "And now that you know," he said, "do you regret it? Wanting to know? Learning the truth?"

A tear trailed down Demyx's downcast cheek. "No."

Something deep inside Ienzo wanted to reach out and wipe away the tears that followed, while Demyx's breath caught in gasps over his laptop keyboard. Ienzo steeled himself. "I… don't regret it, either."

"You don't?" Demyx looked up and met Ienzo's gaze with caution. Aside from the red tinge at their edges, his eyes looked almost hopeful.

Ienzo softened, relaxed his fists. "I don't want to find a new server, or a new raiding party."

Sniffling, Demyx nodded. "I don't, either."

"I don't want to stop talking to Arpeggio," Ienzo continued, his heart playing timpanis in his chest. "He is a close friend of mine."

"He's also your lazy roommate." Another tear escaped, this time going down the side of Demyx's nose. Demyx wiped at it with the heel of his hand. "Ienzo, I--"

"We've had differences. We've also had commonalities, albeit in virtual space. There's no reason we cannot bring the two together."

"Ienzo--"

"There's no reason we should be at each other's throats. We--"

"Ienzo!"

He blinked. The drum performance in his chest missed a beat, then started from the top at full speed. "Yes?"

Demyx unplugged the microphone from his computer, sighed, and tossed it to the far edge of his bed. "I don't think that will work."

Ienzo frowned and crossed his arms. He was beginning to remember why he and Demyx didn't get along in meatspace. "Why, pray tell, is that?" he asked.

Demyx swallowed again, more conspicuously than before. "It's just… I…"

Ienzo leaned forward, his head cocked to the side. "You what?"

"I, um, I…"

"Go on. I don't have all night."

Demyx pushed his computer aside and drew his knees into his chest. "I… shit. I had a thing for Zexion." His shoulders hitched with sardonic laughter. "Shit. Fuck. This sucks." He reached behind himself for his pillow and buried his face in it. "This is so embarrassing," he whined, his voice muffled.

Ienzo's budding anger deflated. "You… you did?"

Demyx nodded into his pillow. "Uh-huh. And now you know, too."

Ienzo opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't make the words in his head form coherent phrases. His throat sputtered with half-formed consonants instead. Words. For fuck’s sake, wasn’t he good at words? Why was this suddenly so damn hard?

"This is the worst," Demyx groaned. "Just kill me now. Make it look like an accident. Tell my family I loved them. Don't let my sister take my bedroom at home."

Ienzo's faculties returned in the bumbling, clumsy way that drunkards stumbled home from dank local pubs. "I... don't think that will be necessary," Ienzo managed, through his own confusion.

"No?" Demyx put his pillow back in its place, and faced Ienzo with dried saline clumping in his eyelashes. "What, are you gonna torture me instead? Make me regret being born? Because you're a little late on that front, buddy, I already do."

Ienzo took a deep breath. His crossed arms dropped to his side, then held each other at the elbows. "I may have developed… similar feelings. For Arpeggio." Ienzo's mouth went dry. The drum performance upgraded itself to a full marching band drumline, twenty-five snare drums pounding paradiddles and rolls in synchronized sweeps.

A silence consumed the space between them, interrupted only by Demyx's sniffling and Ienzo's heartbeat. It stretched into the abyss and the stratosphere in equal measure, and stung more acutely than the idea of never speaking to Arpeggio again.

Demyx broke the silence by clearing his throat. "So…"

Ienzo coughed. "So..."

"Are we…" Demyx unfolded his legs and swung them over the side of his bed. His hands grasped at his mattress, and his head hung from his shoulders "Are we, y'know… do we still, like…"

"Do you want to be?" Ienzo shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Friends, cohorts, party members, server mutuals? Or…"

"Or what?"

"Or…" Ienzo trailed off. Or what, indeed? Friends with benefits? Significant others? Boyfriends? The mere thought made Ienzo's palms sweat. "Or…"

In the moment between Ienzo's efforts to name his emotions and act on them, Demyx had sprung up from the bed and slipped his hands around the sides of Ienzo's face, his thumbs resting just below the apples of Ienzo's cheeks. His breath tickled at Ienzo's nose and lips. "Or… this?"

Heat seared at every inch of Ienzo's face. If he could feel Demyx's breath, Demyx could feel his as well. "...I suppose, yes."

"In that case," Demyx murmured, somehow purring and wavering at the same time, "tell me no." He rested his forehead on Ienzo's. "Tell me no, and we won't. I promise. Things can go back to normal."

A whimper, wholly undignified and unbidden, escaped from Ienzo's higher register. "I can't," he whispered.

Demyx leaned forward, and Ienzo followed. At some point, they met in the middle, and the world's axis shifted two degrees to the left. It was a tentative press of lips, but Demyx’s hands on his face kept him anchored. It didn’t feel like Ienzo thought it would, and self-consciousness invaded. Suddenly Ienzo felt very young and immature; vulnerable .

But… after a moment or so, not so much. Demyx was so warm against him, and Ienzo realized it was a learning curve, one he was picking up with his usual speed. He was shaking a little in disbelief. It was so-- nice.

Demyx pulled away and brushed his fingers across his cheek. "You're trembling."

"Forgive me. I--" He swallowed.

"No, it's cool." Demyx pulled away and smiled, brighter than Ienzo had ever seen someone smile before. "Do you… want to go again?"

Ienzo did, very much so. "I'm not opposed, per se, but I think we should… explore our relationship a bit. Perhaps starting with our mutual interest in pumpkin spice flavors."

“Sounds like a plan to me, Zexy,” Demyx grinned.

__________

Riku set the pair of pumpkin spice lattes down on the little square table in the back corner of the coffeeshop, glancing at Ienzo, then Demyx, then back at Ienzo, one eyebrow shooting up into his hair. “Is the world ending? Did I miss a memo on the corkboard in the back room?”

Ienzo coughed. He was vaguely aware of the heat rising in his cheeks. Damn it all to hell. Of course Riku was here, why would it have been anyone else? Sighing, he gestured to Demyx, bracing himself for the inevitable bit of humiliation, courtesy of the one friend who knew about his very apparent crush on his Discord friend. “Riku, meet Arpeggio.”

Riku’s other eyebrow shot up into his hair. “You’re shitting me.”

Demyx looked across the table at Zexion, clearly trying to fight the incoming of a shit-eating grin. “You talked about me to people?”

"Only the unimportant ones," Ienzo said, picking up his cup and sipping loudly.

“Psh,” Riku spat with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, and every damn minute of the day. If I had a dollar for every time you made heart eyes at the ceiling while talking about him, I could quit this job and pay off my tuition.”

Ienzo balked at that, nearly choking on his latte. “It was not that often.”

Waving a hand, Riku corrected himself, looking pointedly at Demyx. “Wait, no, he’s right. I’m forgetting that half the time, he’d be complaining about his horrible room-”

“Shouldn’t you be behind the counter?” Ienzo hissed, glaring at Riku. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Demyx’s gaze flicking between him, like he was watching a game of ping-pong. “Or should I text Sora and Kairi about all those little hearts you like to draw around their names on the garbage receipts every time they come in?”

"Go ahead. I'm ninety percent sure they're both into me, anyway."

Ienzo pulled his phone from his pocket and brandished it at Riku. "Are you willing to test that theory?"

"Make sure you write it down," Demyx chirped, blowing into the hole in his drink's lid. "If you write it down, it's science. I learned that in Biology this semester."

"I'll do more than that," Ienzo said, tapping on his phone screen with both hands. After his phone played a short 'whoosh' sound, he placed it face-down on the table. "Images sent. Now we wait for our results."

Riku scoffed, then balked, then turned beet-red. "You're an asshole," he hissed through his teeth.

"Relax. I was just kidding,” Ienzo said with a glint in his eye that Demyx barely caught.

"Forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical." Riku scowled for a moment, but eventually softened into a smirk. "Whatever. Enjoy your Discord date, Casanova." He knocked on the table once before returning to the checkout counter.

"Discord date?" Demyx asked, taking a swig of his pumpkin spice latte. "I thought we were hanging out in real life."

"Let's not split hairs. We're about to see a show." Ienzo jutted his chin in the direction of the cafe's front door. As if on cue, Sora and Kairi burst through it like a duo on a mission.

“Oh Riiiiiiiiku!” they chorused in sing-song at the top of their lungs.

"Sometimes," Ienzo said, turning back to Demyx, "I like to watch the world burn."

“Yeah, I know. That’s actually kind of hot,” Demyx admitted, taking another sip of his latte. "Remind me not to piss you off again, though."

#Zemyx #Demyx #Ienzo #Zexion #Kingdom Hearts #fanfiction #Zemyx Day #Zemyx Day 2020

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hwangdol · 5 years

Text

n.jm: where were you?

summary: y/n does not know what the fuck is going on half of the time.

pairing: highschool!fboi!jaemin x fem!reader

warning: a lot of cursing, drug usage reference, crackheadness, maybe a lot of grammer error. this is my first bullet-scenario au so yeah. also! this a collab with the lovely @huangsren in out nct dreamies alternate universe teehee. she has a lovely, fluffy renjun one up so go read it!

part two!

you okay let’s get this collab with @huangsren

so at NCT High if you don't know Na Jaemin who the hell are you? like everyone knows this kid from lunch ladies to the freaking janitors

its not a surprise since the dude is literally dead drop gorgeous and has a shit ton of social skills. like the boy deadass can swindle his way out of detention (which he did) with just a wink

typical fboi but instead of it being a huge turn-off, girls still throw themselves on him even when he WARNS them beforehand that he isn't looking for a serious thing

still, they get attached and heartbroken when he tells them “this isn’t working out”

his friends (aka art-hoe!renjun and student-athlete!jeno) always rolls their eyes when jaemin rolls up into the lunchroom with his arms wrapped around a new girl’s shoulder

“bet she’s not going to last two weeks”- renjun slapping down a 10$

“knowing him, this isn’t going to last more than a week”- jeno said but still sliding over a 10$ bill

AND SUPRISE it doesn’t

both renjun and jeno don’t approve of his philandering, but they stick w jaemin cause he’s still their best bud cause bros before hoes ya know what i mean?

this is especially true with jeno cause they’ve been bffl since they were like five but that doesn’t mean that jaemin is anything like jeno.

nah man they both are the complete opposite of each other

like jeno is a quiet reserved student-athlete boi but jaemin out here acting like a little thotty

nomin is like a package deal, no one can separate them

here where out little y/n comes in

surprisingly you’re childhood friends w nomin

both u and jeno are neighbors and your families have been friends since before you were even conceived

your moms’ have weekly tea times where they’d gossip about everything and anything while your dads would be watching the weekly soccer/football games drinking a cold one

you and jeno would be playing with some legos or barbies

jeno had a minor (major) barbie obsession which was probably induced by you

don’t tell anyone but jeno still binge-watches barbie movies;;;his favorite really be the princess charm school one

like i said nomin is a package deal so expect jaemin to be taging along to yours and jeno’s weekly playdate

imagine you being the princess while jaemin pretended to be the prince and jeno was the dragon,,,yeah man it was so lit

this isn’t a jeno fic btw keep in mind its still jaemin

all of that stuff before was when the three of you were like kids

once highschool came around all three of you found ur niches: jeno was the student-athlete, jaemin was well that guy that was wanted by all the girls

and you were just a regular mundane student ya know,,,you weren’t extremely talented nor smart you just floated around

u still hung around jeno tho but your friendship was really lowkey

like both of y'all would wait until the other one was completely alone or do some ridiculous actions to deliver the simplest messages

jeno would look both ways before slipping you a note in class that said “can your mom drive me home today?” and you would make sure no one was looking before nodding secretly

or the two of you would hide behind bushes to say that y'all parents wanted to have dinner together tonight

tbh yall could just text each other but where’s the fUN in that?

jaemin, on the other hand, was someone you haven’t a solid conversation with since sophomore year bc of an incident

basically, you had helped one of your friends into a relationship with jaemin that lasted for about two months,,, which was considerably a long time considering that it was jaemin.the two of them were a fat power couple

ur friend, let’s call her ella, was probably one of the more popular girls at school. she was well-known for being the prettiest, kindest girl that everyone LOVES

anyways, things didn’t end so well bc he stood her up at hoco even though he was gonna be crowned homecoming king and her queen.

no one knows why jaemin just ditched but he did.

didn’t stick well with your friend tho cause she stopped talking to you as well not really giving you an explanation

and this led to everyone in your friend group to kinda put all the blame onto you

this is also when jaemin picked up his heartbreaker reputation and began living up to that title

at first ur were hella mad and sad, but you got over it cause being outcasted and kicked out of that friend group led you to befriend the local stoner boi!haechan

honestly, you got over it but after ignoring and avoiding jaemin for a whole year it just stuck.

yall never talked again

here comes SENIOR YEARS BITS

u were so done w school at this point, you had suffered and labored through junior year,,, SAT and ACT were the biggest bitches you ever faced in your lifetime and this is coming from someone who was friends with the resident shithead lee haechan

so it’s lunchtime and you’re listening to haechan’s wild story about some shenanigan that he and his weed dealer/ older college friend mark had gotten up to the past weekend

“so like we were just hitting a blunt this weekend in mark’s car and this cop pulls up next to us.mark rolls down the window and all of the smoke just hits the cops in the face”

“you're a fucking idiot, haechan”

“listen bitch, i’m not done”

“so the cop is doing the regular illegal drugs bullshit and asked mark a question. understand at this point that mark is high as fuck so i kid you not the crackhead says quack. nothing else just quack. honestly, i still don’t know how we got out of that but we did and lee haechan is still in school.”

you want to slap your friend with a big smh at this point

but it so ridiculous and so haechan that you can’t say anything else

and you don’t have too! bc someone taps ur shoulder pulling you out of your convo and boom it’s ella

“hey, y/n” she starts out sweetly and you could feel haechan’s bitch face directed towards the girl, who seemed to just ignore the boy

“what’s up, ella?” you were hella fucking slightly irritated and highkey suspicious bc like this was the first time that she talked to you in like two years

“this out of the blue, but you know how prom is coming up soon? we need extra hands on the planning community,” ella explained with a bright smile “we need another person to work on making the centerpieces for each table, but we only have one person on that”

“okay, so what does this have to do with her?” haechan’s bitchy tone soaked in each word

ella’s smile faltered slightly at his words, but it was so subtle that only people with keen eyes could notice

“i hope that i’m not imposing anything on to you.” ella trying to reassure “but Mr. Moon told me that you still need some community service hours for our graduation requirement so I just assumed that this would be a good opportunity for you.”

oh shit

you completely forgot about that and you still needed like another 10 hours to complete

“ummmm”

“i wouldn’t ask you this but my workload is completely swamped” ella added “it would be a big help if you can help. haechan, you can help too!”

haechan let out a loud gag that seemed to baffle her

“oh hell no, i already got my community service hours done like freshmen year.”

you gave haechan the most incredulous face you could make cause like this druggie who gets high every other week and vapes in the bathroom really finished his community service hours before you????how??

“don’t look at me like that.” haechan kicked you underneath the table “it was before i learned how to roll a blunt”

“drugs aren’t good for you, haechan,” ella chided

haechan made a mocking face,,you know the one he does like that one,,”not all of us can be little miss goodie-two-shoes like you”

oKAy time to do some damage control before your shithead friend gets himself into more shit

“i’ll do it. just text me the details.”

“thank you so much y/n!” ella said before bouncing off

“i hate her” haechan stated

“you hate everyone”

CUE aFTerschool when you follow ella’s text to go to the art building where everyone was gathered

the minute you walked in you realized that you should have just said no and done some other community service activity cause jaemin was present standing in the corner and other people who you once called your close friends that turned out to be fat snakes

now you gotta deal with them again (aww shit here we go again)

ella is motioning you to come into the classroom which you obliged cause you figured that you possibly could survive w ur rbf on as you made your way to the other unoccupied corner

there was some whispering in the background but you ignored it cUASE like hyuk always says: “you just gotta get high and block out all the haters”

well, he was right about the second half, not so much the first.

“alright everyone! thank you so much for volunteering to help set up for our senior prom! we only have about three weeks so we have to get all of the decorations done as soon as possible!” ella said in a chirpy tone

a lot of people looked motived by the girl’s bubby short speech on how everyone needs to put in 100% of their effort. you zoned that out as you caught the sleeping figure at the teacher's desk

“goddamn you mr.moon forcing me to be here” you grumbled in your head almost missing your assigned duty,

“y/n!” your head snapped in the direction that your name was called

you saw ella standing with jaemin and the sirens go off in your head

FUCK THIS

you let out a loud sigh before trotting over to the two

ella gave you a piece of paper that had the centerpieces’ picture on them along with a long list of decorations “all you guys have to do is make about 300. all the directions are on the sheet and the supplies are in the other room. it’s really simple, just have it done by next friday.”

you nearly popped a blood vessel

300 by next friday? today was wednesday so that meant you only had ten days to finish all 300 of them

so you and jaemin are walking to the classroom next door to get the supplies y’all needed,,, in your head, you were just cursing everything in existence for putting you into this position especially mr. moon

“so how did she rope you into this?” you heard jaemin say from beside you as you both carried boxes out to the parking lot.

you two came to the good conclusion to split the load so that he would do half and you would do half

150 it’s not that bad

15 a day

hell yeah

it was so strange and foreign talking to him since it’s been about two whole years.

he had a nice voice tho ngl maybe that’s why he got out of that detention that one time

“she somehow found out that i still needed to complete my community service hours before graduation” you murmured, praying that haechan remembered you telling him to wait for you after school

he probably ditched you to get high or hang out with one girl he liked

all jaemin said was “oh” and the rest of the walk to the school’s parking lot was quiet

the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife and the knife would break

“hey can i ask you a question?” jaemin asked when the two of you were about to go your separate ways

you could see mark’s old beat-down car meaning that haechan, in fact, did ditch you but had the decency to call up mark to pick you up

“yeah, go ahead”

“how come you still talk to jeno, but not me?”

i shit you not this was the quietest and deepest voice that you ever heard jaemin project

you didn’t know how to reply so you looked down at the large box in your hand, mumbling some incoherent excuse

“can you repeat that?”

“ i said, we don’t really have any other reasons to be friend's unlike me and jeno”

“is that all?” jaemin asked, probably catching onto your bullshit

you were probably delusional but you could’ve sworn you heard some sadness in the tone he used

you nodded quickly trying to get to mark’s car hoping to avoid further conversation

but boy was jaemin stubborn

“that wasn’t a good explanation,y/n! ” jaemin called out after you.

this time he sounded more lighthearted than before

you turn around to face jaemin who had a fatass smile on his face

damn was he good looking smiling like that

“give me a better reason tomorrow or else i’m taking you on a date!” his dazzling smile nearly blinding you as he made his way to his own car

inside your head little y/n is going whattheactualfuck?

“what’s with that shook face?” mark ask as you climbed into the passenger seat

“what the fuck?” you say

“huh?”

you look at mark “what the ACTUAL fuck?”

poor mark is like wtf is wrong with her,,,did haechan get her on some type of crack?

that night while you were making the little centerpieces you were still going over what jaemin said

you looked at the last centerpiece you finish making

was he flirting with me? or was he serious?

he sounded sad when i said that tho?

at the same, this was jaemin, a boy who is well-known for having flings left and right.

he’s probably just flirting

until next day! jaemin pops up next to you as while you get your shit from your locker for your first class

“did you come up with a good explanation yet?

his sudden appearance startled you causing you to subconsciously let out a yelp

“cute” he said, and you forced down the blush that was about to show

“i thought i told you already?” causing jaemin to shake his head like a cute little puppy

“i don’t accept it.i want a better one,” he said sounding like a spoiled toddler

you gave him the “wtf do you mean look” and he was about to reply until you saw haechan walking through the school doors with a pair of sunglasses on which can only mean one thing

that little shit head came to school high again

you pushed passed jaemin and stormed towards haechan pulling him to some vacant hallway to lecture him

leaving jaemin standing there staring at your backs as the two of you left

jaemin’s smile dropping significantly as he nearly glared over at the two of you leaving, specifically at the back of haechan’s head

“dude, why do you look like you’re going to murder someone?” jeno asked as jaemin sat next to him at their lab station

you weren’t in this chemistry class but haechan was,,,and it was his naptime

“how is y/n friends with him?” jaemin stared directly at a sleeping haechan

jeno follows his line of sight, letting out a sigh once he notices it was haehcan

“she never really told me, but i assume it was because she stopped being friends with ella and that group” jeno said honestly. he raised an eyebrow in question at his bffl “why do you need to know”

jaemin didn’t answer him, continuing to glaring at the sleeping male

jeno rolled his eyes at his friend's antics

but in a serious tone, he warns to his friend, “don’t pull your games with y/n.”

except jaemin’s head wasn’t registering this warning,,he was solely focused on how lee fucking haechan the biggest stoner of NCT High managed to take a girl’s attention from him, na jaemin....it was simply ridiculous

maybe he really was an attention seeker bc he made a beeline for your table during lunch instead of his regular one once he saw just how loud you were laughing at haechan’s joke

“what’s so funny?” jaemin asked sliding into the seat next to you

now both of you and our boy hyuk is like wtf

immediately you’re on defense, “what are you doing here?”

“you never gave me a good explanation!” jaemin pouted, giving you fat puppy eyes

those aLMost worked

“uhhhhhh” you try to find a good excuse but jaemin quickly cuts you off

“it’s okay if you don’t have a good explanation,” jaemin reaches over and steals a fry from haechan’s tray eliciting a hissing sound from the boy “you just have to go on a date with me”

then he winks

and he's gone

“what in the holy fuck just happened?”

the amount of time that y/n has said wtf is unbelievable

haechan’s sunglasses slip down the bridge of nose and you could see his red eyes giving you a look of disappointment, “and you say i have issues”

“stfu before i slit your throat”

the rest of the day wasn’t any easier on you tbh. you learned that jaemin was really really stubborn and very very clingy

the boy deadass scanned the whole hallway to find your face so he could tag along with you to your next class even though you could have sworn that his class was one the other side of the school

he kept on bombarding you with questions on what you wanted to get after school and if you like roller skating

by some means, you were able to hide in the library for the rest of the study hall period which meant that you could probably avoid jaemin until school ended

you spotted a familiar boy huddled in the corner reading a book that made you squint your eyes.

marching over to jeno, your eyes just say “explain”

jeno looked at you with like those wide eyes he does when he’s shookth bc the two of you never interacting in school so puBlicly

“what the hell is na jaemin trying to pull?” you whispered-yelled plopping down in the wooden seat next to the athlete

jeno is all like????wydm

and you explain your whole situation to him and he just lets out the biggest sigh

“he doesn’t like being left on read”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, that’s what you basically did to him sophomore year. he was kinda depresso about how you just stopped talking to him out of nowhere. by the way, why did you do that?”

tbh you really didn’t know at first you were mad at him

was it bc his actions caused all your friends to blame you for his inability to commit to a relationship,,, but it’s been two years since that incident

you got over it, so why were you still avoiding jaemin?

“i dunno after him and ella broke up, i didn’t have a reason to talk to him.”

jeno looked at you like “really? is that your answer?”

“think about that question again because i’m sure that that's, not the whole answer.”

now you’re more confused but also very mad about how both of them weren’t accepting your reason as valid!

so as you were furiously making the stupid centerpieces that ella forced you into volunteering to do

angry y/n really got through a solid 50 of them

you pondered on jeno’s words and you thought back to sophomore year

you remembered still joking around lightheartedly w jaemin until he started dating ella

he actually spent a lot of time and effort even ditching jeno sometimes for her which was okay cause jeno would chill w renjun or even you (mostly bc he could watch barbie movies w no shame)

everything was alright until homecoming came around and jaemin flaked on ella leading them to breakup the next day

and ella to stop talking to you which made everyone mad you or think that you were the one that caused the breakup

WHICH YOU DIDN”T

you were the one that hooked the two of them up too! so it was really unfair!

it's like 2 am and you don’t know what came over to text jeno but you did

y/n: why didn’t jaemin go to hoco sophomore year?

you felt instant regret after sending that text bc like it probably made it seem like you were interested in jaemin,,,, which you were totally not!

seconds later jeno slaps you with the ”ask him yourself”

fattest facepalm

so that’s how you spent the entire night finishing all of your centerpieces that you were assigned to make cuz of your frustration

wow we love a productive y/n

alrighty this is where shit goes down

now that you were done with all of your centerpieces you took them to the art room the next day before school where ella was there doing her stoof

she looked up with a giant smile when you came in with a giant box

“you finished all of it?”

“nah just 150. jaemins finishing the other half” you set the box down

“oh okie,” ella nodded returning to whatever she was doing beforehand

since it was just the two of you in the classroom and you’ve been dying to know the answer since sophomore year

so fuck it

“hey ella, can i ask you a question?”

the said girl looked up with that same friendly smile that she gave everyone “of course!”

“why didn’t jaemin show up to hoco sophomore year?” you blurted out

in an instant, ella’s smile dropped and there was a sudden cold look in her eyes

“you already know the answer to that, y/n, you don’t need me to answer you. now if you excuse me, i have things i have to do” ella said in a very unlike-ella-way

her answer made you even more confused than ever bc how were you supposed to know the answer to THAT

confused!y/n is even more confused

however, all your questions were about to be answered, not really tho

you’re on your way to the third period with the same burning question in your head: why the hell did jaemin not show up to sophomore year hoco??? someone help?

tbh you didn’t even notice someone yanking you into the janitor’s closet until you were surrounded in darkness and someone's hands were clasp over your mouth

“it’s me, jaemin” his soft whisper sent tings down your spine

he let go of your mouth to switch on the light

“are you fucking insane?”

“yes, but it’s only cause i’m madly in love with you”

you rolled your eyes “cut the bullshit, jaemin, what do you want?”

“our date. you never gave me a solid explanation, so i want a date”

you were about to reject him but then an idea formed in your head

“fine”

and with that one-word jaemin’s eyes glowed 10x brighter with his smile almost blinding you

cheesy i know.

“let’s go now!”

the boy was really about to skip class just to go on this stupid date w you

is he that bored? did he really run out of girls to date?

but then again you really don’t want to go to math bc you’re pretty sure there's a test today that you haven’t studied for yet

so that’s how you found yourself with jaemin at the local ice cream parlor

jaemin INSISTED that y'all share a sundae, which he also fought you to pay for

there a silence that falls upon you for a little bit

jaemin breaks it though like he breaks heart (okay minnie that’s kinda mean)

“ella told me that you finished your half of the centerpieces in two days. that’s pretty impressive,” he comments

you nodded staring at the ice cream drowned in chocolate syrup

“to be honest, i haven’t gotten much done yet,” he admitted, continuing to ramble on “it’ll get done. i might even pay renjun to do it, but i’m pretty sure he’s too preoccupied with this girl that he’s been pining over for a while”

“speaking of which, are you seeing anyone right now?” jaemin asks out of nowhere.

“lol i could be doing other things with my time.”

jaemin observes your face closely taking in the faint blush on your cheeks from his direct gaze, “so what about that haechan dude?”

“what about him?”

“are the two of you a thing?”

you nearly gagged

“there no way in hell i’d ever get with haechan. besides, he’s having some of his own girl problems right now. he was being a little bitch about it too”

“good” jaemin says really contently.

“why didn’t you go to hoco sophomore year?” you finally asked

taken back slightly, jaemin softly smiles down at the half-eaten sundae

instead of answering you, he asked another question “why did you stop talking to me?”

you gulp, but eventually, you had to tell him the truth even though it was kinda dumb and immature

“because ella was mad at me after the two of you broke up.”

he shifted his gaze up to your own eyes

“do you know why she was mad at you?”

you shook your head

jaemin smiled again

this time it kinda looked sad :(

“because she knew that i was in love with you”

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