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#SORRY FOR THE SUDDEN WALL TEXT
oatbugs · 1 year
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lightning fried our satellite dish and now we are alone
#old geometry on old walls + her hand flowing along the river delta. sudden stop pulls on stitches#you are not allowed to laugh unrestrained for the next two months. in the next world#i look at the shape of the sun and i the tangerine you offered to your brother. do you feel#artificial ? do you feel man-made? what is more natural than man ? what is more natural than the creation of a natural thing?#do you feel like an organic automaton? will you love me if i change? will i love you if you change? if i prophesise about#not loving you it wont change the fact that i wont stop loving you. you are going to draw again because in a few weeks#you have to paint something sacred along the length of my spine. my friend asks me if im okay#and in my head i want to scream at her IM JUST HAPPY YOU'RE ALIVE. im sorry we were both in pain. im sorry you have to think about#endings. i will think about your beginnings. the air here feels like spring and i think of you every day.#my boy texts me on the train station about the snow and how he waited 4 hours in the underground. he said his hands were shaking#and i thought of how much i missed holding his hands. you were freezing on the train i was burning in the sky.#of course your password is phi. just like her. i miss you all. 10 friends teaching each other how to slow dance#in the kitchen. 10 friends cook a feast together and say goodbye. the last thing i told the boy who was once#in love with me was that i wont say goodbye because no one would care to hear it. the last thing he said was fair enough.#im glad you kissed me when i was drunk. i am visiting my town by the sea for the first time in a decade and i hope to#peel it open and bite again. my love، how do i make you feel? pomegranate cracked open. you saw the blood inside#and you dug your hands inwards. messed up through all the red، you still bit in.#i will make you feel safe enough so you can lose your mind again. you can create again#im sorry i didnt realise how much you had missed me. im sorry i didnt realise thats a part of why you stopped creating#i am not sorry that it matters so much. it matters because i love you. ill be back soon. keep cracking me open. ill keep cracking you open.#world of chroma blue and crimson. a girl asks a policeman for direction without a headscarf on. this was an act of war. i reveal my own#hair in the wind and think of how much i love you. i stare at the policeman through the eyes of the slaughtered.#my lovely economist drinks up the ocean and i think of her beautiful hair with its bloody ends in the wind#chase your dreams. dont say goodbye. politics is an act of love. i look at the killer with the eyes of those he killed and i think of#kissing you over the river kissing you in your bed kissing you before you left kissing you until we were late kissing you goodbye#for five consecutive days kissing you in the train station kissing you in the rolling fields kissing you by the cityscape kissing your neck#until it bled. i love you. i will kiss you until you can create again.#i miss my love i miss my starlights and i miss the sky. one day ill make you tomato soup again.#and now it is time to replace a very old very young self.
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lovelettersfromluna · 26 days
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Not Strong Enough
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Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.
an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍
Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!
Read part 1 here!!
Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.
She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.
Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.
She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.
But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.
Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.
Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.
She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.
She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.
Ellieeeeee
Where are you?
Haven’t seen u in the longest :((
Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.
At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.
Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.
Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.
Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.
As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.
It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.
She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.
And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.
But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.
She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.
You always remind her though.
Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.
She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.
If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.
“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.
She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.
Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.
Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.
And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.
Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.
But you knew immediately that this was different.
The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.
So, why did you feel so bad that morning?
You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?
As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.
You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.
And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.
Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.
With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.
To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.
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You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.
Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.
You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.
Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.
You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.
And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.
It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.
You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.
Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.
Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.
All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.
Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.
“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.
“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.
She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.
You however, have other plans.
You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.
Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.
“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.
Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.
Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.
You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.
“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.
But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.
When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.
“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.
Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.
It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.
Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.
She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.
So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.
Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.
“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.
You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.
“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.
Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.
She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.
“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.
And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.
Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.
It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.
Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.
“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.
It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.
“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.
“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.
“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.
She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.
“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.
You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.
“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.
You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?
Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.
She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.
“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.
“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.
“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.
“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.
You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.
“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.
She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.
“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.
And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.
And you have no choice, but to kiss her.
It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.
It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.
Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.
“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.
You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.
“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.
“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.
But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.
And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.
“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.
“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.
Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.
“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.
“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.
Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.
Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.
You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.
You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.
“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.
“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.
Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.
And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.
You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.
It made your head fucking spin.
You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.
“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.
Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.
“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.
“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….
“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.
You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.
Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.
“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.
She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.
“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.
“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.
Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.
Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.
You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.
She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.
“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.
“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.
And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.
You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.
“I love you, pretty girl..”
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toruslvt · 1 month
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regarding bff gojo, (sorry if this is insane) but can i request a bff gojo x fem!reader x random girl where they have a 3sum but gojo eventually just ends up paying attention to reader bcs he’s IN LOVE W HER ??!
⋆ mdni. bff gojo satoru. basically all things that happen in a threesome: Satoru, you and the girl make out w eachother, fingering, creampie ( to reader ). AAA NOT INSANE AT ALL I GOT BUTTERFLIES READING YOUR ASK 🫶.
 ⋆ tried this w a different writing style aaa idk how to feel. anyways... let me know what u think.
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sometimes you wondered what Satoru’s hidden skill was, to make you fall so easily into his schemes. was the puppy eyes he gave you, adding how he wanted to spend more time with his adorable best friend? following the logic that Satoru even texted you from the toilet, separation anxiety perhaps. he was blunt and direct, that’s a fact, but you did not expect for your him to suggest a threesome all of a sudden, sure, you had sex once but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that Satoru was already planning a second time.
the girl sitting in his bed is quite pretty, and oddly similar to you, with the same hair, skin tone and body shape, it was kind of scary at first, but you brushed it off considering it was a mere coincidence. yet Satoru looks utterly excited, almost bouncing off the walls as his eyes trail from you to her, and again until someone speaks.
“come here” he gruffs, your best friend’s voice is already husky and deep with desire, tapping his thighs in a silent invitation for you to join as where his hands caress the other girl’s sides, he’s cupping her breasts but his eyes remain on you, “you’re gorgeous” it’s a whispered word that Satoru speaks with his gaze still locked in yours, swiftly shifting to her eyes as to make her feel as if the compliment was for the both of you, Satoru knows it wasn’t.
and he tries, of course he tries to give you the same eagerness, but you look so fucking sexy perched on his lap, helping him get the other girl’s shirt off and he wishes it was your hands on him instead.
“Satoru” you breathe out his name, —a slight warning for him not to let the girl out after he spent the last minutes making out with you—, and he looks at you like you’re water in a desert, lips red and puffy from the intense kissing. with a brief nod he turns to her, pressing kisses on her chest and up her throat, licking on the skin before hesitantly kissing her lips, from your position on your sides, you could see Satoru’s eyes open, slightly turning sideways to look at you again.
you chuckle softly, finding his behavior slightly adorable, like a puppy looking for approval. carefully you approach him, deciding to press kisses on his neck at the same time Satoru groans and the girl whines, his eyes fluttering close at the intoxicating sensation of your lips, making him messily stain the front of his boxers with precum.
a couple of minutes pass until you’re all naked, Satoru having placed you next to her as you gently kiss, and in any other situation, he could have found the sight incredibly hot, but he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest. why aren’t you kissing him?
“you taste so good” the girl smirks looking at you, and Satoru’s brow twitches, she licks her lips seductively, almost fully ignoring the man’s presence currently kneeling between your bodies.
“you too” you speak with your face burning, and your best friend can’t take it anymore, leaning down to kiss you himself, almost fucking your mouth with his tongue; from behind the messy sound of your lips clashing you hear a whimper, looking from the corner of your eyes how she touched herself at the sight, biting her lip for a fleeting second before Satoru is tilting your jaw roughly, forcing you to focus in him.
Satoru’s hand is quick to find her dripping cunt, plunging a finger that quickly turns into two to keep her busy, moaning as if it’s the best thing that has ever happened to her, all to make you spread your pretty thighs and allow the dripping head of his cock to press against your pussy, if he kept on just kissing you, he would have cum all over your belly.
“so good, baby” he groans, eyes darkened and dilated pupils looking down at you as his cock stretches you out, you could see the way his breath hitched in his throat with each inch engulfed in your warm cunt; it’s a mess of lewd noises, from the girl’s moaning to your whines and Satoru’s grunts as he fucked you both, occasionally she raises up, attempting to caress his naked body towering over yours, but your best friend only slides his fingers deeper and harder inside her pussy, making her whine and lean down on the bed again, giving him enough space to suck on your tongue and swallow your moans that are only meant for him.
you can’t help and feel dizzy at the way Satoru looks and fucks at you, grinding his hips down so perfectly you’re sobbing in pleasure, and, for a moment, you’re left speechless when he forces your knees up his shoulders, fucking you so deep you couldn’t help and cry out, digging your nails on his back. that’s all Satoru needs.
a whimper of protest is heard, you are trying to raise your head but he’s quicker, cleaning his hand off her slick in the sheets before using both thumbs to press down your forehead, keeping you pinned as his body engulfed you fully, forcing you in a mating press with his mouth tasting your screams and your pussy swallowing the whole girth of him down the base, messily creating a sound where his hips roughly smacked against your ass.
you wondered if he always fucked like that, but the stimulation on your clit rubbing on his pelvis, g-spot tortured by the fat tip of his cock and nipples continuously rubbing against his hard chest made you forget about the rest.
“fuck, sweetheart” Satoru lets out a broken moan, half surprised half as if he was in pain at the sight of your almost rolled back eyes, mouth hanging open in desperate cries at the same time your pussy fluttered wildly. “you’ll make me cum so hard, this pussy was made just for me” he groans, not stopping his thrusts even if you gasp and cream his cock, he’s almost drunk, his own eyes threatening to roll back at the flutter of your cunt, begging for his cum.
a few more thrusts and he’s cumming deep into your pussy, with a sharp groan that makes you shudder. “’Toru... where is...?” you attempt to ask, but Satoru couldn’t care less, leaning down to kiss you without replying, but instead humping your pussy slightly, testing the waters if you’re ready for another orgasm.
“dunno” he swallows, uninterested, licking down the path of your throat and jaw until his nibbling on your collarbone, “can I fuck you again?” he begs, and there are the puppy eyes Satoru always gives you when he wants something, and how can you refuse when your best friend is so cute.
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golden-cherry · 3 months
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deal - cl16 (23/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's nothing sweeter than unexpected visitors.
Warnings: 18+ (just be prepared for some words), fluff (like a lot), Pascale is the sweetest thing on this planet, teeny tiny bit of angst
Word Count: 3.2k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: hello everyone! I hope you all are doing okay after the Ferrari-Carlos-Lewis thing, because I'm still in denial. this is mostly fluff, because I couldn't manage you dealing with more bad stuff this week. love you! feedback is appreciated!
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Before you can say anything or even react, the blonde woman lets go of your hands and snatches one of the magazines lying on the coffee table in front of you. She rolls it up with her slender fingers before smacking Charles across the back of the head. 
"Maman!" he exclaims angrily, rubbing his head. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"
The woman holds the magazine under his chin so that the Monegasque has no choice but to look her in the eye and return her stare. "That's no way to talk to your mother." She puts the magazine back in its rightful place before turning to you again. "Try again, chéri."
Your friend has to hold back a grin before he spreads his arms out and hugs his mother. "Good morning, Maman. It's really good to see you."
"It's good to see you too, mon chéri," she replies lovingly, stroking his broad back once with her hand before releasing herself from the tight embrace. She puts her hands to his cheeks to study his face. "I didn't know you were back home."
Charles tilts his head, his mouth forming a thin line. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know," he replies meekly, taking her hands from his cheeks so that he can press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I've had a lot on my mind."
"I can see that." She pulls her hands from his and then turns to face you. When she looks at you, you stiffen. All of a sudden, you feel as if you're naked in Charles' clothes, she's looking at you so piercingly. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly yet. I'm not usually as rude as my son." Charles rolls his eyes as her smile is affectionate and gentle. Then she wraps you in a hug that is careful, but firm nonetheless. It's a good hug. "I am Pascale. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise." After you've also introduced yourself, you return her smile. 
"Now that you two have met," Charles interrupts your conversation. "How do we come to be honored with your company, Maman?"
As if it was her own home, her own four walls, Pascale leaves the hallway and goes into the kitchen, where she grabs a cup and makes herself an espresso at the coffee machine. Like two lost puppies, the two of you follow the beautiful woman. "I was called in tears last night." When the loud buzzing of the machine stops, she takes a sip of her coffee before placing it on the countertop. "Can someone explain that to me?" With her eyes glued to her son like an annoying price sticker on a new plate, you're off the hook. 
"I didn't think she'd call you."
She?
"And I didn't think you'd just kick her out of the apartment without giving her some warning," Pascale replies sharply, raising an eyebrow to show her disapproval of Charles' behavior. "She called me in the middle of the night, upset with you and crying bitterly because you kicked her out of the apartment with a simple text message."
Something flashes in your mind. When you followed Charles back to the bedroom last night, he was typing away on his cell phone. And when you told him that he'd be crazy if you went with him to the apartment where his ex still lives, he assured you that she wouldn't be there. 
You didn't expect him to just throw Annika out of the apartment so that you would have a safe place where Raphael couldn't harm you.
"Maman." Charles raises his hands placatingly. "It wasn't like that."
"So you didn't send her a text message telling her to pack her things and leave within thirty minutes?" When Charles doesn't reply, but simply stares at his mother open-mouthed, she runs her fingers through her hair in bewilderment. "I didn't bring you up like that. Have you completely lost your mind?"
"Maman -"
"No 'Maman'." Judging by the look on her face, she would like to hit him over the head with the magazine again. "Do you know what the consequences could be?"
"Maman -"
"She could go public with it!"
"Maman -"
"And - and damage your reputation! She could -"
"Maman!" Charles almost shouts at his mother to break out of her mental spiral. She looks angrily at her son, who takes a small step towards her. He lowers his hands. "Annika cheated on me."
As if all the air had escaped her body, Pascale plops down on the chair where you were eating pancakes just a few minutes ago. She puts her face in her hands and takes a deep breath before looking at her son again. She tries to blink away the tears in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you, mon chéri?"
Without answering, Charles closes the distance to his mother and holds her tightly in his arms. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and closes his eyes. "It's all right, Maman. Please don't worry, okay?" He squeezes his mother a little tighter as her arms wrap around his middle. "It's all right. I'm all right. I'm in good hands here."
Pascale's gaze flickers to you and a small smile crosses her beautiful face. You recognize Charles in it. "You'll take good care of him, won't you?"
You feel the blood rush to your face. Suddenly it feels wrong to be witnessing this loving conversation between mother and son. "Of course." With everything I have.
"Very well, chéri," Pascale finally says, gently pushing her son away. "Your brother is coming to visit tomorrow. As you haven't seen each other for a while, I'd like you to come to dinner. He would definitely be happy to see you." She looks at you again. "You too, sweetheart."
Before you can respond, Charles looks at you and shakes his head, barely noticing, so you don't turn down her invitation. "All right, maman. We'll be there." He nudges her lightly with his elbow. "As long as there's pasta e pollo."
Pascale rolls her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Charles." She smiles at him anyway. "Your new girlfriend gets to decide. After all, she's the new addition to our family and I want to make a good impression."
"Maman, she's -" Charles tries to explain himself, but his mother merely raises her hand to silence him. When Charles and your eyes meet, you feel warm. And when he pushes his lower lip forward, he looks so cute that you can't help but agree with him. 
"Pasta e pollo sounds great."
Pascale gets up from her chair. "Very good. Then I'll get everything ready for tomorrow." She strides past you towards the front door and you follow her again. "I'll see you tomorrow evening. I'll let you know the exact time, mon chéri." She kisses Charles' right and then left cheek before repeating it with you. "Tomorrow we'll have enough time to talk about all this. And to get to know each other better."
"I can hardly wait," you answer her honestly.
"That's very nice. Then I'll see you tomorrow evening. Bonne journée," she wishes you before disappearing from the apartment just as quickly as she came in. As the door closes behind her, you both exhale deeply.
"I'm so sorry." Charles turns to face you.
You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Sorry for what exactly? Your mother suddenly showing up here?"
He runs his hand through his hair and leans back against the closed door. "That you're now forced to spend the evening with my family. And that I didn't make it clear that we're just friends."
You run your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "It's okay, there's plenty of time for that." Then you smile. "Your mom seems nice. I have no problem spending time with her."
He laughs briefly and then leans his head against the white wood. "It's not my mom that worries me. It's my brothers. They can be really - you know - brothers sometimes."
You walk towards him and lower your arms. "Why? Are they that bad?"
He grabs one of your hands and plays with your fingers. His eyes search yours. "I think it's better if you make up your own mind about them."
"So they're that bad?" you joke, allowing him to pull you closer so that you're standing between his legs. "If they're anything like you, I think I'll get on well with them."
His free hand rests on your hip. Despite the layers of fabric, you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Then you'll hate Arthur." His fingers press gently into your flesh before something behind you catches his attention and he releases you - too quickly for your liking. As you turn around, the piano catches your eye and the roses standing on it. 
"What's the plan for today?" you ask him, trying to draw his attention back to you. You release his hand from your hip, but only to pull him into the kitchen so he doesn't have to look at those stupid roses anymore. "Do you have to do anything? Gym? Or do you have any appointments?"
Charles sits down in his chair and fishes his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. "I don't think so," he answers and takes a look at his online calendar before placing his cell phone on the counter in front of him. "I don't have any appointments or commitments to meet until after Christmas. Until then, I'm all yours." His smile is sweet as sugar and your heart skips a beat.
You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him across the worktop and kiss him until you can't breathe. Touch him until the countertop is used for something other than cooking, but this morning you convinced yourself that this friendship is the right and, above all, the only way this can work. And that you wouldn't do anything to sabotage this friendship.
"How about we use this time wisely then, huh?" You reach for Pascale's coffee cup and rinse it. 
"Do you have an idea?" He raises an eyebrow and has to stifle a smile when he sees your grin. "Of course you have one. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked like that. Fire away."
"So," you start and put the cup back in its place in the cupboard. "We've finally spoken and we've agreed to stay in this apartment together."
"As friends," the Monegasque confirms the thought you just had, even if you don't understand why he has to say it out loud. 
Your eyes dart towards the hallway, knowing that the white piano with the red roses is just a few meters away. "What do you say we go out today and buy some new things for the apartment?" you suggest. "Then I could get things for my room and maybe something else to make it feel a bit more like home."
"You mean to make it feel like it's your apartment too?" Charles leans back in his chair a little and runs his hand through his hair. 
"Only if that's okay with you. After all, it's your apartment and I could understand if you wanted to leave everything as it is at the moment and -" you babble nervously without thinking about what you're saying. You look at him worriedly and try to read his face to see if you might have crossed a line. 
"That's actually a good idea," Charles finally replies, smiling at you. "But are you ready for it?"
"For what?" you ask, confused, leaning against the countertop, which - unfortunately - is only used for cooking.
Charles shrugs his shoulders. "For being seen outside. With me." He looks at you like a kicked puppy that's been abandoned on the street in the middle of the night.
"I told you I have no problem with that," you assure him and walk around the kitchen counter to sit next to him. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers. "We're friends, Charles. We know we're friends. And I don't care what anyone else thinks they know about us." You tilt your head a little to one side. "Our friendship is real - and that's why we're going right out there to buy some new stuff for the apartment."
His smile almost makes your heart stop. "For our apartment," he corrects you, his green eyes twinkling.
"Our apartment," you repeat softly. 
"Okay." He lowers his gaze to your hands, and the way his fingers wrap around yours makes it feel like they're perfect for each other. The two of you spending time together shouldn't make you this happy. "But we'll only go on one condition."
"What's that?" 
"We're not going alone. We're taking Pierre and Kika with us so that it doesn't look like we're shopping for furniture for our apartment as a couple in love." The fact that he doesn't want to go out alone with you feels like a punch in the gut. When he notices the hurt look on your face, he squeezes your fingers gently twice. "It's just to protect you, Y/N."
The fact that he doesn't trust you to do this hits you harder than it should. How many times do you have to tell him you're ready? That the opinions of others don't matter to you as long as you have Charles by your side? Does he really think you're that weak?
"I don't need to be protected," you reply sharply and take your hand away from him. 
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he tries to reassure you, but the fact that he's talking down your feelings doesn't make things any better. 
"Maybe not," you say annoyed and get up from your chair. "But there will come a point when we're on our own. And then everyone's going to be talking shit about us, I get it. And I get that it's going to be bad." You don't care that you're acting like a defiant child. The fact that Charles doesn't want to be seen alone with you hurts more than you would ever admit. "So why not today?"
The young man in front of you looks away from you with a crestfallen expression before also rising from his chair. When he reaches for your hand again, you allow it. "I want you to be able to turn away from me if it gets too much for you. I want you to have the chance to live a normal life if you do decide against me." His other hand rests against your cheek and you snuggle up to him as if it were a reflex. "I don't want you to regret meeting me."
The fact that he thinks you could ever regret befriending him stabs straight through your heart. He wants to protect you from something you both have no control over, and although you'd like to stroll through Monaco holding hands with him, you can understand him.
He is trying to protect both you and himself. And you can understand that all too well. 
"All right," you give in and smile gently at him. "Then ask them if they're free and up for it today. It could be fun."
Charles lets go of you and the warmth that had been flowing through your body immediately disappears. While he talks to Pierre on the phone, you go back to your room to get changed and think about what would look good in your room. 
Different curtains wouldn't go amiss, and some candles and a small mirror would look good on the white chest of drawers opposite the bed. You might also find some new bedding that -
"Y/N?" Charles' voice echoes through the apartment. You find him in the doorway of the master bedroom, where he glances over his shoulder in your direction. "Pierre and Kika are about to head out, then we'll leave together." 
"Okay," you reply, glancing past him into the room. There are a few things lying around that are definitely not his, and the decor doesn't suit him very well either. "So this is your room?" 
"Uh-huh." He wrinkles his mouth a little. 
"What's wrong with it? Apart from the obvious, of course."
He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Everything. I don't see anything in it that I wouldn't change."
You'd be only too happy to set the whole room on fire if it would certainly help him. Just like the roses that have burned themselves into your memory. You nudge him with your elbow. "Then we've got a lot planned for today." You look at each other and when he reaches for your hand, you have to smile. "You don't have to go through this alone, Charles. We can do this as long as we're together."
His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. "Together," he says softly in return, leaning down a little towards you so that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. His warm breath caresses your face as his free hand finds its place on his hip again to pull you against him. You feel his hard body against yours, his heartbeat under your fingertips as you place your hand on his chest. You feel his warmth as his nose bumps against yours, his hip against your stomach as he presses you against him. You feel his -
"Are you ready?" Pierre's voice comes out of nowhere as he and Kika walk through the front door. Thank God the bedroom is further back so they can't see you. 
Instead of letting you go, Charles presses you tighter against him so that you can feel him everywhere. "I think we need a new door lock," he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. "Then no more uninvited guests can come in when we're together." 
When he finally breaks away from you, you have to take a deep breath. Although you've decided that you don't feel anything for him apart from friendship, he triggers something in you that no one before him has ever managed to do. 
You desire him. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you crave him, his touch, his skin on yours. And his words echo in your thoughts, making you dizzy. 
Together. Together. Together. 
You rub your face once and look after Charles, who briefly disappears in the direction of the living room, the opposite direction from your friends.
What you can't see, however, is him shoving his hand into his pants to control his raging boner, which is pressing almost painfully against the seams of his boxers. How is he supposed to put up with that when you live together?
Together. Together. Together.
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gyuscoquetteribbon · 26 days
Text
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^᪲᪲᪲ what the world has to offer
SYNOPSIS: you were supposed to be home about thirty minutes ago. mingyu doesn't know why you aren't home yet and all his calls are left unanswered and his texts, delivered, but not read.
PAIRING: mingyu x gn!reader
GENRE: fluff, established relationship
WORD COUNT: 1.1k
notes: this is pretty self indulgent y'all also also omg first written piece that i've posted for the world to see in 4 years???? also im not very satisfied with how i ended this so my bad y'all but hopefully i get to write more in the coming weeks !!
hpr btw
'i'm close by, i'll be there in five mins !!!'
going by your last text, you should've been home about thirty minutes ago. needless to say, mingyu was beyond worried, pacing back and forth in your shared kitchen while he also he kept an eye on the boiling pasta.
'y/n.'
delivered.
'y/n why aren't you answering my calls???'
delivered, yet again.
delivered, but not read.
mingyu's anxiety, which had picked up upon the ten minute mark, only increased as all his texts were left unopened and unanswered.
the pasta had finally come to a boil. as mingyu turns the stove off, a soft tune fills the otherwise empty house.
his phone was ringing.
mingyu goes to pick his phone up, his speed only picking up when he sees your name illuminating on the phone screen. he attends your call, ready to chide you as he adjusts his phone so that you could see his (rather upset) face.
"y/n, why the fuck won't you—"
"i don't think i'm coming home tonight," you cut him off.
mingyu raises an eyebrow. he knew exactly why you were late the moment he saw you sat, leaning against a wall that looked much like the wall of the entrance to your apartment complex.
you angle your phone towards your lap, and there it was. the reason why you weren't home yet.
laying down cozily on your lap was a sleeping cat, pearly white fur with specks of dust and brown spots. if mingyu was right the stray was probably—
"i think he was abandoned," you pull him away from his thoughts, gently swiping your fingers over the cats ear that was cut at the tip, indicating it was spayed either by a rescue team or its previous owner. your free hand goes to cradle its head as it tips back.
a soft smile falls on mingyu's slightly chapped lips, his eyes gazing at his screen with so much love. he leans closer to the camera. "you don't even look at me with this much love," mingyu jokes, causing you to chuckle softly, "i'll bring him something to eat yeah?"
you nod and allow mingyu to cut the call. a shiver runs down your spine while you wait for your boyfriend to come down to join you. it was a particularly chilly evening. as you wait for mingyu, you watch the cat as its body rises and falls in a gentle rhythm. you had placed your woolen scarf over the cat earlier, when it had fallen asleep, afraid that it might be too cold for him. you sit there, wondering how confused the cat must have felt upon being thrown into the streets to fend for itself after being sheltered for so long. you felt sorry. the world is too cruel, you think to yourself.
"hi," mingyu's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you lift your head to look up at your grinning boyfriend, the scarf wrapped around his neck doesn't hide his sharp canines shining under the dim light of the lamppost.
"hi," you whisper back as mingyu squats down across you. with all the sudden commotion, the cat stirs awake, sleep eyes blinking up at the new figure before him. "he's awake," you note, eyeing the cat cautiously, praying that the presence of another person doesn't scare him.
the cat sits up immediately, the scarf draped over his body, slipping onto the ground. its eyes land on the small tin of cat food which mingyu had bought along. good thing mingyu had bought a bunch of those since you have a habit of feeding strays in your area whenever you come across one.
you loved cats. mingyu knew that much. going out on walks with you almost always meant that you'd both would have to stop somewhere in the side of a road because you came across a stray cat. sometimes, you'd stop mid conversation if you see one, rushing towards it, muttering a soft "look! cat!" mingyu doesn't mind, though.
in fact, it was this quality of yours that made him fall so deeply in love with you. despite the pain the world had given you, love was all you ever gave back. that too with a big grin on your face. when you'd run towards a stray cat mid-conversation, you'd miss the fond smile that'd fall on mingyu's lips. when he'd go shop for groceries, you'd miss the absent-minded smile that'd paint his lips when he'd inevitably walk down the aisle containing pet food. when he'd see you sat beside your potted plant, talking for hours about anything and nothing at all while a slow song plays in the background, you'd miss the way he'd look at you, with hearts in his eyes.
they can hear you. it helps them grow better, you had told him.
once again, you had missed the way he was smiling at you. "or so it seems." a puff of air briefly forms in front of mingyu's mouth as a chuckle escapes his lips. the cat jumps out of your lap and approaches the can of food cautiously, almost as if it'd disappear if he'd look away. gently, mingyu pushes it closer towards the cat, assuring that the food is, in fact, for him.
you sit on your knees, your freezing hands falling on your lap as the cat takes his first few bites, his entire face fitting into the can. when he lifts his head, his overgrown whiskers are coated with minced meat. you and mingyu coo softly as the cat looks up at the two of you with his minced meat clad fur and whiskers.
you laugh, your eyes crinkling at the sides. you sounded so beautiful. music that mingyu wishes was only reserved for his ears; for him to listen to and cherish. but alas, the world knows your name.
"you've taken quite a liking towards him," mingyu points out.
you look at your boyfriend, "i wish we could take him home." an unsaid plea.
mingyu laughs softly, reaching forward to gently pat your head, "i'm free tomorrow. i'll pick you up from work and we both can take him to get vaccinated, alright?" he smiles, mirroring your own beaming smile, "i'm sure bopeul would like a friend or two when we go visit my family when i get a break."
"and, i'm sure dollop would love bopeul too," you say.
mingyu raises a brow, "is that what we're naming him?"
"yes."
"dollop it is then," he smiles, reaching down to gently boop its snout.
you miss the way mingyu smiles at you when you aren't looking. but, you never miss the way he loves you. all the little ways he's shown his love. you've never once had to ask for something. he'd know.
maybe this was what the world had to offer for all the love you've given it.
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monzamash · 6 months
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needed me — lando norris
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"sorry for the cuddling. i'm usually not this clingy." lando norris x you rating – mature; mostly fluff with a sprinkle of innuendo masterlist
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The weekend had been rough. From beginning to end, it was a scrap for Lando – nothing going his way, no silver lining to salvage. Waste of fucking time, he growled once his helmet came off and was shoved into his trainer’s arms, barely even glancing your way. Disappearing into hospitality, never resurfacing until he was ready to leave the track. Alone.
Darkness blanketed the Bahrain skies, black clouds ominously looming above and painfully complimenting Lando’s race. It was poetic in a way and you found comfort in the dimly lit gloom, curling up in your hotel bed with a book and glass of wine. You needed it to distract you from the phone taunting you on the bedside table. No new notifications, no texts, no calls – radio silence from the one person you couldn’t stop thinking about.
The click of your hotel door opening made your heart skip, the shadow of the man you had become all too familiar with slinking up your walls until he appeared in the door way – all hoodie clad and cosy. You closed your book and sat up against the mountain of pillows, a soft smiling lining your lips as Lando shyly shuffled across the carpet beneath his sneakers.
“Am I gonna have to revoke your key card privileges?” You asked, watching him kick off his shoes and jumper while you flipped open your duvet, summoning him under the warm covers.
Lando shook his head, curls falling into his eyes as he sighed deeply and crawled in beside you, “Please don’t. I’ll never recover.”
You hummed in amusement, hanging your arm out over the pillows and pulling him into your side. He was warm to the touch always, nuzzling into your neck as soon as he was close enough – annoyingly clingy in the best way. He was your friend first, maybe more now but you never spoke about it.
Having him this close was all you needed, it was what you craved on those lonely nights and you assumed by the way he always came to your room after a long day that the feeling was mutual.
“I needed to see you… couldn’t sleep,” He whispered into the air, eyes focused on the intricately detailed ceiling above.
“Neither could I so you made the right call."
Your tone was light, almost airy and Lando was broken from his distant gaze and brought right back to you – a grin teasing his lips. The sudden realisation that you wanted him here hitting him like a tonne of bricks.
“Sleeping in your bed is always the right call.”
The blush that roared across your face was disguised by the darkness you laid in, fingers mindlessly brushing through his dense curls that tickled your cheeks. Lando’s fingertips drew shapes on the forearm that kept him tucked into your side – his mind finally slowing down enough to enjoy the silence. Comfortable, effortless silence that made him feel like he was home.
“You comfy?” You asked, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his nodding head.
Lando closed his eyes and burrowed deeper into your embrace, “Sorry for the cuddling – I’m usually not this clingy,” He whispered in return, causing your eyebrows to rise and a quiet scoff to slip from your lips.
You could see the devilish smirk plastered across his sweet face when you looked down, rolling your eyes and giving his curls a playful tug, eliciting a moan.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
Your question wasn’t prying and Lando knew that – and maybe tomorrow in the harsh light of day he would have to but right now, with your soft, inviting lips taunting every ounce of self-control he had left, he shook his head. Subtle but you caught it, along with the glimmer in his eyes that told you he couldn’t bear to relive any of it this soon.
“Do you wanna kiss about it instead?” You asked, blinking a couple of times before Lando was lifting his head from your shoulder and meeting you in the middle.
“Yes please,” He mumbled before capturing your lips, hands grasping your face to bring you closer – desperation and adoration in every single searing kiss he pressed to your skin.
“This is what I fucking needed.”
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xlatiwritesx · 2 months
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Serious, serious | CL16
A/N: an F1 imagine 🏎️ !!! Yes, yes, I’m into F1 finally, so I of course had to write something and who else would it be than THE Charles Leclerc. Ngl, this isn’t my best work but I just had to get this idea out of my system 😵‍💫. Hope you guys enjoy it !!
Words: 1.6K
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: after your first serious scare being an F1 girlfriend, you’re rewarded with a new found emotion.
Time is a funny thing. Humorous, at times. It goes fast or slow as it pleases. Chooses its pace to get on your weakest nerve.
For instance, the past three months flew by. Meeting him, texting for the first time, your first date, your first kiss, attending his first race, getting to know his friends.
It felt as fast as blinking an eye. Or as fast as you were falling for him.
"A Ferrari car is off the track!" The commentator's voice boomed through the TV speakers. You jumped to your feet from the leather couch you were sat on.
"Oh no" the commentator said soon after. Soon after Charles' car crashed into the concrete wall alongside the track.
Your heart fell, your breath quickening at a dangerous rate. You shut your eyes, reminding yourself of what Charles always said to you.
"Crashes happen. All the time. These cars, though, they're meant to protect us. So, crashes aren’t as dangerous as they seem in F1"
"He's okay" you whispered to yourself. However, when you opened your eyes, everyone's face didn't confirm that, though.
"Right?" You asked, looking around the Ferrari unit. Everyone was frozen, eyes glued on the screen that showed smoke coming out of the crashed Ferrari car.
Charles' car.
Your legs moved before you even decided. You ran so fast. Faster than any car still racing out there even though the world seemed to crumble and break into pieces.
You gasped for air, the wind making it colder than usual. You reached a half empty Ferrari station. All those screens deserted. You barely held yourself up. You wondered how bad was it that half the team had to go to the scene.
"Crashes are normal in Formula One. Almost inevitable"
Not when it's the guy that you were realizing meant much more to you than you thought. The thought terrified you. So much terrified you all of a sudden.
"How do I get there?" You didn't realize how panicked you were until you heard yourself speak. The man stared at you in confusion.
"How do I get to the crash?" You urged. You couldn't believe you were saying that.
"Ma'am, you can't just go-“
"No, no! I have to!" You could feel your eyes well with tears.
"It's Charles Leclerc! Hurry!" A group of paramedics ran to their veichle. You ran after them.
"Ma'am this is not allowed-"
"Please!" You begged them.
"I'm sorry, this is for authorized-"
"Y/n!" You turned around, desperate to believe what you were hearing.
"Carlos! Carlos, please tell me he's okay" you ran to the only person that you felt would care enough to tend to your worries.
"They're taking him to the hospital" he sighed, bowing his head, his fingertips barely holding his helmet.
"W-why?" You stuttered. He finally looked at you.
"Let's just go"
You silently followed Carlos to his car after he quickly changed out of his suit. The drive to the hospital drove you insane. So many questions. Wondering about so much, too much at once.
As soon as Carlos parked outside the emergencies, you ran out of the car and through the glass doors, not caring about all the chaos going just outside of them.
"How serious is it?!"
"Do you think Leclerc will be able to go back to racing?!"
"Will he be there for the next race?!"
It was a lot. Too much, even. You wanted to scream them away. Tell them that this wasn't the time to ask all those questions with bright cameras and microphones everywhere. To respect the other patients' and their families' privacy. But you care more about Charles right now. So you kept running until your hands hit the edge of the counter.
"Charles Leclerc just came in" you breathed. The nurse widened her eyes at your state and just pointed to where he was.
You got to his bed in no time, him just lying there, unconscious. You immediately held his hand and the waterworks began. Carlos walked into the curtain closed space and stood in front of the bed, leaning on the edge.
"Hey" he called so quietly. You just kept crying.
"I don't recommend dating a Formula One driver if you'll cry this hard every time he crashes" he said casually. You stopped sobbing and looked up and to your left. You glared. Carlos shrugged.
"Just saying" he said, looking away.
"Carlos!" You whined. He looked at you, but you just went back to looking at Charles.
You noticed some bruises already forming on his hands. You held it tighter. You felt like time was not moving. It just dragged on and on. Carlos stood there. You sat there. Charles laid there. Just like that. For eternity.
"You didn't eat anything. What do you want?" Carlos' voice reminded you of his existence. You slowly turned to look at him, your tears barely dried on your face.
"How can you be so…chill?" You asked. Not in annoyance. Just out of pure curiosity. Carlos frowned at you for a second, before breaking into a fit of laughter. You stared at him blankly, your hand still holding Charles' tightly.
"I'm telling you! This sport is not for the faint of heart!" He waved a warning finger at you and you frowned at him. This time in annoyance.
"We just" he sighed when he stopped laughing, only a smile left behind from it.
"We get used to this. To seeing it. To being victims of it" he said ever so casually that it terrified you. It was terrifying the things passion makes a person do. How far people would go for what they love.
"I'm getting food and you will eat it. Charles would kill me if he woke up to a starving you while I was just hanging here. Deal?" He raised a brow at you. You hesitated, but Carlos kept his gaze. You finally nodded.
"Good. I'll be back in a bit" he said before leaving. You watched him go and something warm filled you. Gratitude.
You were grateful for him staying with you. With Charles. Not all drivers care enough to do that, unfortunately. You didn't notice the smile on your face until a few minutes later. When Charles spoke.
"What's so funny?" He mumbled. Your eyes shot to his and you stood up in an instant.
"Charles?!" You exclaimed, tears filling your eyes for the millionth time today. He just blinked, wincing.
“Who won the race?” He asked, still trying to find his voice.
"Oh my god" you covered your face, walking away from his bed in disbelief.
“Seriously?!” You spun around, crying. You wanted to fight even harder when a smile slowly took form on his tired face.
“Charles do you know how terrified I was?! And all you’re worried about is who won that race?!” You kept scolding. He placed one arm behind his head, still watching you in amusement. You breathed heavily, not bothering to wipe your tears as you crossed your arms over your chest.
You watched him laying there, smiling with his arm under his head, giving him better view of your tear-stained face.
“You know what?” He spoke. You had to walk a step closer so you could hear him clearly.
“I don’t want to know who won the race. I want to know how on earth did I get this lucky” he started.
“Yeah! I’m so glad it just cane down to some bruises. And, and, you’re awake, and you’re talking, and you seem okay!” You rambled, now sitting by his side on the edge of the bed. He chuckled softly at you missing what he meant, raising a hand to wipe your tears, then tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Right when I realized what was happening, there was one thought that kept echoing in my mind” he whispered, suddenly all serious. Your heartbeat quickened, not enjoying the memory of watching him crash and not knowing what he was feeling or if he was going to be okay.
“I just kept thinking ‘fuck. I didn’t get to tell her I love her’” he confessed. You raised your brows slightly, surprised at the sudden confession. You’ve been together for three months now and neither of you had said it, yet.
But there it was. And it felt like the world that crumbled after the race was patched and stitched back to perfect, pristine condition.
You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. Charles smiled as well, his heart monitor exposing how important this moment was to him.
You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck carefully, holding him tightly to make up for all the fear of losing him. For all the fear of him not feeling the same way.
“I love you, too, Charles” you whispered.
You held each other for as long as it took for your flushed cheeks and racing hearts to quiet down, giving your new found feelings some sense of privacy.
Once you pulled away, your faces met, less than an inch apart. Charles leaned in. You were grateful there was no heart monitor on you, or that would’ve been the end.
“So, I didn’t know which is your favorite, so I got all flavors-“
Carlos’ voice sent you flying to your feet. Charles sat where he was and pierced his lips shut, staring at nothing in particular.
Carlos’ eyes danced between the two of you and he broke into a grin when he realized.
“I think it finally happened?” Carlos asked, hinting at what you both just confessed to one another. You glanced at Charles just to catch him glancing at you. He cleared his throat and you held back a smile.
“So now it’s serious, serious?” Carlos asked excitedly.
“Serious, serious” you both answered.
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luveline · 3 months
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Hiiii sugarplum. I would absolutely adore some stripper reader x Hotch maybe like some of him comforting her or just coming to visit like outside of the case and some fluff 🥰🥰
ty for requesting!! fem
You’re texting on the wall outside of work when a shadow cuts across the streetlight illuminating your lap. Your head flinches up, phone to your chest, but the man standing in front of you isn’t one you’ve ever been scared of. “Fuck, Aaron, you scared me,” you say with a nervous laugh. 
He smiles at you in his gentle, unassuming way. “Sorry. I took care to scuff my shoes as I walked.”
“Oh, you took care,” you say. Your smile is far less gentle than his; your cheeks apple, your words coloured with it. “I was in my own world.” 
“I thought we talked about you coming outside alone.”
“Did we?” you ask, the short wall you’re sitting on biting into your hands and thighs as you tip back to grin at him teasingly. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, I can’t seem to remember any such talk.” 
“Mm.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t remember that?” 
“Don’t recall, no.”
“So you also won’t remember the conversation we had about flowers.” 
Your first date, your only date, and your first bouquet. He’d given you flowers and read the embarrassment on your face immediately. You aren’t the kind of girl who gets flowers. 
What’s wrong? he’d asked. 
You’d held the flowers to your chest, something in you worried he’d take them away, though you’re almost positive he’s incapable of being cruel like that. Do I look stupid? 
Of course you don’t. 
There hadn’t been much else to say about the flowers, until after the evening had gone well, and he’d asked you for another date. High with the delight of knowing Spencer’s nice, handsome boss doesn’t just think you’re pretty, he likes you, you’d said Sure, if you bring me another lovely bouquet, we can go on as many dates as you like. 
Aaron pulls the bouquet from behind his back. Petals bounce off of his tie, pinks and whites and baby blues against his black blazer and pristine white shirt as he taps his chest. They’re beautiful, and far too many. 
“Are they really for me?” you ask. You’ve never seen such a big bouquet in your life. It’s a wonder they fit behind his back. 
The strangest thing about dating him has been his sudden propensity for moments of shyness. “That depends,” he says, the slightest hint of nerves in his otherwise dulcet tone, “are they nice enough?” 
“They’re the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” You stand up and hold out your hands, pull them back to your chest, and then hold them back out again. You can’t not want them. 
He hands them off to you. 
It must be weird for him to meet you like this. He’s very high up the ladder of his career, and it doesn’t make much sense for him to fall for you. You’re younger, less educated, less prestigiously employed. You hadn’t understood what it was about you that pulled him in, but you can remember how clearly he told you he was interested in you. No shame. Not a hint of reluctance. He’s bringing you flowers outside of the stripclub, ignoring the fact that you’re in sweatpants and a tight corset-type bra, and he hasn’t looked at your body once. 
“I was just texting you,” you say, opening your phone to press send on the text waiting in the hot bar. 
Aaron’s phone immediately pings. 
He reads it quickly. It isn’t a long message. Hi, handsome. Want to pick me up tonight? 
If he’d said yes or no didn’t matter, because you’d just wanted to talk to him, and here he is. 
He finally ducks in. A half side step into your reach, his face angled down, he kisses you chastely on the lips and everything fades away. The neon pink at your feet, the buzzing streetlights and the passing cars, the steady thump of music from three different buildings, it all disappears under his warm hand. He kisses you, and he hugs you to his chest, careful not to crush your flowers. You could glow from the inside out. 
He’s still smiling as he pulls away. “Are you hungry?” he asks softly. 
“So hungry.” 
“We can get anything you want.” 
“Really? What if I want the same as last time?” 
It had been expensive and you’d felt vaguely underdressed. Aaron doesn’t baulk. “Anything you want… You may need to wear my jacket, though. I don’t think your current outfit adheres to their dress code.” 
You push the flowers just under his nose. “Funny.”
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Text
your lipstick stain is a work of art
Masterlist
Giving Epel, Leona and Ace a DIY Maison Margiela Kiss Shirt
Warnings: Reader is female
I may have gotten a bit carried away in Leona’s part 😅
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EPEL FELMIER
After listening to another one of Epel’s rants on Vil’s strict training regimen, you came up with a bright idea. Even though you couldn’t see his face due to the way he was spooning you, you could tell from how his rough country accent would get more and more prominent that he was more than annoyed - and thankfully, you knew the best way to cheer him up.
“Hey, Epel,” you piped up, turning your head to look right at him, effectively cutting through his tirade, “that new makeup set that your Dorm Leader gave you? You haven’t opened it yet, right?”
“Uh no,” he scrunched his nose up in confusion, “A hate the stuff.”
“Then can I have the lipstick, please?” 
“Um, sure? I mean, I’m not gonna use it. But why?”
“You’ll see…”
….
The next day, you set your plan into motion. Armed with the sleek black lipstick box that your boyfriend was more than happy to hand over to you and a crisp white shirt you had purchased from Sam’s, you began working on what you supposed was your magnum opus. Once you had finished, ten minutes later, you sent a quick text to Epel, telling him to meet you in your dorm for a ‘surprise’.
When he arrived, he was confused to find you standing at your doorway, dark red tinting your innocent smile, with your hands behind your back. 
“For you,” you chirped, still smiling as you handed him a neatly wrapped box. 
He took it from you slowly and cautiously, suspicious eyes not leaving your face as he searched for any hint of deception. You’ve never given him any reason to be wary of you, or to think that this might all be a prank, but considering you’re best friends with a certain red haired troublemaker, it didn’t hurt to be heedful. 
It was light, very light. He shook it but apart from faint rustling, he couldn’t hear anything that could clue him into what it was. He raised an eyebrow, “what’s in here, doll?”
“You’ll just have to open it and see.”
He ripped open the wrapping paper, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor as he found himself holding a box. Uncovering the lid, he looked down to find a white shirt, carefully folded inside, its collar and entire front covered in lipstick marks - lipstick marks that happen to look suspiciously similar to the shade that you currently wore on your lips right then…
Noticing how his surprise had frozen him, his eyes wise as he appeared entranced at the sight before him, you say, “do you like it? I figured that -”
You didn’t even get to start your explanation, let alone finish it, as you were engulfed by the comforting fragrance of fresh apples and his lips were pressing on yours like his life depended on it and your back was flush against the wall of your entrance passage. One of his hands  clutching the box protectively to his chest and the other flat against the wall right next to your head. You close your eyes and melt against him, letting your arms. When the need for air became more and more apparent, he reluctantly separated himself from you, eyes blazing.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
“So does that mean you like it?”
His answering kiss said more than enough.
….
You should’ve known that your little surprise would come back to bite you. As cherubic as your boyfriend appeared to be, he was nothing but a demon underneath those soft lavender locks and wide doe eyes.
You were reminded of this the next morning when he strolled into your shared homeroom class, right in the middle of registration.
“Mornin’ sir, sorry I’m late.” 
Beside you, you could hear Ace and Deuce choke on their breaths. The air of the room seemed to be submerged in freezing cold water as you could feel your fellow classmates freeze in their seats, a few of them whisper-shouting expletives of shock. Bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere, you look up from your book, only to feel the rest of the world still around you and all the blood leave your face.
Standing at the entryway of the classroom was Epel Felmier, his posture upright and proud. He had abandoned his blazer, waistcoat and bowtie, and instead of his usual Schoenheit-approved expensive lacy high-collared shirt, he donned your gift, wearing his lipstick kiss stains like badges of honour. He waltzed into class bearing the grin of a cat that got the cream.  His smug aura was blinding and his confidence was so corporeal that he appeared to be triple his actual size.
“Mr Felmier,” Professor Crewel sternly asked him, years of teaching seeming to prevent him showing any sign of fluster, his eyes ignited with frustration, “what is the meaning of this?”
“My girl happens to be an artist, Professor,” Epel replied easily, “As a student of the dorm that prides itself in appreciating beauty, it would be rude and becoming to not show off her masterpiece.”
All at once, the entire class turned to look at you, their gazes searing, as you stared straight down at your desk, mentally calculating how hard you’d need to bang your head against it for you to end up in a coma. 
Once the Dorm Leader and Vice Dormleader of Pomefiore find out about Epel’s little stunt, you knew that you would be a goner. 
“Henchman, what is he talking about?” Grim demanded.
“Wow, Y/N,” Ace looked at you like you had suddenly grown three heads, “didn’t take you to be that type.”
“And what type would that be?” Deuce instantly came to your defence.
“ENOUGH!” Professor Crewel’s pointer smacked down against his desk, effectively silencing everyone yet again, “Mr Felmier, get to your seat at once. I expect to see you in detention this lunch break for violating the dress code. Rest assured, I will be taking this up with your Dorm Leader. And Miss L/N-” he turned to you with his sharp gaze, whilst Epel didn’t even look the slightest bit perturbed at facing his Dorm Leader’s impending wrath, “please stay behind after the bell rings. I have something to discuss with you.”
“Oh~” Ace muttered under his breath, “looks like papa’s angry.”
Needless to say, Epel managed to spend the rest of the day wearing that shirt. Throughout the entire time, you could feel the other students give you looks ranging from puzzled to amused to knowing.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
“Hmmm,” Leona sighs, amusement colouring the guttural resonance, as you press another drawn-out kiss under the sharp curve of his jaw, “not that I’m complaining, herbivore, but what’s with the sudden boldness?”
“Well,” you hum languidly, looking at the lipstick stain you left behind - another one to add to the growing collection you had scattered on his cheeks and lower face - moving your mouth lower to his pulse point and letting your lips linger on his skin before flicking your eyes up to look right into darkened green irises, “considering how you always make a big deal over me wearing your scent, I figured that I’d return the favour - let me mark my territory for a change.”
The smugness radiating off of him was palpable and you ignored the deep, satisfied rumble of his chest as you busy yourself with printing your crimson pattern onto the length of his neck, going lower and lower with every press. 
To be honest, finding yourself straddling his lap from his seat at the edge of his bed, your arms draped over his shoulders and his hands resting firmly onto your lower back, was not exactly what you expected when you entered the Dorm Leader’s bedroom to wake him up for his Spelldrive Club, but it definitely wasn’t an unwelcome change. And you certainly weren’t lying when you made that jab at his shamelessly obvious leonine instincts - the innate predatory need to broadcast to the entire school that you were not to be messed with - with the way he would nose and nuzzle at your neck until he was satisfied, or drape his too large blazer over your shoulders before sending you off to class. Though, if you were being candid, you had the suspicion that his behaviour was less to do with his species and more to do with Leona himself. After suffering through decades of denial, him finally being given what he covets so freely and willingly results in him wanting nothing to latch on and never let go, to hold the object of his affections in his arms to keep and protect and cherish. Of course, you could never complain as for all that he seemed to take from you, he also gave to you tenfold. It takes a great deal of trust for a lion to bare his neck (‘both literally and figuratively,’ you think as your mouth presses against the skin under his ear) and a lion as proud and closed-off as the second prince of Sunset Savanna? A feat like that was almost inconceivable. Even now, his tail is coiled around your leg like a vine of ivy as he let you do as you pleased with absolutely no questions asked.
When you once again come back up from yet another kiss, Leona uses this opportunity to cup your face with his hand, using just the right amount of pressure to to grip onto your jaw and rub his thumb over your cheek. His eyes, though still gleaming with want, melts into something more soft. As a master of strategic brilliance, his proficiency in self control is beyond admirable yet whenever you’re near, he finds himself unraveling. And he loves every second of it. His drinks up the sight of you: the flush of your cheeks, the black of your eyes, the smudged rouge of your lips that he smears even further with the edge of his thumb.
Oh Great Seven, you're perfect.
“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, “my little herbivore’s got a set of claws on her. We’ll go on then.”
You smile back at him before resuming back to your original position.
You run your right hand down from his shoulders, not stopping your mouth's work as your fingers slide down his chest, swiftly and seamlessly hooking and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. Grabbing onto the lapels of the honey golden material, you deftly push it downwards off of him, exposing the white expanse of his clothed torso as it falls limply onto his elbows. You then kissed the area near his clavicles, where the first button of his shirt had been left undone so that your lipstick stretched over both his tanned chest and the placket. Seeing the glaringly obvious red mark left behind on the pristine white fabric gave you an idea and before you knew it, you pressed dragging kiss after dragging kiss over the collar and upper side of the front of his shirt. 
You managed to only get to above his breast pocket before your boyfriend was dragging you back up and collided your lips together at a speed so fast it left you reeling. Before you could fully compute the change in direction, pounding knocks on the door snapped you out of your vertigo.
“OI, BOSS,” came the annoyed yells of Ruggie, “You were supposed to be at the club meeting five minutes ago. Quit foolin’ around with the prefect and get over here!”
Leona let out an irked growl but he made no move to shift his position, even when the incessant knocking failed to cease, “Okay! Okay! I’m coming. Jeez!”
“Wait,” you say as you get off his lap and watch him stand up, lipstick stains and all, pick up his duffle sports bag and head to the door, “are you leaving? Like that?”
“Why not?” was his unbothered reply.
Now that the spell over the room had been successfully broken and clarity and common sense once again seized control from the haze, the full impact of your actions dropped into your stomach like a lead anvil. With it being mid afternoon, the Savanaclaw common area, let alone the corridors of the school, would be in high traffic. The thought of the other students (and seven forbid the teachers) seeing him covered in marks and knowing exactly who put them there fills you with pure mortification, sending blood rushing upwards and making your cheeks burn.
“What’s this?” he turns around and makes his way over to you, towering over you and smirking down at your abashed and frozen figure, eyebrow raised, “where did my brave little herbivore go? Don’t tell me she’s all talk after the show she just put on.”
It’s settled. You can never show your face around NRC again. Your only options now are to beg Malleus to smite you with lightning or to pull an Idia and live the rest of your life as a hermit.
He slowly leans down and places a tender kiss on your forehead, whispering over your skin, “Don’t think that this is over. When I come back, I’ll show you how territory is truly marked. You better be prepared.”
He then saunters off, his bag slung over his shoulder, as he opens the door without a care in the world. You can faintly hear Ruggie’s deep inhale before a “WHAT THE HELL?!” fills your ears.
You should’ve known that you could never one up a predator.
(yes, I know that realistically it would be impossible for one application of lipstick to last that long but let me have this)
ACE TRAPPOLA 
It was when you heard the bathroom door slam shut, followed by the sound of your shower head spraying water, that the idea came to you. Knowing Ace, he would spend at least ten minutes in your shower since he liked to make use of the privacy and alone time that Ramshackle provides and his dorm denies. Or at least, that's his go-to excuse when asked why he spends more time sleeping over at your dorm instead of the one he was sorted into. 
Sending a playful smile to the door that separated the two of you, you slowly and quietly got out of bed so as to not disturb Grim (who still insisted on sleeping next to you, even after Ace became a staple in your life. You agreed with him, despite Ace’s annoyed refutes, simply stating that Grim and you would sleep together before your relationship and you weren’t planning on stopping that) and made your way to your closet where you kept one of Ace’s school shirts to prepare you for the occasion where he forgets to bring one. You then rustled through your drawers and pulled out a cylindrical stick of lipstick and got to work. Thankfully you had finished applying and kissing his shirt by the time he was done showering and was dressed and ready so when he entered your bedroom and was greeted by the sight of you wearing a mischievous grin, alarm bells started ringing.
“Hey, babe?” he asks with trepidation, “what do you have behind your back?”
“Nothing,” you answer lightly.
“Oh really?” and he swipes behind you but you dodge in the nick of time. Luckily for him, his fine-tuned basketball reflexes put him at an advantage and in no time at all, he’s got you pinned on your bed, with him sitting on top of you, legs straddled on either side of your hips, and you lying beneath him. In his hands he triumphantly holds your surprise. He unfurls the white fabric and holds it out in front of him with - and then almost drops it onto your face as red blooms across his nose and cheeks when he realises what he’s looking at
He looks at the shirt then at you then the shirt and you in quick succession, taking note as to how your lips appear to be the same shade as the marks on his shirt.
Scrambling together and haphazardly picking up what’s left of his bearings, he attempts to throw on his usual cocksure smirk but his still cherry red countenance betrays his flustered visage, “so what’s this, then.”
“A shirt,” you respond. 
“Looks like you made a lot of effort with this, sweetheart,” he muses, his eyes bright and jaunty, “are you so obsessed with me that you need to mark me up?”
“I thought it would be a fun prank. But seeing that you don’t seem to like it-” you make a move to grab at it but Ace holds both of your wrists down with one hand.
“Hey, who’s saying I don’t like it?!” he argues defiantly, “this has got to be the best present I’ve ever gotten.”
“Really?” you ask, eyebrow raised in amusement.
“Really,” he nods and then looks down at you mischievously, “why don’t I show you how much I like it?”
He then leans down and captures your lips with his and for the nth time of his life, Grim wishes that you were still single.
BONUS FOR ACE BECAUSE I LOVE HIM:
Ace then spends the next ten minutes trying to convince you to do the same to his basketball jersey
You know this boy decided to wear that shirt to the next Unbirthday party, relishing in his dormmates’ stares, the sound of crashing silverware, and the sights of your mortified expression, Cater’s phone recording everything and Riddle’s reddening face.
Poor Deuce goes bright pink and refuses to look at you for the next hour.
Honestly the lecture was so worth it. The collar and heaping and heaping of chores, not so much but he would totally do it again.
Yeah, it turns out that wearing a lipstick stained shirt isn’t technically against the rules and our resident rule-breaker definitely exploits that loophole. You know that rule where you have to wear pink when feeding the flamingos? Nowhere does it say that he’s not allowed to buy a light pink shirt that’s covered in hot pink kiss marks (you went along with this half because you wanted to stop his whining and half because you wanted to mess with his dorm leader for collaring Grim the day before)
Since you forbade him from wearing that shirt in public (for NRC’s collective sanity, Riddle’s vocal cords and Heartslabyul’s auditory abilities) Ace makes it a point to hang up that shirt on the door of his wardrobe in his dormitory so that he can brag about it to ‘the miserable and jealous singles’ he shares his living space with (RIP Deuce and the other Heartslabyul NPCs)
He also bought a few more shirts and begged asked you to do the same to them
That shirt is his new favourite thing of all time. He’s even changed his phone’s wallpaper and his Magicam icon (both of which used to be a selfie of you kissing his cheek as he smiles at the camera) to a mirror selfie of him wearing the shirt and you posing next to him.
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jazzyoranges · 4 months
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i love you write! can i req where shapeshifter reader's Super high after hanging out with stoners and shift to grizzly bear and can't shift back to human form enid report to wednesday, also reader just talk random shet that all wednesday hear was bear grumbling and whining?, tq 3<
New heights
Wednesday Addams x fem!shapeshifter!reader
Words: 1.1k
Warnings: implied drug use, you’re kinda a dumbass lol, my attempt at humor
A/n: writers block is kicking my ass whoops… also happy new years!
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“Wednesday, can you decipher this?” Enid gets up from her bed to show her roommate the text she just got from you, which seemed to be just a bunch of random letters
“What makes you think I’m going to understand better than you.” Wednesday raises an eyebrow at Enid from where she’s sitting at her desk
“I dunno, she’s your girlfriend? Girlfriend telepathy or something”
“I recall her telling me she was, to put it bluntly, getting high with friends tonight.”
“And you didn’t think to lead with that! Do you know where she is?”
“Knowing her, the forest.”
“And you let her!?” Enid exclaims, a hand racking through her hair
“(Y/n)’s the scariest thing in there. Worst comes to worst she comes out with a few scratches.” The blonde is about to respond when her phone pings with another few messages from you
hey uh tell wednesday to come pick up her girlfriend (10:27)
i think (Y/n)’s lost it (10:27)
i’m her friend btw (10:27)
FUCK PLEASE HURRY SHE’S NOT MENTALLY STABLE ANYMSO (10:28)
“Alright put on your big girl pants, we’re getting your girlfriend” Enid’s phone rings with an incoming facetime from you, and she scrambles to click join. What she doesn’t expect is the face of one of your friends, looking a little more than worried
“Oh, thank god! I’m sorry for bad first impressions, but-“ A whine is heard in the background your friend turns to the noise
“Chill out dude, your girlfriend is right here!” He turns back to Enid
“Please put Wednesday on, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bear cry before” Wednesday perks up at her name and swiftly takes the phone from Enid. Your friend turns around the phone so now the two roommates are looking at a grizzly bear that stands on its hind legs, whining and maybe even sobbing
“(Y/n).” Wednesday says, and you snap your head towards the phone held in front of you
Now aware of your girlfriends face in front of you, you get back down onto all fours and boop the screen with your nose
“Wednesday, I missed you! Y’know I was just out here, getting high with my friends as one does, and then all of a sudden I was really sad! Then I started thinking really hard why that might be and I realized it was because you weren’t here! You know how I ugly cry, right? Well I started doing that but for some reason my friends didn’t really understand what I was saying, but I know you’d understand! So that’s why we’re here. Also, I think I might’ve had a growth spurt. I feel really tall and big right now”
Just by the shaking of your phone on the other end of the call, Enid knows her feelings of confusion and maybe fear are shared when you start to grumble and whine. Only you would be able to ramble as a fucking grizzly bear
“C-Connection’s bad, please say something!” Your friend squeaks behind the phone, and Wednesday resists the urge to roll her eyes. It was you, after all. No reason to be scared
“Enid, make sure she doesn’t freak out. I’ll go pick her up.” Wednesday sighs, grabbing her jacket and giving Enid her phone back. She hears you whine even more when you can’t see Wednesday in frame anymore
“(Y/n), can you…” Is the last thing Wednesday hears before leaving the dorm. For an academy that had a curfew, they were astonishingly bad at keeping it upheld. A turn here, climb up that wall, don’t touch that grass near the academy, and boom you’re in the forest before Enid can post something on her blog about Xavier and Bianca’s relationship
You weren’t very difficult to find. The wailing of a bear basically echoed in the forest and claw marks on trees made a clear path to the place you and your friends were getting high at. Well, were getting high at. Wednesday almost wants to watch your friends stay scared behind trees as you claw at the ground below you even more as Enid’s attempts at calming you down seem to be futile
“Wednesday’s almost there, (Y/n)! Maybe just a few more minutes?”
“But I want her now!!” You cry, falling to the ground on your furry stomach with a loud thump
“We’ve already established you’re a bear! We don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, dude!” Your friends voice cracks
“There are two wolves inside of me…” Your head snaps at the sound of a twig snapping in the forest. You stand up on your hind legs, hoping to intimidate whoever seems to be in the forest with you. You’ve already pissed on every tree so no way another bear would dare challenge you for territory
“Who’s there!”
“Don’t get your fur matted, it’s just me.” Wednesday makes her presence known by a chill in the air, which makes your friend jump but ultimately hide behind her. At first he touches her shoulder but the glare she sends his way makes him rethink his life. Luckily he gets out of the way before you barrel towards Wednesday. This time, as a giant tiger
The Addams is quickly tackled to the floor with your entire body weight on her. Your tongue would probably hurt Wednesday if you licked hard enough so you opt for chuffing wildly while having all the characteristics of a needy house cat. You had to make your peace with not being able to purr as a tiger. Which, you were always mad about. “If big cat, why no purr?” as you’d say
“(Y/n).” Wednesday embraces you. Her hands rack through your fur with calculated fingers that knew where to pet you. Under your stomach, behind the ears, and anywhere on your neck. She also knew where your pressure points were, but there’s no fun in dragging a tiger back to Nevermore
You chuff in response, not planning to stop smothering your girlfriend
“(Y/n).” Wednesday tries again. She fails.
“(Y/n).” This time, the look on your girlfriends face makes you stop your smothering. You blow air into her face with a tilt of your head
“Human, now.” You huff in Wednesday’s face while unwillingly getting off of her. Despite her protest you stay a tiger as you walk over to your friend, who looks confused as ever. Giving him a small nod, you take your phone out of his hand with your mouth and let him pet your head
Next, you scoop up Wednesday on your back while deciding it’s a better time than ever to leave
“S-Same time next week?” Your friend calls behind you. You give him the best smile you can whilst your phone is still in your mouth
You’re halfway out the forest when Wednesday finally decides to talk to you again
“For the record, I’m not doing this again the same time next week.”
//-//
Bonus:
Enid opens her door to; you, who’s taken Wednesday’s jacket with a shit eating grin and Wednesday, who’s glaring at you with what looks to be either murder or adoration.
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ejundo · 4 months
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stoner | plug 𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙖𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙭 nerdy | stressed bottom 𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ✰. : @ejundo wc : 3.4k words.
★warnings:
drug use . feminization . seduction . against a wall . literally everywhere but a bed ? . . . opposites attract . begging . deepthroating? charac receiving | i still hate warning | stuff till this day. dub con maybe? yer jus stoned asf and fucking eren. cheating sorta . caught . use of you/your — amab anatomy
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you weren't one to smoke weed as much. . . Every once in awhile you had smoked and used the container that was left on the corner of your desk, but it wasn't as consistent as you had only smoked pot whenever you were desperate enough.. it had helped with your stress— and you not using your container of wax.. meant you had a lot.
that wasn't until now. . . looking at the empty container. a groan left your lips as you quickly texted your friend— who also. didn't have any wax. she had instead given you the information to her plug located in the same dormitory as you, and with a sigh you picked yourself up and headed to the exit of your dorm.
you fist curled up into a ball as you knocked gently onto the door, waiting for an answer.
and a man with brown hair tied up into a manbun stared menacingly down at you. Blinking and jumping in surprise at the sudden action, even if it was suspected..  ー you were told to be a jumpy person.
'what?' his deep voice grumbling. with a blink you opened and closed your mouth like a fish. . . he was extremely menacing even without trying. taking a deep breath in you managed to at least mutter some words.
". . . ehm. . . do you have any wax ? or just ー any weed in general. . i have the money. " the sentence was barely coherent, barely over a whisper. it was a surprise that eren even managed to hear you.
eren's gaze shifted back to you, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise. He leaned against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "well, well, well, isn't that a surprise." He raised his eyebrows, his voice low. "someone as little as you, smoking weed. nothing i woulda expected" his eyes traveled up and down your figure, observing the way you looked.
"You're lucky I've got some left," he said, his voice filled with a teasing undertone. "tell me, why do you need it? tryna relax, or is there something else that's got you all wound up hm??" He raised an eyebrow, boredom in his eyes. "this isn't the first time i've ever smoked weed. . or justー smoked pot in general . . !" with a soft and gentle voice you seemed to get your point across.
staring at you with a look of amusement eren eyed you curious. 'whatever you say lil bro.' eren shrugged before opening his door wide enough for you to slip into. slipping under his raised arm , you observed the new area. it had reeked of weed and drugs and . . it was. . clear that he was previously trying to hotbox the area.
compared to your clean, and more. . . organized dorm. tapestries and dark curtains covered the window from allowing any natural light to enter the adobe. the only light were the led lights that emitted a red color. . . some having a white color to give a more clear vision other then just. . red.
'you have a nice place. eren.' looking down at you, he nodded. clearly not one to talk. letting out a sigh, you stood awkwardly as you awaited for eren to grab what you needed, preparing the money in hand. 'its 25 for 5 grams.' he rolled the small container in his hands. . his. nice , veiny large hands. maybe . . just one paper cut?ー okay that's enough. snapping out of your thoughts. you looked up at him and panickedm he stared at you with a cold and blank expression. 'sorry. . here.' you mumbled, handing him the dollars in exchange for the container.
bowing your head, as a thanks a random voice was heard from your right. averting your gaze over to the voice, it was a lady . . with long jet black hair. ー and in just a tank top and undergarments. quickly turning your gaze away you pursed your lips together in a thin line. as it was pretty random.. for some chick to show up half naked.
'eren. . mmm who is that?' eren also seemed to turn his gaze over. 'him? he's another customer doll.' doll.. it came out of his mouth so smooth. you couldn't help it but cough awkwardly. 'ahm. . . is it okay if i have your socials? incase. . i need more?' saying in a quiet voice, he turned his attention back over to you.
'hhh. yeah, lemme jus' grab my phone real quick.' with a low tone, he reached over to a nearby counter and pulled out what you assumed was his phone. the phone screen light emitting onto his face, showing his features more. . better. it seemed as if time had slowed down . . his gaze fixated on the screen as he opened up a random app.
reading the username as he showed it to you, you nodded your head and input the name into the search bar. quickly pressing the follow button. 'thank you! ♡' you said in a cheerful voice. despite it not being intentional. 'ay , nerdy boy. . c'mere ' as you were about to take you leave, the feminine voice called out. '. .hmm? uh- yes?' you tilted your head, her gaze observing you tiredly, she then raised an eyebrow with a smile as if she had remembered who you were ' yer that nerdy boy that armin and mikasa hang out with yah?' with a nod in your head. she slammed her fist into her open one, "hah! i knew it, no wonder you looked so familiar. . nice ta meet you bro, im eren's girlfriend."
so. . you were gawking over a taken man? shame shame shame ! ! who would know though ? . exactly. you made an o shape with your mouth ' i see . . it's nice to meet you! ehm, mikasa was actually the one who had recommended me to eren,,'
well , at least you two got along correct ? uh. erens girlfriend and you. eren, on the other hand just stood there. watching between you two as you guys acted as if he wasn't there. 'can you get out?' he said at random. blinking rapidly you realized you were overstaying your welcome. . with a shocked expression you bowed multiple of times 'sorry ー ! ! ' quickly rushing out of the apartment in a hurry..
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it didn't take long for eren's girlfriend to quickly grow fond of you, she immediately took a liking to you. . and you assumed it was just so you could help her with her finals . . it was no surprise that by the end of your finals week. that the container that her dear ol' boyfriend gave you. . was empty. even despite it being new!
it was the amount of stress she had put on you . whether it would be - begging you to help her cheat on the exams. but you denied every time, and helped her tutor. that wasn't enough for her though as she would literally try flirting with you. it seemed as if she didn't get that you were not straight . .
'y/n ! ! ~ ehhmm . . professor wasn't clear on the instructions for this project . . can you perhaps tell me? what it was? . . or better yet gimme tha answers hmm?' she stuck out her chest to show off more skin then needed. . with a look of sheer disgust you masked it with a smile.
mentally groaning as you practically forced yourself to not bash this textbook into her face. 'only if you manage to let eren give me a 50 percent discount. i helped you for . . the past 3 weeks.' she grinned from ear to ear as you said that. practically launching herself at you.
you seriously tried to contain yourself from jumping out the window right then and there. . .
'here let me lend you my computer- and you can do the assignment m'kay?' she caressed your neck, and with a raising hand you slapped her hand away.
'i don't like how you caress me, and. . . shove your tits in my face while you have a boyfriend.' a hint of disgust laced behind your voice, a blank expression displayed in an attempt to at least give her a hint. and she ignored it. how surprising. . not
'look darling, he wouldn't know. . i mean- you aren't bad looking. and your voice. is so attractive. . i just want to kiss - y-' you quickly moved out of her grasp by standing up. her face almost landing on the seat before she quickly caught herself.
she whined before supporting herself on her arms. 'hmph ! ! i'll make you fall in love with me one day . . ' she grumbled with a . . disgusting frown. her eyebrows furrowed while she crossed her arms.
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doing as you said, your fingers typed lightly against the keyboard of her macbook. eyes glued to the screen, while you wore glasses to protect your eyes from the horrifying blue light. she really owed you big time.. a sigh emitted from your lips. fingers grazing across the mouse pad as you click send to the designated professor.
looking as if you had crawled out of a grave, a still surprisingly gentle knock made its way onto eren's door once more. waiting for a good . . five minutes the tall man had came into your view looking down upon you as you held the silver macbook in your hands. ' your girlfriend . . needs her macbook back.' he raised an eyebrow, ' shes not my girlfriend anymore.'
' . . . what.' you furrowed your eyebrows and groaned angrily. barging into the room uninvited, 'she told me she would give me a discount if i did her entire work. . and i did so. and now i am here sad and lonely with a macbook, and no more wax!' eren only looked down at you. his usual blank stoic face reading you as you ranted on and on.
'hell! she even made me suffer by shoving her tits in my FACE!? not literally . . but YOU KNOW ! ' raising an eyebrow. he clicked his tongue purposely avoiding the her trying to kiss and rub all up on you . . just to avoid any. pressure on the other.
your eyebags seemed more evident and noticeable as you ranted. but eren didn't seem to mind . . you just seemed more. attractive that way. the nerdy persona dropped as you complained, and especially the way your cute face scrunched up . . he just wondered how would it look like if he just fucked that look off your face. shaking his head he let out a sigh. his hand plopped right onto your head, making you let out a small grunt.
' was joking dude, and with that information - it seems like she might not be my girlfriend anymore' oh were you truly angry, not because of eren breaking up with her. you were always angry, every time.
with a groan, your eyes drooped, 'can i just have my gram. . i'll pay you.' eren looked you up and down. 'how about i roll you up a joint ah .. you ever tried that before? it helps a lot more then. . wax.' you didn't care at this point. dragging yourself to the nearest couch and plopping down on it.
eren had locked the door and shut the curtains, that were open and disappeared into what you assumed was his room. the led lights shining a bright vibrant red that covered the entire room. even the led lights that would have at least gave some natural white lighting was turned red. small footsteps heard as eren came back from the room. a roll evident and seen in his hand. ' sets the mood.'
you raised an eyebrow in confusion before he pointed to the l.e.d's a small oooh coming from you along with a nod. blinking slowly, you opened you mouth. and suddenly the joint was placed between your lips. ' . . smoke it like you usually would. nothing different.'
and doing as said, your body grew lighter after you exhaled the smoke into the sky. coughing heavily you held your chest, growing teary eyed before rubbing them away. ' shit ! . . ' a heavy low laugh coming from the taller man.
he made his way next to you sitting down next to you. ' wanna watch some tv?' he asked, and arm resting on the hedge of the cough behind you. ' uh yeah sure? do you have . . netflix? im tryna finish this one show. he would occasionally pass you the joint.
that helped you . . forget about her. and forget about every single thing that pissed you off. after that . . . you felt more relaxed . . and time flew by just . like . that .
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it was hot
scorching
flaming !
blistering even ! !
and you weren't even outside . . it was probably the man who was sitting way to close to you his body heat emitting onto you. his gaze on your smaller form, when did he even get that close? . whatever . . with the roll in his hand. bringing it to ur lips. 'cmon. . take one more hit . '
did he mean to make it sound that? hot . . or seductive. you didn't know . . all u knew is that it made you tingle. wrapping your lips gently around the wrap, you gently sucked in inhaling the smoke. he pulled it away and he was. . . much more closer. exhaling it into his face, he didn't even seem bothered. a look of lust in his eyes as he eyed you like a piece of meat.
'y'know. . i didn't think a boy like you would make me feel a certain way. but here i am. . a desire to kiss you silly. ' you smiled before quickly pecking his surprisingly soft lips. 'jus' like that. . . ? ' a grin on his face. ' no, like this. ' and quickly he pulled your lips in for an enchanting kiss.
pulling away with half lidded eyes, you stared up at eren. . . maybe it was the led lights that made him look more attractive, or perhaps it was the desire and need for him. small strands stuck to his forehead while his hand slithered behind you, captivating you. enchanting you.
'ever gave head before doll?' eren whispered in your ear, his warm breath brushing against your ear. shaking your head. you sat up and looked at him. ' mm-mm. . ' he leaned back spreading his legs and letting his arms resting on top of the couch. ' first time for everything hm?' the bulge in his sweats seemed more noticeable. and the closer you looked it was extremely noticeable that he wasn't wearing any underwear.
with hesitated movements, your hand traced the bulge slowly rubbing on it. he was big and that was an understatement. he let out a low groan a chuckle following behind it. ' don't be scared . . . c'mon doll. ' he grinned, his large hand cupping your hands, slowly moving your hand with his slipping past the band of his sweats . . his hand wrapped around yours as you held his cock. the warm feeling new to your cold hands .
a small hum emitting from him as you stroked him, ‘fuck . .’ seeming to get the hang of it, his hand slowly slipped out of his own pants. his head thrown back as he enjoyed the pleasure. letting go you decided it was time to try something new . for you at least! his head slowly snapped back to you, a smirk displayed on his face as you got onto your knees. it had hurt staying there for a while but the blanket pulled along covered the hardwood floors.
discarding his pants you were now face to face with the leaking member that dripped pre cum. his hand travelled to your head rubbing it slowly ‘take your time doll.’ he mumbled with a low and seductive voice.
with a soft sigh, your tongue grazing along the head of his cock. lips closing in in them as you struggled to suck on it, the taste — salty yet savory. you savored the flavor, as it leaked onto your tongue.
with a pop your lips left the tip and your tongue slowly trailed down the member a saliva trail following behind. erens hand lifted your head in prder for the two of you to make eye contact. your lips stopped at a prominent vein, sucking on it as eren eyed your expression. a low chuckle coming from the other. ‘mmm. .’ a grin on his face while his hand caressed your scalp.
.
-
.
you and eren were now stripped of clothing. your face rested against the pillows of the couch, moans and whines leaving your lips as erens tongue lapped at your hole, everything was a blur your mind fuzzy and blank as you left his long tongue insert you. curling your toes your grip on the couch intensified.
his grasp on your ass kneaded your ass as he pulled away, observing the clean and wet hole. a grin on his face. 'think you're ready f'me doll . . .' he sat up, reaching downwards as he positioned himself between your open legs. gently pushing down he slowly inserted his cock inside. 'please . . be gentle! . . f-first time. .' you mumbled out, your head sideways against the pillow while your teary eyes stared at the brown haired man. he patted your cheek gently for reassurance. ' im not that cruel baby . ' he whispered, as he fully settled inside of you.
he waited until you were more used to his size. when you felt less tense is when he started moving at a slow pace. his hand tracing over your hot skin, in contrast to his cold hand. holding your waist as one hand traveled down slowly gripping one of your ass cheeks kneading it and spreading it as he watched him slipping in and out of you.
his member stretching you out, your whines , moans , and whines were music to his ears. ‘fnhhg!. . ist’mucherrhe!’ incoherent words slipping from you as he slowly started going at a faster pace. ‘ i know doll . be good f’me and take it well yeah? ‘ his hand snaking around your waist as he leaned foward, one hand gripping your leaking cock and the other toying and flicking your hardened nipple. slipping out of you, he slammed right back into you a moan ripping out of you repeating the process as your mind went blank.
moving at a animalistic pace, all that was heard was the consistent sound of skin slapping together and your bated and loud whimpers and moans. eren groans and moans barely audible due to yours . .
what surprised you most is at how many rounds the two of you had done. he would pin you against the wall while his cock slammed into you, your back arched and your ass stuck out. cum splattered on the wall and leaking out your ass as he fucked you over the coffee table, your legs held up to your head while he fucked into you. cum splattered in your stomach and a splash on the coffee table. his seed seeping out of you while he fucked you shamelessly on the ground. your cock rubbing on the ground while drool spilled out of your mouth and your tears stained your own cheeks.
your cum leaking onto the glistening floor, as his leaked out of your hole onto the ground. that was when the two of you reached your limit. heavy breathing could be heard from the two of you as he held you in his arms. your hole holding onto— nothing as it leaked heavily onto the ground.
eren wrapped his arms around you, but stopped as he heard the front door slam open. ‘eren baby!— waht the!…’ the familiar and aggravating voice burst through the doors. her figure still as she looked at the sight of the two of you naked, eren holding you in his arms. ‘. . . im breaking up with you?’ he said bluntly. her bag dropping to the ground as she blinked rapidly.
woops?
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finally . . finished . . im dead ! ! save me ! 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹
but i kinda got lazy at the end . . wahwah the smut part kept confusing me and i was trying to make eren fuck yew guys silly and then — kabloom no!!!! my brain farted and decided to be lazy and rush it . . grr . .
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eoieopda · 5 months
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sudden + (a)cute | jyh
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jeong yunho’s got a serious case of downbaditis — oh, and also a cold.
pairing: jeong yunho x reader au: hurt/comfort, sick fic, friends to something type: drabble (f) word count: 2k rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact. cw: gn!reader; illness (obviously); ft. clueless roommate!mingi a/n: my inaugural ateez fic! inspired by my own sick day today + my own personal love sickness re: jeong yunho, lmao. a/n 2: reposting for the fourth time because it's not in the fucking tags, lmao. 📍permanent taglist(s). @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bahng-chrizz
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You realize too late that days off and the “do not disturb” feature should go hand-in-hand.
Because you didn’t think to silence your notifications, some form of unsolicited contact slips through the cracks. Just like that, your Netflix binge is unceremoniously halted; hopes are dashed; and your phone vibrates so many fucking times in quick succession that it starts scooting its way across your coffee table, hellbent.
With a grunt of abject displeasure, you tear your half-glazed eyes off the television screen ahead. They flick down to the source of the sound to identify the caller before you commit to sitting upright off the couch. It’s a lost cause, not unlike your eagerly-awaited plans to do nothing. The nuisance lays face-down against the tabletop, buzzing relentlessly as it runs out of real estate.
Tragically, you don’t have a choice.
Before your phone can drive itself over the edge Thelma-and-Louise style, your hand darts out to catch it. You glower as your fingers curl around it, sharp tongue ready to lash out at the co-worker you told no fewer than 809 times that you were giving yourself a long weekend.
“For fuck’s sake, Yeosang,” you mutter to yourself.
Pulling the phone up to your face for closer inspection, you realize with a scoff that it’s not an incoming call at all. 
It’s — one, two, three, four, five six, seven — eight rapid-fire texts and counting, all of which were sent within seconds of one another; and none of which came from the lovable doofus in the office next to yours.
You Know? [10:03 AM]: Tell… You Know? [10:03 AM]: My…. You Know? [10:03 AM]: Story….. ! You Know? [10:03 AM]: 🤧 You Know? [10:04 AM]: 😷 You Know? [10:04 AM]: 🏨 You Know? [10:04 AM]: ☠️ You Know? [10:04 AM]: 🪦
Oh.
Immediately, your tight-lipped scowl cracks wide open.
Different doofus.
In the time it takes for you to convince your phone’s facial identification that you are, in fact, a human being, the bombardment continues.
You Know? [10:05 AM]: 👼🏻
This one pulls an unexpected chuckle out of you that’s still ringing out when you tap on his contact card and start dialing.
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With your hands full and your wrists weighed down with plastic pharmacy bags, it takes three tries to barge into your best friend’s apartment like you own the place. Having underestimated your own clumsy strength, you watch in mild-to-moderate horror as the door flies open, cringing as you await the sound of the knob smashing into the hallway wall.
You get a yelp instead, followed shortly by a huffy, “Aish!”
The newest addition to the apartment steps into view with a pink mark in the center of his forehead. His eyes are as wide as they can get, both blinking slowly. As he rubs gingerly at the blooming bump, you wonder if the look on his face is any more dazed than usual. It must be, you conclude. He wasn’t expecting you any more than you were expecting him.
“Sorry!” You squeak, shuffling the tupperware in your grip from one hand to another. Your warmed palm reaches out to pat his forearm apologetically. “Are you okay?”
Mingi shrugs, already over the heart attack you’ve given him. Now, it’s intrigue that lights up his face. His eyes scan over the goods you’re toting. Soon enough, they stick on the samgyetang that’s scorching through its plastic confines to your fingertips.
As it turns out, Yunho’s new roommate is just as blatant as the previous one.
Where the hell does he find these people?
“You brought me soup?” He beams, teeth and tone both as bright as the fucking sun.
Your mouth opens to respond, but all that comes out is some useless sound that vaguely resembles a groan. You bite your lips together, searching for some way to let him down gently. In the end, you come up with exactly nothing.
“I —”
Withdrawing your hand from his arm, you gesture over your shoulder in the direction of Yunho’s bedroom. “It’s for, um… He’s —”
Mingi looks to where you’re pointing. His eyebrows raise, signaling his arrival at confused. “Yunho’s home?”
Jesus Christ.
“You didn’t… notice?” Your tone matches his. So does the altitude of your eyebrows, you assume.
For far too many seconds, the pair of you eye each other in stupefied silence. The person who would normally interject to save you from this hell doesn’t arrive to do so, leaving you without an escape route.
This is what happens when you find all your roommates on the internet.
“So, I should — Um.” You wave once again towards your friend’s door. “Yeah.”
You bow — you’re not sure why — and shuffle a step backwards, turning slowly on your heel the second you’ve created enough distance. 
Propelled by your own awkwardness, you rocket away from your friend’s roommate and fling open your second door in as many minutes. You shut it behind you with your eyes closed tight. For good measure, you keep your back pressed to the wood, as if your own embarrassment is something you could ever lock out.
“Took you long enough,” comes the rattle of Pestilence itself.
Without unclenching any part of your body, you mutter, “I had my second run-in with your Craigslist roommate, and it went exactly as well as the first. You need a better screening process — seriously.”
A loud laugh is quickly replaced by a cough that you feel in your own chest. Frowning, you open your eyes to take in the lump in front of you; and within seconds, you have to fight off your own laughter.
Sprawled out over an unmade bed, Yunho sports an outfit you couldn’t defend if your life depended on it. Dark brown waves peek out from underneath a beanie, leaving only his eyes to crinkle up at you above a black surgical mask. Even without his mouth visible, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s grinning at you.
Well, damn.
You could stand there all day, basking in the way he looks at you, but you don’t let yourself revel in it. Cheeks already burning, you can’t risk getting caught swooning. 
You’ve embarrassed yourself enough, haven’t you?
To avoid detection, you shake your head to clear it and beg yourself to focus on the absurdity before you. In doing so, you note immediately that Yunho didn’t bother with a shirt; however, he did opt for gym shorts. They clash wildly with the pair of fuzzy, striped socks on his feet. That discovery flusters you to no end because they’re yours.
“You’re dressed for, like, three conflicting seasons,” you muse, gesturing from head to toe with your free hand. The plastic bags you’ve been wearing like bracelets rustle with the movement. “Couldn’t decide on a climate?”
“Hey!” His whine is muffled by his mask, though his congestion certainly doesn’t help. “One-third of me is freezing.”
Before you can nudge his right leg out of the way, Yunho moves it for you, freeing up the corner of his mattress for you to sit down. In fact, he takes all his limbs with him; summons all his strength to sit upright in front of you. You quickly avert your eyes from his flushed chest and focus on your stupid little soup, as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen in your life.
When Yunho clocks what you’re holding, he damn near gasps. His eagerness barrels through his hoarseness, making your heart flutter. “Is that your mom’s samgyetang?”
“It’s her recipe,” you correct him. “She’s visiting friends in Sydney, remember?”
For someone with a skull full of snot, Yunho’s quicker on the uptake than you would’ve thought to give him credit for. His eyes crinkle even further into a smile as they flit between your hands and your face — and shit, do they sparkle. 
Before he can confirm that you not only brought him soup but hand-made it, you wrestle your arm free from the non-recyclable trap cutting off your circulation. 
“I — uh, didn’t know which of the five thousand types of decongestants to bring you.” 
You shove no less than four of them towards him, smiling sheepishly.
“Choose your fighter.”
It’s something you thought for sure he’d laugh at, that stupid little joke, but Yunho is uncharacteristically quiet. He just stares down at the over-the-counter medications in his hands, wearing a look you’ve never seen before. One that suggests you’ve given him your beating heart instead of Guadenesin, wrapped it in a bow instead of a kilometer-long pharmacy receipt.
It’s not a look you know what to do with, so you shut up and do your best to ride out your galloping pulse.
Without looking up from your offering, Yunho eventually says, “I didn’t even tell Craigslist Roommate that I was sick. He would’ve grabbed Albothyl or something equally useless and called it a day.”
“That tracks.” You nod. A small smile works its way over your lips. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have trusted him with your sinuses, either.”
Another pause settles in the space between you. It’s not uncomfortable, sitting quietly with your person, but you can’t help wondering after that wrinkle between his brows.
“I didn’t even think to ask him,” he admits, like he’s forgotten that he’s your first call, too.
Some sort of realization must hit him like a lightning strike because Yunho suddenly looks up from his hands. That’s all it takes to stir up the butterflies in your stomach. Unfortunately, it takes far more effort from you to ignore them.
“You made me soup,” he sighs, sounding disappointed. 
Or frustrated. 
Both — or maybe neither?
Whatever it is, it makes your palms sweat more than you ever plan to admit, so you simply nod again.
“I made you soup,” comes your unhelpful echo.
Silence.
Staring.
You offer a reminder that neither of you needs, “You’re sick.”
More silence and staring.
Then, a conclusion that nobody asked for: “You’re sick, and you should therefore have soup.”
Yunho drops his face into his hands, groaning loudly. The various layers of interference make him twice as difficult to understand, but you don’t miss a single, spilling word. 
“I’m sick, and you made me soup; and I can’t kiss you about it because then you’ll be sick; and I don’t even know how to make you soup.”
Stunned to silence, you just sit there — blinking dumbly, all the while— like it’s the only thing you know how to do.
That’s not true.
You know what you want to do, and now you know you’re not alone in that. Most importantly, you know that acting on any of it will cost you several days of sneezing your brains out.
The groan you let out is twice as loud as Yunho’s was and three times’ as frustrated. It erupts out of you, and when you’ve expelled it fully, you crumple into a heap at the foot of his bed, thoroughly defeated. You curse him through the hands that now cover your face, “You rat bastard.”
Yunho snorts. “Excuse me?”
“What even is this timing?” You tear one hand away from your face and land a light smack on his knee. “You really waited to tell me any of this until you were contagious? Be fucking for real.”
His laugh shakes his shoulders, leaves him in the form of squeaks.
“The nerve of you, Jeong Yunho.”
The mattress dips when he drops himself into the space in front of you. Propped up on his elbow, he looks at you with one eyebrow raised.
“You bought out a pharmacy and made me soup,” he counters. “You brought this on yourself.”
You roll your eyes, although it does nothing to distract from the way you’re giggling.
“Did you not wanna get kissed?” Yunho challenges, “Because that’s how you get kissed.” 
With a grin, his knuckles nudge yours, returning your earlier knock far more affectionately than you sent it. “Babo.”
“You’re the babo,” you sniff. 
Despite your childish rebuttal, you take the opportunity to slip your hand fully into his. It’s not the first time, by any means, but the difference is clear; and when you squeeze gently, you feel it come right back.
With your laughter faded out, you sigh, “Yunho?”
He hums in acknowledgement, likely too exhausted by your ill-timed antics to power up a proper response.
“Can you please eat your stupid soup and get better already?”
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lexisecretaccx · 2 months
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Text me back- Chris sturniolo
(Femreader x toxic Chris, slight smut, I don’t know if I like this fully)
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My phone buzzes again, 14 unread messages from Chris. I’m sick of him he’s always acting like he loves me and then he goes and fucks another girl. If I know him enough he’s probably on his way here now.
I open his messages, “hey wsp” “Wyd” “I love you” “you gonna answer” “you sleeping” “it’s 10pm that’s early for you” “you aren’t fucking sleeping” “your active on insta” “are you with another guy” “who is he” “are you at your house” “fuck you” “I’m coming over”
I let out a sigh before laying back on my couch, I can’t deal with him he’s toxic as fuck sometimes, but when I see him I lose control, we have a connection and we both lose control around eachother, I can’t stay mad at him I do love him and I fucking hate myself for it.
I jump out of my seat when my front door is being pounded on, obviously it’s Chris. I slowly walk up to the door preparing myself to be reamed at I open the door and he pushes straight past me into my house.
“Where the fuck is he?” He yells, I shut my door before pinching the bridge of my nose and sighing. “Chris there’s nobody here except me, I just..” “you just what? Just thought you were too good to text me back?” He hisses as he walks towards me standing infront of me looking down at me, he looks somewhat upset.
“No Chris I just can’t deal with your bullshit sometimes.” I mumble as I lean against the wall. “My bullshit? What about your bullshit where you leave me on delivered for hours on end and expect me not to freak out.” He leans in closer to my face. “You’re pathetic y/n.” He says in a low tone.
His face is inches away from me as his eyes flicks between my eyes and lips. “Chris I’m sorry.” I whisper before I feel his hands snake up my waist and under my shirt. “I can’t do this right now.” I pull away before walking over to my couch and sitting down, crossing my arms. “Why don’t you go to one of those other girls you fuck with?” I laughed sarcastically.
“None of them take me as well as you do.” He leans down from behind the couch and whispers in my ear. I roll my eyes trying to ignore the wetness growing in my core. I get up and walk to the kitchen to grab him a drink. “Pepsi?” I say bluntly, he nods before coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist and he starts to kiss my neck.
“Chris,” I moan softly before he turns me around and pushes me against the fridge, he pushes his lips against mine as he kisses me roughly and pushes his body against mine, my hand find its way into his hair and he wraps one hand around my waist and the other on the back of my neck.
His tongue finds its way into my mouth and the kiss turns sloppy as I feel one of his hands travel down my sweatpants and he prods my dripping heat through my panties.
“Fuck..” I moan breathily as he starts to slip his hand under my panties and starts to rub circles on my clit. I grab on to the back of his neck for stability but all of a sudden I hear his phone ring, without stopping or breaking the kiss he checks who was ringing him I break the kiss and look at his phone.
‘Olivia’ was the caller ID. Chris looks up at me and his eyebrows furrow “I don’t know who that is I promise.” He pleads with me as he removes his hand from between my legs. “Answer it.” I say coldly, he shakes his head before I grab the phone out of his hand and answer the call.
“Hey,” a female voice, I look up at Chris for him to answer. “Uh hi” he spoke nervously, the girl, ‘olivia’ laughed softly before saying “I miss you, why'd you break it off with me chris?" chris rolls his eyes and sighs before looking at me awkwardly "I'm not interested anymore Olivia, never call me again." he says sternly and grabs the phone from me, "what? is there someone else?" Olivia chokes, she started crying, pathetic. "honestly? yeah there is, so fuck off and don't ever talk to me." She starts crying harder and Chris hangs up the phone.
"where were we?" chris says before placing his phone on the counter and trying to kiss me again. "you were just leaving chris." I smirk lightly. His face drops and he steps back, "what? I broke things off with all of the other girls for you! Everything I do is for you y/n." he says in a manipulative tone, "you told me you didn't know who that was." I spoke softly.
"because I don't love her, I love you ma please, I just want you." He begs, " I made that poor girl cry because you're the only one I need." He steps closer to me and puts his hands on my waist. I know he's probably manipulating me but fuck I still love him. "Fine, come on." I roll my eyes before I start walking out the kitchen and upstairs.
"I'll block all their numbers and their instas and everything babe I promise." He says before kissing my cheek. "Can we watch a movie?" I ask as I sit on the bed and Chris comes to sit next to me, "yeah whatever you want mama." he smirks as he places his hand on my thigh.
A/n: hey y’all, little Chris one shot for y’all, toxic Chris is kinda hot 😍 I hope you enjoy this, I like making one shots. Love ya!
Taglist: @kvtie444 @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008
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zreamy · 1 year
Text
nothing to lose
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pairing: jay park x fem!reader
summary: after a hockey party, a football game, and a near perfect first kiss, jay is humbled by his (practically silent) friend sunghoon, who reminds him that he has nothing to lose.
genres: university / college au, friends (uni crushes) to lovers, smut, fluff
warnings: minors dni, vaguely (very?) british undertones..
word count: 24,064 .. sorry.
playlist: awkward sza, do you like me? daniel caesar
author's note: please just be nice to me and let me know your thoughts (positive / negative / anything as long as ur not mean abt it) .. thank u @asahicore my rock, my bestie, my beta reader .. <333 hope u enjoy !!!
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When you pair his kind eyes and charming smile with his ever-positive outlook on life, it’s easy to see why Park Jongseong is heavily popular amongst the student body; even described by your flatmates (and the rest of his fan club) as the stuff of dreams. And in your dreams, you know exactly why he’s staring in your direction with a sweet smile on his face. In real life, however, you have absolutely no idea and it’s kind of weird. Not his smile itself, no, his smile is.. really pretty, but it’s kind of weird in the sense that it’s directed at you. 
You think. 
Most of the library’s population sits across the room in the computer lab and based on your seat, at an empty table, in the (also empty) far corner, he’s either smiling at you or at the wall that your head is resting on. It’s not until the two of you lock eyes that you feel you should smile back, though your brows knit together at the way he whips his head around in the other direction when you do – a move that seems out of character for the Park Jongseong that you know. Or rather, the Park Jongseong Jay that you knew.
The Jay you knew was a (more than) pleasant enough guy who grinned in a way that pushed a dimple into his cheek every time he got to class and sidled his way through the aisle to sit in the seat next to you. The very first time he did it he’d mistaken you for someone else, his smile faltering slightly as he sat down anyway, a large hand extended to you.
“Jay,” he introduced himself, nodding thoughtfully when you told him your name and holding on to your hand for a split second longer than what was comfortable. And even though it was clear that he’d been sitting in the wrong seat, at Na Jaemin’s end-of-year party months later, you acted shocked when he told you about how he’d forgotten to put his contacts in that morning. Nonetheless, he continued sitting next to you in that class for the rest of the semester.
From your current seat in the library, you watch him curiously, wondering if he might look over again. For two minutes, he leans against a shelf in the reference section, completely unaware of his audience (you) as he types on his phone. You can’t take your eyes off him until the sudden vibration of your phone startles you, your hand reaching for it immediately thinking (hoping?) it might be a text from him.
yj: hockey mixer tn 
yj: what are you guys wearing 
You feel relieved to see that it’s just Yunjin in the group chat, though, as you read the messages, you struggle not to roll your eyes seeing that she (captain of the hockey team) is still trying to convince you (non-member of the hockey team) to go to the hockey mixer. By the looks of things, the field hockey team is the last to take advantage of the space that the student union building has to offer. Functioning as a nightclub over the weekend (and on select weeknights), The U is the place to be if you’re looking for a good time for a good price.
Unlike the other club parties, tonight’s hockey mixer is Yunjin’s answer to concerns raised by members of the students’ union about binge drinking on campus. According to her: “A mixer is an informal gathering where people mingle, interact, and get to know each other. And a party is,” she paused, fixing her eyes on the ceiling as if waiting for divine inspiration to strike. “Fun.” She didn’t seem pleased when you asked if this meant that the mixer would be boring and eventually confessed that the hockey party would be a mixer in name only.
You lock your phone without responding and lift your gaze back to references only to find that Jay is gone; stuck to the part of the bookshelf he was leaning on, you notice a lopsided poster featuring two crossed field hockey sticks and a ball over a green gradient, and a chill runs down your spine. If Yunjin is one thing, she’s bad at graphic design persistent. 
Unfortunately, in all your time spent not working, you find that your laptop hasn’t begun doing your research paper for you, and the Google Doc looks exactly the same as it did when you last edited it one hour ago, with only the intro from the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals website pasted into it. In the bottom left corner of your screen, a white box tells you that it’s 467 words long, and, feeling a rare bout of motivation, you get to work paraphrasing and attempting to condense the text.
As morning turns into afternoon, the library starts to get busier and busier, and despite the low hum of several different conversations creeping in through your earphones, you’ve gotten into a flow with your work and don’t let anything distract you. That is until Jay himself lets his backpack thud onto the table across from you, brows raising a little at the sudden noise, before pulling out the chair and sitting down. 
“Need a study buddy?” he asks, a tentative hand on the zipper of his jacket. 
You take a moment to observe him; the way he asked to join you after having already joined you, settling into the seat before you’d had a chance to say anything. A part of you wants to say “no,” just to see how he reacts, but, with a smile on your face, you take out your earphones and say, “Sure.” 
A grin spreads over his lips as he mumbles the word sweet, shrugging off the oversized coat and letting it drape over the back of his chair, revealing a chunky pair of headphones sitting around his neck and a thin gold chain with a hook pendant on it. His dark hair sits flat on his forehead and he rakes a hand through it twice before taking a textbook out of his bag. He doesn’t touch it, though. Instead, he lets his elbows rest on the table in front of him, biceps flexing slightly under his sleeves as he crosses his forearms. “What are you working on?” he asks.
“A report on the integration of renewable technology in buildings, for my sustainable development class.” 
Jay hums, brows raising slightly. “Renewable tech like solar panels and shit, right?” 
“Right.” 
Another grin, pretty, sincere. “It’s cool you’re getting to learn about the stuff you care about,” he tells you, and even if you hadn’t been looking at him, you’d have been able to hear the smile in his voice, light, sweet. Jay is sweet. The statement trickled out of his mouth so simply, so casually, a small detail that you have to rack your brain to recall sharing with him; still just as attentive as you remember. “Really.”
“Yeah,” you nod, smiling too. “Exactly.” 
There’s a distinct comfort that rolls off of Jay in waves as the two of you chat, and the scene feels familiar. It’s reminiscent of the nights you’d spend together last term, at a table like this one with the notes from your shared Property Law lecture sprawled out in front of you while pretending to study. The two of you would find anything else to talk about, and constantly received dirty looks from the laughter you’d struggle to stifle. 
It’s not until Jay reaches for his textbook that you properly check it out, and as a non-fashion student, you’re not expecting to know what subject he’s studying but you’re pretty sure that Nutrition, Energy, and Human Performance are not part of his curriculum. “Excercise Physiology?” you ask, reading its title.
“I picked it up earlier for Sunghoon. He’s at the rink all morning,” he nods.
“So why are you studying it?”
Jay laughs, shifting in his seat. “It’s, like, the only thing I have in my backpack. I just came over here ‘cause I wanted to say hey.” 
It takes everything in you not to say “aww” out loud; his sweetness palpable, his smile contagious, and his eyes so bright and warm that your heart soars in your chest when you look at them. “Hey,” you say after a beat. 
“Hey,” he chuckles. “How was your break?” 
“It was good! I went home for a week, or so, and then I got bored and came back to hang out with Chaewon,” you tell him, grinning despite yourself at the memory of poorly mixed cocktails and days spent lounging by the pool at her family’s holiday home. “85% of the summer was just us running around being stupid.” 
“And the other 15?” 
You feel more than a little awkward about telling him that you spent the other 15% fooling around with Jaemin, so with a forced smile you tell him, “Just more running around being stupid.” Hopefully, he can’t sense your mild discomfort and thinks you’re scratching your neck because it’s itchy and not because of the slight guilt you feel. “How was yours?” 
“Minus Chaewon, I had, like, the exact same break.” He pauses, breaking out into the widest grin you’ve ever seen. “Oh, and I went to the Yuuri show! It was crazy.” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “I was gonna text you but I didn’t wanna bother you during break or anything.” 
“Oh,” you say, dragging the vowel. “Right. So you’re bothering me during term time instead?” You tease, though with the way Jay’s eyes widen and his brows knit together, it doesn’t seem like he’s caught on to your joking tone. “I’m kidding, tell me all about it,” you add as quickly as you can manage, a huge smile on your face. 
Relief washes over you as Jay laughs, his shoulders shaking, and his nose crinkling, showing off the scar across its bridge that you’ve come to like so much. After calming down, he watches you carefully, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Right,” he finally says, taking a breath before talking with excitement and at great length about the concert. 
But it isn’t without slight interruption: Jay’s phone vibrates against the table a few times, and he ignores it, eventually turning it on do not disturb before squinting at you. “You’re not allowed to laugh. Pinky promise me you won’t laugh.” He holds his hand out to you, wagging his pinky finger in your face. There’s a smile on his lips when you link your finger with his, his skin rough against your own when he squeezes your pinky. As much as his tight grip is starting to hurt, you (unsuccessfully) fight off a smile when you realise that the two of you are effectively holding hands. 
“I’m not gonna laugh,” you promise.
A beat passes before Jay lets out a chuckle. “That’s my girl,” he says, voice low as if he didn’t want you to hear him. You wish you didn’t hear him. 
When you try to let go, he doesn’t budge, only easing up a little so he’s not cutting off your circulation anymore; just holding it lightly with his. Across the table from you, struggling to meet your eyes, Jay wears a sheepish look. “He threw his pick out into the crowd at the end of the show, and I caught it!” he tells you, looking away. “And I cried..” His voice thins out into practically nothing though you think you hear the words “home,” and “Heeseung,” before he stops talking completely. 
Jay’s sentimental side has tugged at your heart for as long as you’ve known him, and given the way he’d sobbed quietly in his seat at the cinemas when you’d gone out to watch a late showing of Spider-Man 2 together, you find it easy to imagine him welling up over catching Yuuri’s guitar pick. 
For some reason, much like the tears he’d shed over Peter Parker, you find the thought quite cute, and a smile teases at the corners of your mouth as you make a mental note to finally listen to some Yuuri songs later on. Jay looks at you expectantly, and before you have the chance to speak his phone starts to ring, vibrating incessantly against the table, though Jay doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 
“Do you need to get that?” you ask, unable to suppress the snort that makes its way out. 
Jay shakes his head. “You promised me. You’re still promising me,” he says, lips curving into a frown as he makes a show of waving your still-linked hands.  
“No, it’s cute that you cried.” 
He seems shocked by this. “Really?” 
“A little.” 
His mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he furrows his brows at you. “A li—” He’s cut off by his phone vibrating once again, and he releases your pinky to check it. Jay sighs lightly, reading the messages from his screen and picking up the textbook. “Sorry, Hoon’s on my ass about this thing. I gotta go.” 
Disappointment weighs lightly on your shoulders at his words, though you do feel better when you see the little pout on his lips, hoping that it means he doesn’t want your conversation to end either. “I get it,” you say, shooting him a smile that you hope is convincing as he puts the book in his bag before pulling his jacket back on, and standing up from his seat. 
“I’ll text you,” he says cheerfully, waving at you before leaving. He looks over his shoulder a few moments later, waving again with the same smile from earlier on his face. 
You can’t help but watch as he retreats, captivated by the air of confidence he somehow exudes even without showing his face, until he disappears into the mix of students by the entrance, becoming just another bag and shoulders in the crowd. 
Without Jay to chat to, the idea of sitting in the library becomes jarring, and suddenly it’s time for you to leave too. You don’t hesitate to grab your phone when it vibrates twice next to you, an odd combination of the relief from earlier and slight disappointment hitting you when you see that it’s Yunjin — texting you directly this time. 
yj: if you wanna ignore me turn off read receipts 
yj: open bar for girls on the team
you: sounds like the hockey girls are gonna have a good night
yj: i’ll get you a jacket
you: don’t bother i’m not going. 
SWANG rattles through tinny speakers in the student union and with every free drink you knock back, it gets harder and harder to pretend to Yunjin that you’re not having a good time. The team jacket she snagged for you and Chaewon to share fits a little big over your shoulders as you conclude that Number 20 is a lot more popular than you thought if the vaguely disappointed look on many faces when they see your face is anything to go by. 
Sitting in a booth towards the back of The U, you and Yunjin mumble along to the song with a shot in each hand as she starts a countdown from 3! and you wonder whether or not you’ll be able to make it to class in the morn—2!—ing given how much you’ve had to drink and how much of the night is still left to happen 1! The formerly rancid tequila goes down like water the first time around, and gets caught in your throat the second time. 
“I’m so happy you came tonight!” she yells in your ear, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, choosing to gush while you cough into the crook of your elbow. “I always have the most fun with you but you never come out.” Her drunkenness is evident in the slightly higher pitch that her words take on and the way most of the consonants come out almost the same way the vowels do. 
As sweet as she’s being, you can’t ignore the alarms blaring in your head hearing that your best friend would describe going out (at least) two nights a week as “never” going out, but you chuckle along anyway, locking your hand with hers. 
With a smile on his face, Lee Jeno brings Chaewon back to the booth in one piece, ruffling her hair a little before raising a hand to salute you and Yunjin, and disappearing back into the crowd. 
“The period at the end of that last text almost convinced us,” she says as she takes her seat beside you. “But I new your little crush on Jay wouldn’t let you miss a chance to see him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
Chaewon rolls her eyes, backing a shot before leaning over you to get closer to Yunjin. “She’s pretending again.” 
With a scoff, Yunjin unlocks her phone and pulls up her camera roll to an album titled with an unfortunately cute ship name. “I can’t stop thinki–” You cut her off, snatching the phone from her hands and placing it under your thigh. 
“Okay, okay,” you relent, letting your head fall back as you groan. “I may have had a.. thing for him last semester but I’m over it now.” 
“Do you think he’ll swipe up if I post a song he likes?” Chaewon reads between laughs. 
Flustered, you sink into your seat after hearing the text that you sent two nights ago, hoping with all your might that the booth will open up to swallow you whole. 
To your utter devastation, it does not. 
The universe chooses to soothe you in a different way by sending an angel Kazuha to drag you all out onto the dance floor. With intertwined hands, the four of you “excuse me” and “sorry” your way over to where Sakura and her friend Mark are dancing a little closer than usual with one another. 
His hands are on her hips as he holds her back to his front, the two of them grinding to the music, but she’s quick to smack his hands off of her and break away from him when she sees you guys approaching. Using a hand to push hair out of her face, Sakura laughs at nothing, smacking Mark’s chest playfully while he glues his eyes to the floor. 
“We missed you at pres,” you say, wrapping her in a hug. 
“Right, sorry, Mark had a thing at his place!” 
Despite understanding why she does, you ignore Chaewon when she nudges you at the mention of Mark and his place before hugging him too, agreeing when he says that you guys should come next time. 
The six of you form a circle after greeting one another, jumping around while yelling obnoxiously to the music blaring into your ears. Over Mark’s shoulder, you see Jay nodding at a friend before leaving the clu—“I’m actually gonna go get some air,” you blurt out. “Alone!” you add before Yunjin can offer to come with. 
Despite the way the breeze nips at your legs, the fresh air is a welcome slap in the face when it hits you; the previously ear-splitting music reduced to a pathetic mumble now that you’re outside. A few girls that you recognise from some of your classes stand opposite the, now short, entry queue, waving you towards them and blowing cigarette smoke over their shoulders. You shake your head when they offer you a draw, though (against your better judgement) you do accept a few hits of a polar menthol flavoured juul while chatting distractedly about your “new spot” on the hockey team and trying to find Jay — which doesn’t take you very long.
Not too far from where you’re standing, he leans against the building’s grey brick while looking at his phone. Its OLED display casts a slight glow over his features, showing off the crease of his brow, the slope of his nose, and the tiny little pout set on his lips as he types. 
You can’t help but stare as Jimin and Minjeong plan the rest of their night, which includes afters at Yizhuo’s if she doesn’t pass out, and extend an invitation to you and your friends — “I mean, we’re still gonna go. She’ll probably need us more if she does,” Minjeong says, stubbing out a cigarette under her shoe before both girls head inside. 
Waving goodbye, you let yourself find Jay again and take a deep breath. For a moment, you attempt to strategise in the way you and the girls always do together. A few possibilities play out in your head and right when you think you’ve found a good opener—“Hello!” You find yourself saying as you stumble walk over to him.
As you’ve come to expect, his mouth curves into a smile when he looks up at you. “Hello,” he says, laughing through the word. In the short time it takes you to reach him, and lean about an arm’s length away on the same wall, he slips his phone into his jacket pocket. “Since when are you a hockey girl?” 
With a smile of your own, you roll up your left sleeve to refer to a watch that you’re not wearing. “It’s been a few hours.”
Jay’s teeth press down on his bottom lip as he chuckles, before mumbling an apology and pulling his phone back out. You don’t mean to peek at his screen when he opens the messages app, but you do anyway. And can’t help but feel bad at the sight of your name at the top of the second message thread — the memory of Yunjin taking your phone so you couldn’t text back forcing your stomach to turn a little. 
Lifting your gaze back up to him, you sort of hate how pretty he looks as he ruffles his hair before putting his phone back in his pock—You turn your head immediately, finding sudden interest in the lamp post that irregularly flickers a pale yellow over his shoulder. For a split second, it seems like you managed to stare at him without being caught, but if the little laugh he lets out is anything to go by, your neck jerk wasn’t as subtle as you’d hoped. 
“You’re cute,” he grins, stepping a little closer. “It suits you.”
It’s a struggle to backtrack and remember what the two of you were even talking about as the faint scent of his cologne hits your nostrils. “F-field hockey?” you offer. 
“The jacket,” he clarifies, a sweet laugh slipping past his lips as he speaks. 
“Ohh, you too.”
He cocks his head to the side. “You think this suits me?” 
His hand comes to one side of his denim jacket, holding it out slightly and allowing you to catch a proper whiff of his cologne and a glimpse of his bare shoulder. You worry a little about what might come out of your mouth if you open it, deciding for everyone’s sake just to nod and pray that he’ll leave the damn jacket alone. 
“It’d probably look better on you.” 
An audible smile tugs at your lips. “No way.” You shake your head, trying and failing to keep your giggles to yourself.
“You wanna prove me wrong?”
With a tilt of your head, you turn the offer around in your mind; a pros and cons list starting to take shape. 
Pros: getting to wear Jay’s jacket, having an almost permanent reason to keep chatting with him throughout the night, and getting to see Jay in a vest — arguably the biggest pro of them all, given the amount of IG stories he’s posted in the gym recently.
Con: losing free drinks privileges; which doesn’t really seem like a huge deal because Chaewon can just wear the hockey jacket and get drinks for you like she’s been doing for half of the night so far. 
Under the weight of Jay’s stare, you shift on your feet, realising that he’s clearing his throat for the second time since he stopped speaking and you still haven't said anything. “But then I’d have to pay for my drinks,” you say in an attempt not to seem too eager. The words slur a bit on their way out, though you’re too caught up in the way Jay’s lips tug into a grin to fuss over it. 
“Not if you stick wi—” He stops short, cut off by a voice from a few metres away. “Jongsaaaaaaeeeeeeng!” it yells. And if not for his silver head of hair, you’d never have believed it was Park Sunghoon screaming like that. 
“Poor guy kept icing himself,” Lee Heeseung calmly explains, walking ahead of Sunghoon and, what looks like, Sim Jake who’ve been giggling with one another since the cry left the younger’s mouth. 
Despite not knowing Sunghoon very well, from what you’ve heard about him, it’s easy to imagine him hiding bottles of Smirnoff Ice to ice one of his friends, only to lose track of where he’d put them and find them himself later on, thinking one of his friends was icing him. The thought makes you stifle your laughter; you like the fact that Jay laughs too. 
Before dapping Jay up, Heeseung offers him the confiscated Smirnoff Ice that Sunghoon had made quite a dent in, only shrugging when he declines. Jay watches as his friend wraps an arm around your shoulder in a polite side hug while asking if you want to finish the “smice”. You let a beat pass before telling him that you’ll think about it. 
For a while, you listen as he fills Jay in on what he missed at pres, smiling at Jake and Sunghoon as they get closer, and wondering when it would be appropriate if at all, to introduce yourself to the three boys that you’ve only ever walked by at parties or on campus. You find a window when the two arrive, waving a little when you tell them your name. 
Jake’s lips curve into what looks like a smirk as he looks over at you. “We know,” he says, eyes darting quickly over to Jay before looking back at you.
Sunghoon says nothing. 
The boys are quick to get back to their conversation, and Heeseung glances in Jay’s direction, nodding his head before making a show of unscrewing the cap on the smice and skying it. After an impressive chug, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, holding up the empty bottle like a trophy before putting it in the bin. 
With a slight frown, you realise that you didn’t even get to tell him that you didn’t want it. 
There’s a grin on his face as he wraps his arms around Jake and Sunghoon’s shoulders. “See you guys in there!” he says before guiding the two boys away and into the club.
With the two of you on your own again, you become hyperaware of your proximity, of the fact that if you moved your hand even a centimetre it would brush his. The heat from his body is dizzying, and with his body leaning down towards you, Jay is already watching you when you look up at him. His lips rest in a small smile that only widens at the sight of your face, seeming unbothered that you’d caught him staring. That it wouldn’t take much to bridge the gap between your faces. Between your lips.  
“The offer still stands,” he says. “To wear my jacket and drink for free.” 
A somewhat familiar 808 beat rattles through tinny speakers in the student union.Jay’s jacket fits pretty big over your shoulders as you try not to say anything ridiculous while he holds your hand, leading you through the crowd. Now that your hands are actually clasped, the butterflies you’d felt over having linked fingers for a pinky promise seem silly, completely eclipsed by the feeling of your heart clattering against your ribs. After every few steps, he looks over his shoulder at you, your cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each smile he throws your way.
Upon your return to the booth, you drop the team jacket in Chaewon’s lap, praying that your friends won’t say anything about Jay or the fact that you’re wearing his jacket — or the fact that despite having reached your friends safely the two of you are still holding hands. By the looks of things it seems as though telling her to move up isn’t enough of a signal to her that you’d like to sit down; though maybe she’s just too busy trying to shrug the jacket back on to move up. You tell yourself that she’s just too busy trying to shrug the jacket back on to move up. 
Chaewon wears a wicked grin on her face, making no effort to be discreet about staring at your intertwined fingers. “YN? Why aren’t you dancing? You love this song!” she says, opening her mouth to wink obnoxiously at you and nudging Yunjin.
“I don’t know this song,” you say, liking the way Jay laughs beside you, squeezing your hand a little. 
For reasons unbeknownst to you, Yunjin sees this as the best opportunity to chime in, tilting her head before saying, “Whaaaaaaat? This is your favourite song! Trust me, Jay, she loves this song!” 
“And she’s such a good dancer,” Chaewon adds. “Have you seen her dance, Jay?” 
You stand around dumbly, mouthing the word “stop,” at your friends and leaning up towards Jay when he leans down to you. “How about a drink?” he asks with a voice as smooth as velvet, soft lips grazing the shell of your ear. 
“Please.” 
After telling the girls that you’ll be back, and flipping them off with your free hand, you let Jay lead you back through the dance floor to the bar, letting an elbow rest on its surface. When you look at him, he’s watching you, his lips quirked up ever so slightly while he does so. 
Letting your nails drum against the bar, you smile back. “Sorry about my friends,” you say, unsure as to why you’re apologising but feeling like it’s the right thing to say. 
“Sorry about your friends?” Jay asks. He grins. “Sorry about mine.”
You want to tell him that you liked his friends, that they seemed nice. Even though Sunghoon didn’t speak, and Heeseung finished the drink he offered you before you even had a chance to let him know that you wanted it. But he’s already distracted. 
His eyes scan the bottles that line the shelves behind the bar, and you busy yourself doing the same thing, the sight of almost every rum brand bringing up memories of past nights out with your friends. Two palm trees on a white bottle of “MarkLeebu” leave you suppressing your laughter as you think about Sakura’s friend falling asleep - standing up - against the wall of a club after drinking two bottles of Malibu to himself on a dare. 
Jay’s breath fans your ear when he speaks, “What are you having?” 
“A jäger bomb.” 
With a nod, he orders your drink and a whiskey for himself, and as per his suggestion, the two of you toast “to third year” before drinking. 
Jay makes good on his promise. One shot becomes two becomes three, and a cocktail in a comically large pitcher before you wake up the next morning to Sakura hogging the duvet, and no memory of anything beyond sitting down at the bar. 
While lying on your back you curse two versions of yourself: the first for leaving the window open before you left, and the second for having so much to drink. Staring up at the ceiling, you attempt to go over your interactions with Jay using a fine-tooth comb to figure out just how badly you humiliated yourself last night. Given the fact that you don’t remember what happened after 1 a.m. (or so), this doesn’t take too long, and the corners of your lips quirk up into a smile as you think about the way his hand felt in yours. 
Your memory tells you that he smiled a lot, but this seems like an insignificant detail because Jay always smiles a lot. There was a pitcher. A big one. Inside it was a vibrant, sweet, too cheap to be true cocktail that you sipped, blinked, and opened your eyes to find yourself in bed. The unaccounted-for period fills you with a visceral sense of dread, leaving you unsure if you shiver because of the temperature in your room or out of sheer embarrassment. 
The notifications you find on your phone only make you feel more nervous, so you cover your eyes with your hand before checking them. You were mentioned in Chaewon’s Instagram story (which means you behaved catastrophically), and you have a text from Jay (which .. well you’re not quite sure what to make of this). Through the gap in your fingers, you start by looking at the story, uncontrollable butterflies in your stomach from what you see. A picture (on close friends) of you sitting in Jay’s lap with his arms wrapped around your wairs, and his chin resting on your shoulder; the two of you donning wide grins with THESE TWOOOOOOO 😍😍😍 written over it. 
Jay’s text is simple yet sweet: hope u got home okay, was realy nice getting to chill w u again &lt;3. You don’t even realise that you’re giggling until Sakura stirs next to you. 
you: i did thank uuuuuuu
you: sorry if i was weird though haha 
You say. Although all things considered, you can’t really think of anything to be haha-ing about but Jay’s reply comes so quickly that you barely have the time to dwell on this fact. “Nahhhh you were so cute dw,” he texts back. 
With your stomach doing somersaults, you turn over in the bed, burying your head in the pillow to muffle a squeal.
Sakura wakes up. 
While in the shower, you let the water hit you directly in the face for a bit with your eyes screwed tightly shut under the stream. And not a single thought occurs to you other than how cute Jay seems to think you are. 
jay: do you have class today
you: slept in
jay: L
jay: for me.. i wanted to see you again  
Your jaw falls open as you read the message, and over your shoulder, Yunjin lets out the gasp that you hadn’t been able to. “Oh, my God!” she says, watching as a cheek-aching smile creeps up on your lips. A small celebration ensues while the two of you squeal and kick your feet like children. And then your phone vibrates again.
jay: could still link if ur down?
jay: hold up 
Yunjin pulls air through her teeth. “Could still link if you’re down,” she reads before taking the phone from your hand. “Fuckboy text, ignore.” 
Knowing you’re not likely to win the argument that Jay’s not a fuckboy — even though he’s not one, you think — you roll your eyes. “So what if he’s a fuckboy?” you frown, pulling your knees to your chest. 
“If a fuckboy was supposed to be liked he’d be called a like boy,” Yunjin says as if reciting scripture. “Text Jaemin back if you want a fuckboy.” 
You don’t mean to groan out loud at her tone. “Jaemin’s not a fuckboy, he’s just.. a guy. Who.. likes to fuck.” 
The sound of the front door opening prompts you to pause the TV, and the two of you crane your necks towards the open doorway to hear what’s going on. It’s Chaewon giggling loudly before speaking. 
“Thanks for bringing me home.” 
A deep chuckle sounds through the hall. Jeno. Of course. “You’re my girl,” he says and his smile is audible through his words. “Why wouldn’t I?” 
Chaewon giggles at this too, and, pressing play on the remote, you share a look with Yunjin as you hear the beginning of a wet kiss. Brooklyn Nine-Nine gets through an entire cold open and the theme song before she – looking fresher than ever in her boyfriend’s sweatpants – joins you both on the couch. 
“What’d I miss?” she asks. 
“Yunjin thinks Jay’s a fuckboy.” 
Chaewon lets out a snort. “Well, yeah, anyone could’ve told you that, dude’s best friend is Lee Heeseung,” she says, though quickly changes her tune as if remembering her audience. “It’s all just rumours though, people see a good-looking guy who’s overly friendly and flirts with everybody, and posts obvious thirst traps to his Snapchat story, and just assume he’s a fuck boy..” she trails off, sinking a little in her seat.
Somewhat disheartened, you nod your head. “Right.” 
“So what did I miss?” Chaewon asks again, pointing at the TV this time. 
Still in Yunjin’s custody, your phone vibrates in her lap and she gasps as she reads the screen. “A reformed fuck boy?” she says, holding the phone up for you and Chaewon to read. 
jay: would you like to hang out with me later? 
You grin despite yourself, reading the message and reading it again before telling him “yes”, and later can’t come soon enough. The time slips by like molasses and you finally meet up with Jay -four decades- two hours later, with no set plan, at the library where he approaches you with Jake and a smile on his face. 
Friendly as ever, Jake chats with you and keeps a pretty smile on his lips the whole time. “If you ever have a hard time with physics or math based classes, I’ve got you,” he offers, clearly happy to hear that you’re in STEM too. 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tell him, grateful as you remember the tears you’d shed over a Construction Mathematics lecture last year. 
With a wave, Jake leaves the two of you alone, saying “See you later” before walking away. He excitedly glances over his shoulder to where you stand with Jay a few times. 
After telling you that he “knows a spot,” Jay takes you on a bit of a walk, successfully distracting you from the distance by keeping you talking. He listens enthusiastically while you ramble about a show you started, and you like the feeling in your chest when he says he’ll check it out. 
With a “ta-da,” Jay extends an arm to the gate in front of you. A play park. “We’re here!” he says, struggling to mask the excitement in his voice as he walks towards the empty play area. “It’s no fun when there’s kids here so I brought us the long way.” 
As you follow him through the gate, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous. The last time you’d been sober at a play park you were probably 15 or so, cutting through the park on your walk home from school with your friends. You’d spin the roundabout at lightspeed cackling at the screams of terror coming from those sitting on it, and talk about your crushes while calming down on the swings. 
Jay sits on one of the swings and watches you, and even though you’re not too sure what to talk about, you’re pretty sure confessing your crush on him as you sit next to him might send him running in the opposite direction. Instead, you clear your throat and look over at him. “So your “spot” is a play park?” you ask, using your feet to rock you back and forth. 
He pulls air through his teeth, scrunching his nose and tilting his head. “Would you prefer it if I took you to CP in the Sky?” 
If Jay had his car with him, you might have hoped for that. Most of the boys in your city who drive, including Jaemin, have been known to take girls to a spot they know. Super quiet, private, and almost as pretty as you, they’ll say, and take you up to ‘Car Park in the Sky’; the city’s most notorious hook-up spot. Though, Jaemin hadn’t exactly been secretive about wanting to hook up and actually only drove there after you’d told him about it. 
You shake your head. “The park is good, it’s great.” 
Conversation ebbs and flows between the two of you, the sounds of nature and the swings creaking keeping you company. It’s nice spending time with Jay like this. Sober. And not holed up in the library or a cafe with assignments and deadlines on your mind. 
You don’t mean to gain momentum but you do, swinging about as high as you can, gasping when you see a car over the top of a climbing frame. 
“What is it?” he asks, laughing to himself when you jump off the swing. 
“I wanna take a drive!” you call out over your shoulder, jogging over to the wooden stationary car you saw.
Jay’s footsteps sound after yours, and he grabs you by the wrist before you climb into the driver’s side. “Did you get your licence yet?” 
You shake your head, watching as his mouth falls open, bracing yourself for a lecture on how a girl of your age should be driving already. 
He looks aghast, in genuine distress before he speaks. “What makes you think I’m gonna let you drive?” Jay nods his head to the other side of the car. “Go.” 
Letting out the most exaggerated sigh you can manage, you comply, dragging your feet to the passenger side and climbing in. Jay follows suit, sitting down next to you on the small connected seat built with kids in mind, and his thigh presses up against yours. 
“Don’t be upset, everyone knows passenger princess is way more fun than actually driving.” 
And rationally, you know he’s not specifically calling you a princess but your tummy turns nonetheless. 
“Whatever,” you mumble, faking a sigh and struggling to suppress your laughter when he buckles a fake seat belt. Jay gives you a disapproving look when you don’t move to do the same. “Are you serious?” 
“As a heart attack,” he says solemnly, though you can see the smile teasing at his lips. “Better safe than sorry, that’s what I always say.” 
There’s nothing behind his words, no hidden meaning but you read into them anyway, hoping he can’t hear the way you gulp at the thought that plagues you. For some reason, you’ve chosen this hill to die on, shrugging at him and turning to look straight ahead. 
Jay sighs dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose before leaning over you to grab your ‘seat belt’ and buckle in by himself. He takes his time though, and the way he looks you dead in the eye makes you wish you’d just done it yourself. His face is close to yours, his breath warm against your skin, creating a welcome contrast to the cold air around you. He lingers for a beat before sitting up straight and clicking the belt into place. 
“Finally,” he whispers, putting an imaginary gear stick into reverse and draping his arm over the back of your connected seat. You can’t help but watch as he looks over your shoulders before moving the car, liking the way his side profile looks under the rapidly setting sun. Something stops him, he looks at you. “I can’t focus with you staring at me like that,” he says, taking his hand from the wheel to touch your cheek.
Your breath catches in your throat. Jay grins, gently turning your face away from him. You stare over at the roundabout and feel just as dizzy as you would have if you’d taken him up on his offer to spin you on it. 
Jay gets on with all the necessary checks before ‘starting’ the car and ‘driving’ off. “What are you thinking about?” 
It probably wouldn’t be appropriate to tell him that you’re thinking about the way it felt when he put his fingers to your cheek. Or how gentle he was with you, only pushing you a little bit and then guiding you the rest of the way. So you keep that to yourself. “The movies.” 
You hear Jay chuckling next to you. “All of them?” 
“Yeah,” you nod. “The drive-in kind. Have you been?” 
“I went once.” 
You gasp, excited. “Really? What did you see?” 
Jay thinks about it for a while. He thinks about it really hard before shaking his head, “You know, I don’t think I was paying much attention.” 
“You spent all that money on a ticket and didn’t even pay attention? What were you doing?” The words rush out before you can stop them and you cringe a little thinking about the possible answers. 
He turns his gaze back out on the road. “Sleeping,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. 
You wish you could go back in time to stop yourself from asking, finding an answer to the question: “Is it better to speak or to die?” 
“Hey, we can go to the drive-in right now! I just need to put this thing in park and we can watch any movie you want!” he says, stopping the car and turning as much as he can in his seat to face you. “Any movie that’s available with a Netflix subscription!” he adds, smiling when you do. 
Cramped together in the front seat of the stationary car, the two of you watch The Devil Wears Prada and get about halfway through before Jay’s phone hits 10% — and it’s probably the best movie watching experience you’ve ever had.  
You take Jay up on his offer to walk you home, and he chats with you about the movie, telling you how much he thinks it totally blows that Miranda Priestly isn’t a real person that he can work for after graduation, but he seems happy enough when you suggest that he could become Miranda Priestly.  
Reaching the familiar crossing by the student union, you look up at him. “If it’s easier, you can just head your way from here. I can literally see my building,” you offer, feeling bad about him walking so far out of his way. 
Jay scoffs like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “I’m not gonna make you walk by yourself.” 
“It’s barely five minutes,” you tell him, shaking your head. “You don’t have to.” 
“YN?” 
“Hm?”
A pretty smile spreads across his lips. “I want to, let’s go.” And Jay hardly gets to start telling you about his upcoming mock trial before you reach your flat. 
“This is me,” you say, pointing at the door to your building. 
He lets out a dry chuckle. “You’re kidding.”
You shake your head. He frowns, looking terribly cute with his lips turned down like that. Though it doesn’t last for long and he raises his brows when you gasp. “You know, we came from a place I’ve never been before, and I’m starting to think this might be the wrong street,” you say, struck by the sudden realisation. “We should probably walk around the block a couple more times, just to really be sure.” 
Listening to your words, Jay beams at you and it’s heavenly. “I heard it can actually take, like, 4 or 5 walks around the block if you want 100% certainty.” 
“Oh yeah,” you giggle. “I think I’ve heard that too. Should we make it 6?” 
“Perfect.” 
To your surprise, you’d both been wrong. As it would turn out, the required number of, very slow, walks around a student housing complex to be 100% sure, completely beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re at the right place is ten.
“Hey, uh, how about we do one more lap? Just to make sure? For the absolute best measure,” Jay suggests, eyes twinkling under the streetlamp. He almost looks a little nervous, burying his hands in his pockets as he watches you. 
“Sounds good.”
Just like your last few walks around the student housing block, fallen leaves rustle under your footsteps, and the back of Jay’s hand still brushes against yours, but this time feels different. Maybe because there’s a finality to this; the last lap. You couldn’t possibly ask him to spend any more time walking around here. Could you? 
“This neighbourhood is so cute, all the student apartments clustered together like this, I love it,” he says, looking over at you.
“It’s nice knowing that some of my friends, and the people I like partying with, live so close, but it’s always so noisy around here,” you tell him, continuing when he doesn’t speak. “‘Cause it’s all just a bunch of 18–20–somethings that live here, and The U’s just down the street. The noise is fun when I’m part of it, but when I’m studying or just trying to sleep it’s annoying.” 
“Don’t you think it’s kinda cool though? There’s always something happening. So even if the girls aren’t down to go out, you’re not exactly short on plans.”
You’d never really thought of it like that. Probably because Yunjin is always down to go out. But you like the way he puts it. You nod, reminded of your classmates who live in the building right next to where you’re walking. “Yeah, I should probably text Minjeong more.” 
“And if not you can always hit me and see what I’m doing,” he says at the same time. 
You stop walking, and your heart — feels like it — stops beating. 
Jay, noticing this, stands in front of you, hands help up defensively as he shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that, obviously. I just thought it’d be cool if you weren’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, maybe we could link and do nothing together,” he explains. “I’m stupid, sorry.”
This might be the first time you’ve ever heard Jay ramble like this, and your heart does a twirl just seeing his worried expression. “I think if I’m not doing anything, and you’re not doing anything, then it’d be cool for us to link and do nothing together, Jay,” you smile, liking the way he visibly relaxes, his shoulders falling slightly and an exhale curling out of his mouth and into the air.
“Cool.” 
When, for the 11th time, you reach your building, you turn to Jay and hesitate a little, unsure of what to say. Glancing at him, it looks as though he’s feeling the same way. A silence falls over the two of you. 
Finally, Jay speaks. “Goodnight,” he says, pulling you into a hug. 
Despite your surprise, you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him close. You hope he can’t feel the way your heart is racing. Or the way it starts to pick up when you catch a whiff of his scent. Warm and cosy, tempting in a strange way that you can’t quite put your finger on but you like all the same. 
When Jay lets go of you, you look up at him almost instinctively. You don’t mean to stare at his lips but you do, gulping at how close they are. You want to kiss him. Not any more than usual, but the urge is there. “Goodnight,” you say, taking a step back and walking up the path to the door.
Using your key fob, you unlock the door, turning to look over your shoulder and thankfully finding Jay still standing there, watching you with a stomach-turning smile on his face. “I had a really nice time tonight,” you say, smiling back. 
“Yeah?”
You nod. “We should hang out more.”
“I think so too.” 
“Cool,” you smile, biting your lip. “Goodnight, Jay.” 
“Goodnight, YN.” 
“Could you, text me? When you get home, so I know you’re, like, safe.” 
Jay beams at you, nodding his head. “Of course.” 
After a week (eleven days) of texting and hanging out with Jay when you can, you find yourself spending 3 hours of your Friday afternoon taking notes in your Sustainable Development lecture, and coming to the realisation that none of the course content is relevant to the report you’re trying to get through. 
Seeing Jay leaning on the wall outside your class when you leave is a welcome surprise; he wears a thin pair of glasses and a smile that makes your heart stutter a bit as he stands up straighter, greeting you when he sees you and quickly falling into your step. “I meant to ask you earlier, are you going to the game on Saturday?” A beat passes. “Football,” he clarifies. “First home game of the season.” 
“Maybe if my friends are going.” 
Jay seems to think about this for a moment as you round the corner at the end of the corridor and he holds the door to the stairwell open. “After you.” 
You mumble a thank you and count six steps before he speaks again. 
“I’m going,” Jay informs you, his hand meeting the back of his neck to scratch awkwardly at it. “I mean, I’m gonna be on the pitch but.. I’ll be there.” 
A breathy laugh slips from your lips at this added information; how sweet of the football team’s captain to let you know that he’ll be at his team’s football game on Saturday. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
“I just think it’d be cool to see a friendly face in the crowd when I score the winning goal.” 
Given Jay’s unending kindness, you imagine that most of the faces in the crowd — or at least the ones from your uni — will be friendly, especially if he scores the winning goal. The thought causes a smile to itch at your lips as you consider that maybe he means that it’d be cool to see your friendly face in the crowd. And who could say no to that? 
The rest of the conversation goes smoothly and Jay slows down when you reach the second floor. “I have some admin shit to work out, but I’ll see you at the game?” he asks, watching you with hopeful eyes and chewing on his bottom lip.
Knowing full well that you’ll be there, you pretend to think about it for a moment. “Maybe.”
Jay chuckles at this, tilting his head. “Please?” 
“Maybe,” you repeat, despite already planning your outfit. Did you wash your white shirt or will you be doing laundry tonight? You wave at Jay when he waves and make your way down the rest of the stairs while clicking mindlessly through Instagram stories. 
Nothing interests you until you reach IG user onyourm__ark's story; a picture of IG user 39saku_chan in his football jersey. You hit the like button and pretend to believe that the song choice (Infrunami by Steve Lacy) was made purely out of sheer enjoyment of the artist’s early work.
With a smile on your face, you text the group chat to solidify your weekend plans.
you: are u going to the football game tmrw
cw: not even if u paid me
yj: hard no
yj: i’m going to the party AFTER the game though
yj: why?
you: it’s nothing dw
cw: ???
you: jay invited me..
The chill of October’s first evening is unkind on your face as you sit amongst the rowdiness of drunk uni kids, cheering and groaning in unison as the game trudges on, and somehow Kazuha manages to sleep through it all with her head on your shoulder. 
“Fuuuuck,” Yunjin groans, shivering in the seat next to you. “I hate sports.” 
“Says the captain of the hockey team,” you say, voice coming out muffled behind the top of your jacket.
“Playing and watching are, like, completely different.” 
You’re sure Yunjin’s right, she has to be, but you have to admit that there’s something more than slightly entertaining about watching a group of boys chasing a ball around and yelling expletives at one another, all while number 99 keeps a huge grin on his face, laughing at his teammate’s temper. Or lack thereof. 
However, the novelty wears off at around 8:45 when the ref calls for half-time; a chill runs down your spine as you’re struck with the realisation that university football games are full-length. But other than Yunjin’s teasing, there’s no use pretending that you hate the sight of Jay lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
As the players retreat from the pitch and some students start to clear the stands, Yunjin gets up to stretch. She hums along to the song playing while you watch from your seat with aching knees, slightly envious and trying not to move too much and wake up Kazuha who sleeps soundly on your shoulder. 
With her arms above her head, Yunjin lets out a yawn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’d really rather be doing a reading for marketing than be here any longer.”
“And I’d rather be helping you out,” you say, frowning a little when Kazuha stirs. “Hey, what do you think they do during half-time?” you ask distractedly. 
She thinks about it for a beat, eyes flicking to the pitch before looking back to you. “We usually strategise, use the bathroom, get water — quick things like that,” she says, raking a hand through her hair, watching as you shift a little in your seat to get your phone from your pocket when it vibrates. “They have a lot longer than we do though.” 
jay: are you having fun?
you: yeah you guys are great, good game so far :)
Yunjin scrunches up her nose as she reads the exchange. “God, you’re so boring,” she sighs, taking the phone from your hands, and typing something before showing the screen to you. 
“We should link at the party later,” you read, scoffing as you take it back and delete the message. “I’d never say that.” In those words. 
jay: hahaha i think you might be my good luck charm 
A dramatic gasp comes from a now-awake Kazuha. “Don’t reply!” 
You heed this advice, joining her as she stands up to stretch as well. 
“Look how much fun they’re having,” Kazuha sighs, pointing over at Sakura and Chaewon in their seats close to the pitch. They dance along to the music blaring through the speakers and laugh so loudly you can hear them despite their distance. “Why didn’t we join them?” 
You think about it for a bit, filled with regret. “At the time, pregaming before the game and then pregaming again before the party seemed intense but..” you trail off, watching your friends clutch their stomachs in laughter. “Next time.” 
“Next time,” Kazuha repeats, slouching in her seat. “I’m clearing your drink supply when we get back.” There’s a frown on her face when she speaks but she’s quick to perk up at the sound of your text tone, grabbing the phone for herself. 
jay: are you coming tn? got a feeling that congrats will be in order
you (technically kazuha): wouldn’t miss it !!! 
“Three exclamation points? I’m not that desperate,” you say defensively, nudging her in the ribs. 
As if on cue, Yunjin reads another text. “I saw his notes again, his handwriting is so cute and ugly, agh I’m literally clutching my chest, he’s perfect,” she says, her voice high-pitched and mocking. 
Hearing your typed words out loud from someone else’s mouth is troubling, especially because “It never seems that bad when I’m typing,” you frown, immediately checking your phone when it goes off. 
jay: awesome :) see u there 
jay: !!!
The game’s second half goes by much quicker and in the end, they lose 5-3, leaving you and Yunjin struggling to keep your laughter to yourselves at the sight of the FIRST W OF THE SEASON banner hanging up in the living room of the house that most of the footballers share. With linked arms, the two of you make your way to the kitchen to get something to drink. Already feeling the buzz from pregaming, you settle on a cup of lemonade which Yunjin rolls her eyes at. 
“Shut up,” you say, eyeing her over the rim of your cup. 
Yunjin holds her hands up defensively, spilling a few drops of her tequila-vodka concoction. “I didn’t even say anything.” For a couple of minutes, you pretend to listen as Yunjin tries to come up with a game plan for the night, nodding and humming along when she pauses, and trying to decipher the animal code names she’s using. A gasp. “I see him! Black cat and penguin sitting out on the half wall.” 
You watch as she leans over the sink to get a closer look out of the window. “I feel like saying exactly where they are makes the code names redundant.” 
“I feel like you’re redundant.” A beat passes. “Just be yourself, and if he says something funny, laugh and put your hand on his bicep while you do.” 
“Noted.”
Yunjin doesn’t let you go outside without taking a sip (or three) of the poison in her cup, and after you gag over the sink, the two of you make your way into the garden, sights set on the half wall where “black cat” now sits alone. A potent mixture of the scent of tobacco and weed hits you the second you open the back door, and the two of you leave the house to make a beeline to Jay, apparently to Yunjin’s displeasure, given the way she asks you three times to play beer pong with her when some of the basketball boys start setting up cups for the next round.
“No,” you say. Three times. 
As if sensing your presence, Jay whips his head around right before the two of you reach him, a bright smile gracing his face as he waves at you with his whole arm. He seems to glow against the darkness of the night, bright, dreamy, an unreal quality that leaves you feeling fuzzy around the edges. Jay, you think, over and over and it starts to sound made up. Jay. Jay. Jay. Until you reach him. He stands up when you guys are close enough. “You’re here,” Jay says with a smile, pulling you into a hug. With his arms around your waist, his hold is somehow both tight and gentle. Secure. Safe. 
“Hey,” you say, voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. A whiff of his scent hits you, flooding your senses. Fresh, citrusy, and undeniably Jay. A dizzying combination, so light, and distinctly him in a way that makes your heart beat a bit faster. 
When Jay lets go of you to hug Yunjin, you take the last sip of your drink and almost wish you’d taken her cup instead; your lemonade is sweet to the tongue but does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence. You watch as they greet each other while Jay sits back down. Standing in front of him with your arm against Yunjin’s, you feel as though you've missed the window to sit down too and opt to continue standing next to her. 
“We like your banner,” you say, pointing in the direction of the house behind him. 
Following your finger, Jay lets his head whip around towards the back of the house. Yunjin uses the time he spends looking over his shoulder to nudge you, nod her head in his direction, and mouth the word “sit” at you. So you do.
If he’s surprised to turn back around barely a second later and find you right beside him, Jay doesn’t show it. He gives you a warm smile and knocks his knee against yours before speaking. “What, first w of the season?” He tilts his head. “And here I thought you were a good luck charm, twenty,” he says with a chuckle when you nod. 
Yunjin’s brows raise, and you feel yours rise too. “Twenty?” she asks. 
“The hockey jacket,” he answers without missing a beat. “Speaking of, when’s your next game?” 
“Oh, we’re playing the Foxes next week,” Yunjin rakes a hand through her hair. “TDU, you know?” 
Jay nods, turning his attention back to you. “Can I look forward to seeing you on the field, twenty?” 
Tilting your head, you pull air through your teeth. “You know what, I actually just got benched, like, right now,” you say, liking the way Jay laughs. “I’m out for the rest of the season.” 
After clapping a hand to his mouth, Jay points at you. “Did they get you on a drunk and disorderly after the mixer?” he asks through a laugh. 
In horror, you watch while Yunjin’s head falls back with laughter as she lets out cackles that only unsettle you. “That’s exactly what happened!”
“I was not.. disorderly,” you say meekly, finding sudden interest in the hem of your skirt.
It sounds as though Jay says: “You didn’t tell her how she got back home?” though you’re finding it difficult to focus on much other than trying to recover your missed hours after the hockey mixer. 
You’ve gone on countless nights out, spent many mornings after vowing never to drink again, and, on multiple occasions, have gotten too drunk to enter the club. But even then, in the past, your memory has only ever been.. spotty, nonlinear. Never completely void for hours at a time, and it’s concerning. After tonight, you really won’t drink again. 
Except on birthdays. 
And when you go to the club. Or to parties. Or when you’re bored with the girls. But again, apart from that? Never. 
“How did I g—” you start, though Yunjin cuts you off. 
“I think Zuha’s lifting her leg again, hold on,” she groans, looking over Jay’s shoulder at the glass doors leading to the kitchen. Yunjin disappears back into the house and it’s not until you watch her slide the back door shut behind her that you remember Kazuha having too much to drink at pres and having to stay in with Chaewon. 
When you look at Jay, he watches you with knitted brows. “Kazuha’s doing what?” he asks. 
“Ballet,” you explain. He nods. 
Neither of you speak for a moment. While you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help but wonder if you should’ve followed Yunjin, or if you should’ve had less to drink at the mixer. You reckon the fact that Jay’s still talking to you must mean you didn’t do anything that you can’t recover from, but you can’t shake the feeling that your trip home that night was less than pleasant. 
“Hey,” Jay says quietly, catching your attention with concern lacing his features. “What do you look so down for?” he asks. 
Though terrified of the answer, you repeat your earlier question. “How did I get home?” you ask, wondering if the Earth usually opened up to swallow people whole or if you’d have to put in a special request.
Jay licks his lips, using his hand to push your shoulder playfully. “I have no idea,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I was talking to Yunjin at the library on Tuesday, I think, and she told me you can’t remember anything. I just wanted to freak you out.” 
You feel heat under his touch and relief from his words, though something about him talking with Yunjin seems to jostle you slightly. “Yunjin was at the library?”
Briefly, what looks like disappointment flashes across Jay’s face, replaced quickly with a pretty smile, light, playful. “You care more about Yunjin being at the library than me asking your friend about you?” he asks.
“You were asking my friend about me?” 
“Yeah, I think you’re cute,” Jay says sweetly, smiling at you in a way that makes your cheeks burn even when you look down at your lap. 
There’s something about the way he says it, so casually as if telling you the time or today’s date, that throws you off. It doesn’t make any sense to you that some of the most vivid sensations that Jay makes you feel are just that: sensations. You know that your stomach doesn’t actually have butterflies in it and that your heart isn’t really twirling in your chest, but it sure feels like it. You wonder if he also feels like that sometimes. You earnestly hope that if he does, it’s because of you.
He seems nearer than before when you look at him, and for fear that you might kiss him if he gets any closer, you bring your empty cup to your lips, lean back a little, and pretend to sip. Its emptiness isn’t lost on Jay, however, who chuckles, asking if you want a refill. While walking towards the house, you listen as he tells you what the team normally get up to during half-time (mostly strategising and pretending not to hear Heeseung’s snores), and silently beg your cheeks to cool down. His hand is heavy on the small of your back as he ushers you inside first, sliding the door shut behind him, and gently pushing you towards the kitchen island. 
You let yourself lean against the counter, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach as you watch him reach for a visibly sticky bottle of your favourite drink without asking what you’d like. Though before actually touching it, his eyes widen. “Wait, I have something for you,” he says, holding out a hand for you to take. “Come on.” 
Jay weaves his fingers with yours, leading you through the house and up the stairs into a bedroom. He closes the door gently behind you, stepping over a couple of backpacks before sitting on the end of the bed, and tugging at the zipper on one of them. 
For a moment you watch as veins appear on his hands and have to physically tell yourself to drag your eyes to anything else, eventually settling on the walls. Walls that are covered in countless glossy 4x6 prints, some shots of landscapes, groups of people, out-of-focus beer bottles and.. “You have a lot of photos of Mark Lee in here,” you comment, scanning the room around you. “And it doesn’t look like you’re.. in any of them,” you continue as you notice a grainy polaroid stuck to the wall next to the light switch — a picture of Mark making out with his best friend, Sakura “give me a break, a boy and a girl can be just friends” Miyawaki, and make a mental note to bring it up later. 
Jay glances at you as if you’re the one sleeping in a Markkura shrine. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s his room,” he chuckles. “You can sit down, you know,” he adds after a beat, moving over a bit on the bed. 
With a nod, you look at some more of the pictures as you make your way over to the spot next to him, a photo of Mark and Jake with their middle fingers to the camera catching your eye. And holding it for so long that you trip a little over one of the backpacks before sitting down and pretending nothing happened. Thankfully, Jay doesn’t seem to notice. 
“It’s not much by the way, don’t get your hopes up,” he warns, his hand still hidden by the fabric of his bag. 
“Got it.” 
Despite his earlier disclaimer, he makes a show of the whole thing. “Ta-da!” His voice is a little singsong as he brings the obje—bottle of Smirnoff Ice into view. 
“Thank you?” The bottle is cold in your hands when you take it from him, reading the ABV 4% on its label and wondering how many of these Sunghoon must have had to drink to have been stumbling the way he was that night. You also can’t help but wonder what reason Jay has for buying you a bottle and then taking you into the privacy of Mark’s bedroom to give it to you.
“Yeah,” he trails off a little, letting his hand come up to scratch the back of his neck. “You looked pretty crushed the other night when Heeseung finished that one bottle.” 
You can’t help the scoff that comes out. “Crushed? I mean, I might’ve frowned.” 
“Frowned? You were near tears, I was worried about you.” 
“Shut up.” 
“I’m serious, every time I looked at you, you had this.. upset look on your face.” 
“Well, maybe you should stop looking at me so much.”
Jay’s eyes sparkle under the light, flicking back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he brings a hand up to your face, tucking some hair behind your ear, his fingers hot on your skin, unmoving. His eyes lock with yours. “Come on,” he says in a low voice. “You know there’s no stopping that.” 
A smile tugs at your lips. Jay bites his. His gaze drops back down to your mouth. Lingers. And in what almost seems like an alcohol-induced hallucination, he leans in. Slightly. As if testing the waters. As if waiting for a sign that you want him to stop. A sign that you want him to continue. Anything. His hand is heavy on your cheek when he cups it in his palm, skin rough against yours. 
Mere inches away, Jay’s lips seem more tempting than ever. Separated only by the distance of a breath and your nerves, you try to settle yourself. To put your heart at ease. But how could you relax when he looks at you like that; his gaze soft, tender, all of his attention on y—The bottle slips from your hands, cool against your thighs, reminding you of its existence. Jay flinches when you do. 
“Let’s have a drink!” you suggest, though the absence you feel when he takes his hand from your face makes you wish you hadn’t.
“Sure.”
The cap screws off the bottle with a few satisfying clicks, and Jay, amused, shakes his head when you offer him the first sip. “After you,” he says. 
Without a second thought, the bottle touches your lips and the sweet, sweet taste of Smirnoff Ice touches your tongue, coating your mouth and leaving you wishing the alcohol content was higher. 
“Do you mind if I put my lips on it?” he asks while you pass the drink to him. 
You shake your head, determined not to think of a double meaning, and watch as his lips connect with the bottle’s opening, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat while he drinks. When Jay pulls it from his mouth, he lets his tongue dart out to wet his lips. You wonder if it will taste different in his mouth, if his lips, wet from the drink, taste as sweet as they look. 
Now that you realise you’ve shared an indirect kiss, you kick yourself for passing up the chance at a direct one, deciding that if you want him to kiss you, you’ll need to get closer. Step up your game a little. Maybe you’ll say something about his necklace, ask to get a better look.. And hopefully, he’ll take the hint and kiss you because you’re not really sure what else you could say. 
Of course, you could opt to skip words altogether, taking his face in your hands, and pressing your lips to his. You’re sure that’s what Yunjin would do. And you’re sure that would be her advice to you if you asked her.
Jay hands the bottle back to you and you close it, determined to feel his lips on yours if it’s the last thing you do. And you quickly open the bottle again, one last sip for good luck. The soft laugh he lets out is breathy, and it’s hard to tell if the heat in your stomach is coming from the drink, or from the way you see him looking at you in your peripheral. 
His straight teeth bite at his bottom lip, and he shakes his head when you offer him another sip. This time when you close the bottle, you do it for good, setting the glass on the floor so it doesn’t interrupt you again. 
“I really like your necklace,” you say, off to a good start, following the plan. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.”
“Aw.. thanks,” he says, choosing now, of all times, to stop being a conversationalist. 
In the quiet of the room, you realise that you hadn’t planned anything beyond the compliment. You let your eyes focus back on the charm hanging from his neck, trying to picture him with a fishing rod in his hand, and wellington boots on his feet. It doesn’t really work. “I didn’t realise you were so into fishing,” you blurt out, and the way he knits his brows together makes you wish you’d just grabbed him and planted a kiss on the lips he purses to the side while watching you. 
“Me?” 
“Yeah you, with your cute little hook on a chain.” 
Jay squints at you. “Hook on a chain?” he repeats. 
You let a hand reach up and press on the hook pendant on his necklace. 
His shoulders rise and fall dramatically as he sighs, his hand coming up to wrap around yours, holding it to the base of his neck as the small (not) hook warms in your fist. “Why does everybody think it’s a hook?” 
“It isn’t?” 
“It’s the letter J.” He lets go of your hand to lift the charm. “See?” 
You squint your eyes, leaning a little closer to him, gaze fixed on the little gold hook letter sitting near the base of his neck. “Ohhhh, right,” you say, but even from a few inches away, it still looks like a hook, and from this close, you can hear the way his breath hitches in his throat.
With an inhale, you find yourself lingering. Sticking around just long enough to make out the woodier notes of his cologne before moving back a little. Finally, you draw your eyes away from his neck, wanting to meet his gaze but finding yourself stuck on his lips instead. They sit slightly ajar, pink, pretty, sort of chapped in the way they always seem to be. His breath tickles your forehead. You sit straighter, noticing the way his eyes burn holes into you. 
“Quit staring,” you mumble hypocritically. 
Jay’s brows quirk up for a split second as he sits back on his hands. “I’m not.”
“You are.” 
“Well, you’d have to be staring at me to know.” 
“Do you want me to stop staring?”
He seems to consider this for a second before shaking his head. “No,” he tells you. 
“What do you want then?” Your voice is soft when you ask. 
“I wanna kiss you.” 
Jay’s lips don’t move but you hear the word “really” being spoken out into the room like a question. Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and doesn’t fully register until Jay says: “Yeah,” so softly that it’s practically a whisper. 
Jay wants.. to kiss you. You feel your breath catch in your throat and it seems even more ridiculous to think it than to have heard it from him. To see his lips move to form the words. I wanna kiss you, he’d said. You’d heard it. You’d seen it. It happened. He wants.. to kiss you. 
“Do you want me to do that?” he asks, leaning in slightly, his hand rising to cup your cheek. Slower, gentler than last time. 
You let your gaze meet his; regret flooding you immediately. Just as kind and soft as the rest of him, Jay’s eyes stare into yours, warm, and inviting, but, still, you can’t shake off your nerves. More than anything, you want to say yes; to say of course, can’t you tell? but you don’t trust yourself enough to open your mouth and speak to him. Instead, you nod, so slightly that for a moment you wonder if he even noticed. And then, there, in the dim privacy of Mark Lee’s bedroom, while your heart beats out of your chest, Jay kisses you for the first time. 
His lips are warm against yours, the sweet taste of Smirnoff Ice only amplified as he holds you close. Soft, gentle, kissing Jay is everything you’d imagined it would be. You feel as though you might melt under his touch as his hand grabs your waist to pull you closer. So close that you’re nearly in his lap as he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving along yours.
It doesn’t feel real, it can’t be. 
As if thrown by your thoughts, Jay pulls away. While attempting to form a coherent thought, you catch your breath, once again, regretting looking at him. He looks down the bridge of his nose at you with half-lidded eyes, and his pretty, pink lips sit parted, wet and plump from kissing. Jay leans in almost immediately, the moment cut short by his lips on yours once again. 
It’s tangible this time; you couldn’t possibly make up the way his hand grips your ass or the way he groans softly when you whine into his mouth. He’s real, and he’s kissing you, and you only feel yourself growing dizzier, and dizzier the longer his lips move against yours. A gasp pulls you out of it and the two of you separate.
Looking in the direction of the now open door you see Sakura and Mark hand in hand. You can’t help the slight embarrassment that hits you at first, hating that, of all people, it had to be Mark to walk in and find you making out with someone on his bed. 
Though you get a bit distracted seeing him and Sakura like this, they look cute together. His football hoodie covers her form completely, much longer than the dress she has on, as she leans into him, and a giggle slips from her lips when he lets go of her hand to wrap an arm around her waist instead. 
Somewhat belatedly, and needlessly, Mark apologises, his eyes focused on you when he speaks but you can’t get the words out to respond to him. Jay chuckles at this, shaking his head and telling him not to worry about it as he stands up from the bed. You follow suit. Jay picks up your drink from the floor and takes you by the hand, telling Mark he’ll text him later while leading you out of the room. When you glance at Sakura, she’s grinning at you, mouthing: “Sorry,” before smacking your butt. 
Jay hands you the bottle when the door closes, his hand slipping out of yours. A beat passes. And then another. He chews at his bottom lip. You clear your throat and the silence continues. It’s a shame to be standing around like idiots on the landing like this, you think. 
“I..” he trails off, wiping his hands on his pants. He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I should get back to the boys.” 
Your heart sinks as you hesitate, unsure how to respond. Slowly, you nod. “Right, yeah,” you say.
“Later,” he mumbles, holding up his hand to wave stiffly at you before turning around to leave. 
Deflated, you lean against Mark’s door while you search for your phone to ask Yunjin where she is. Maybe if you’d waited for a moment, you’d have seen the way Jay stopped at the top of the stairs to look over at you, seen the frown on his face when he saw that you weren’t looking at him. But instead, you read 2 texts from Yunjin. 
yj: dude heso into u 
yj: flirt more = hv fun upstairs 
You spend the next three days pretending nothing happened at the party, avoiding Jay, and dreading going to uni. It’s just unfortunate that for you, pretending nothing happened looks like zoning out in the library while replaying the kiss in your head until your elbow slips off the desk. And avoiding Jay seems near impossible, given his tendency to show up everywhere. Or rather, your tendency to see Jay in everything. 
Like the tiny little black cat you saw perched on the fence outside your apartment building, and the busker singing Harry Styles in the city centre. And the half-full bottle of Smirnoff Ice from that night that sits on your dresser with your perfume and jewellery, displayed with about as much sentiment as a trophy won at school for a random achievement. 
Impulsively, you post a selfie to your Instagram story before hiding your phone under your pillow and leaving the room entirely, making yourself comfortable atop the kitchen counter and waiting for someone to come back home. 
Chaewon gets home first, and quickly, arriving with a groan as she shrugs her jacket off and shuts the door behind her. “I hate uni,” she mutters. “I hate studying, I ha— Hey.” She jumps a little when she sees you in the kitchen. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, where’ve you been hiding?” 
“My room.” 
She nods, leaning comfortably against the doorframe. “You’re not going out tonight, right?” 
You shake your head, amused by the look of relief that paints Chaewon’s features as she whispers thank God. “I’m gonna shower, and take a nap,” she informs you. “But when I wake up, it’s you, me, pizza, and whatever story Yunjin has from practice.” 
“Can’t wait,” you say sincerely, stepping down from the counter. 
With a wide smile on her face, she salutes you before dragging her feet to the bathroom. Completely endeared, you decide not to comment on the salute even though you think it’s sweet that she’s starting to copy her boyfriend. 
The sounds of student housing on a Wednesday evening seep in through the open window as you pour yourself a glass of water, unable to stop wondering if Jay saw your story; and what he thought about it if he did. Wondering if he’d notice that the picture was from Saturday night. 
Filling up your glass again, you take it to your room and pull your phone out of hiding. Along with a message from Yunjin telling you and Chaewon to order your food so it comes shortly after she gets home, you find that Jay hit like on your story. Then sent a reply ten minutes later saying: you’re sooo gorgeous.
With a smile on your face, you type out various forms of “thank you so much, you’re perfect,” before settling on a simple: thank uuu :D, and Jay’s response is immediate. 
jay: i don’t think i’ve said that before
jay: how prettty i think you are
The heat that rises to your cheeks is troubling, yet despite your best efforts, you can’t get it to pass. Especially not when you read and reread Jay’s message. You press your eyes shut, willing the heat to pass, willing the grin on your face to fade. Neither works, in fact, they only worsen when you open your eyes to see the new messages waiting for you in the chat. 
jay: it’s a lot bte 
jay: *btw 
You let out a romcom-worthy sigh, clutching the phone to your chest and laying down on the bed. A glow-in-the-dark sticker stares back at you from its spot on your ceiling, a single star that you’d won as a set of two at the arcade with Kazuha in December. The memory brings a smile to your face, even though you remember being a little annoyed after she turned down the other star when you tried giving it to her.
Another message from Jay makes your phone vibrate in your hands. 
jay: sorrry 
you: it’s okay 
You tell him. Even though you’re not sure what he’s apologising for. Just like before, Jay reads the message immediately though this time his reply never comes.
With Yunjin now home from practice, and freshly showered, you sit on the couch with your flatmates, talking and laughing over the sound of the TV for hours until Netflix asks if you’re still watching, and Yunjin’s passed out with her cold, wet hair on your shoulder.  
Pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, Chaewon retires to bed, whispering “Goodniiiiiiiiight,” in your ear before abandoning you. Tired as you are, a part of you feels bad about waking Yunjin so you decide to sit a while longer, moving the blanket from your lap to cover her up properly. But of course, this is the movement that wakes her up. 
In a soft voice, you tell her goodnight, standing up from the couch to stretch your arms above your head. 
“You never told me what happened on Saturday,” Yunjin says tiredly. “Kkura told me you and Jay were busy in Mark’s room.” 
The mention of his name takes you back to that night. Back to Jay and the way his lips felt against yours, the way his hand held your waist, and the way he’d ditched you outside Mark’s room. A pit forms in your stomach; and as if reading your mind, Yunjin asks if you’re okay.
You sit down on the other end of the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest and telling the story from top to bottom. After recounting the night in detail from after she left you guys alone, you find yourself hyperaware of the differences between you and Yunjin. For you, the highlight of Saturday night was Jay kissing you and then running away after. 
“Wait, Sakura and who?” she asks when you’re done. 
For Yunjin, the highlight of the story seems to be Mark’s presence. 
“Mark.” 
“She told me she went on her own, what were they doing?” 
Although you have some idea, you think it best to keep your knowledge to yourself. “They were looking for her phone,” you say, pleased to see that Yunjin accepts your answer and moves on. 
“So then what?”
“He texted me hey on Sunday morning, which I ignored, and then a couple hours ago he replied to my story and told me how pretty he thinks I am,” you say, pausing to take a breath. “Then ignored my response.” 
Yunjin sits silently, seeming to take in everything she’d just been told. Her eyes are focused on the TV screen ahead so you look over at it too. It had gone into standby mode, displaying nothing but an indistinct impression of the two of you. 
And the silence continues. 
In the TV’s cast, you can just about make out the way she tilts and then turns her head to look at you. “Maybe he’s just.. frazzled, or something, from being walked in on. How did you feel?” 
The answer takes a while to come up with because for you, the night exists in two parts — Before kissing Jay, and everything else that happened when you left the room. This whole time, you’ve been so focused on him leaving, that you’ve barely given any thought to how you felt when Sakura opened the door. Frazzled, you think. Probably the best word to use. Embarrassed suits a bit better though. 
“I was embarrassed about it, but only because it was Mark. If it had been you, or Chaewon, whoever, it would’ve been different because they’d walk in and go “oh sorry” or something and leave, but obviously, when it’s Mark going into his own room, he’s there for something, you know?” you explain, chewing at your bottom lip.
“Maybe that’s how he feels too.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t embarrassing enough to leave and never talk to him again.” 
Yunjin exhales heavily. “I want to be on your side, really, I do, but isn’t that kinda what you did?” she asks, her voice hesitant as she tilts her head. “He texted you the next day and you didn’t reply, what do you think he’s thinking about right now?” 
“He’s the one who said he should get back to the boys.”
“What if that’s just because he spoke first?” she suggests. “Obviously we don’t know what you would’ve said if you spoke first, because you didn’t, but I feel like you would’ve been like “I-I’m gonna get back to the girls” and ran away.” 
Always correct, Yunjin is your worst enemy and your best friend rolled into one. Oh, how you hate her. Well, she’s correct about the fact that you would have said the same thing. You think. You press your lips together in a straight line and sink into your seat. 
She sighs when you don’t speak. “Look, he talked to you today, and told you how pretty you are, which is a win, right?” 
You nod reluctantly. 
“So let’s celebrate that, celebrate the fact that you kissed Jay! Even better, the fact that he kissed you.” Yunjin pauses, for what you think is dramatic effect, before speaking again. “Just.. don’t sweat the small stuff, okay?” She stops again to yawn. “And text him back if he reaches out, or, text him first.” 
Leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, you brush your teeth, watching as Yunjin does the same, sitting on the edge of the tub with her eyes shut. While gargling mouthwash, you think about the conversation you’ve just had and decide to take matters into your own hands. By pleading with God to put Jay in front of you and have him tell you that he likes you back. 
Once again, the higher powers seem to be on your side. Kind of. Jay does end up in front of you to tell you that he likes you back. Kind of. But only after learning that you’ll have to start your report again; which, given that you’d only gotten through 800 of the required 4000 words, wasn't exactly criminal. It was an irritation that settled in you, mainly, as all of your research and the sources you’d found were now redundant in the face of such adversity. 
Nonetheless, with heavy feet, you leave the lecture hall, trying to come up with a way to fake your graduation ceremony next year so you can secretly drop out. You draw a blank and find Jay waiting in line at the vending machine near the library’s entrance. 
Even though you’d spoken with her on Tuesday night, here, today, on Friday afternoon, Yunjin’s words echo so clearly in your mind you almost want to peer over your shoulder to see if she’s there. You do. She isn’t. 
Your formerly heavy feet lead you right over to Jay, who greets you with a smile. “How’s the report coming?” he asks, his tone light, easygoing, and clearly oblivious to the fact that his question strikes you like a knife to the gut. 
The two of you shuffle forward slightly, now at the front of the queue. Waiting for your response, he punches E6 into the machine that rattles loudly, delivering his bottle of Lipton lemon. 
“Not great,” you tell him, feigning nonchalance and watching as he presses E4 before squatting down to collect both drinks. “Are you heading to class?” 
Standing up straight, Jay holds out the new(er) bottle of Lipton peach towards you. “What happened?” 
Holding the drink in your hands, you fall into step with him and sigh despite yourself. “I have to start over.” 
Jay’s eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly at your words. Dramatic. Cute. “Nooo,” he says sincerely. “How come?”
“I read the question wrong.”
“Oh,” he says. “That’s okay, at least you found out now rather than later. And you still have until December to get it done, that’s almost two months! I’m sure most people haven’t even read the question,” he tells you in a gentle voice. 
There’s a fuzziness in your chest, and Jay’s words make you feel like everything will be alright. Even though you weren’t exactly cut up about the report, something about talking with him about it leaves you feeling soothed when you look up to give him a warm smile.
“I don’t have classes today, I’m just here to study,” he says, answering your earlier question as he leads you to a table. 
You watch as Jay sits down, and decide to take a seat across from him, dumping your bag on the floor at your feet. His brows quirk up when you put the drink down on his side of the table, confusion evident in his voice when he says: “You don’t like peach tea anymore?” 
All of a sudden your heart is pounding, and you grin despite yourself. Oh, Jay, you think. “It’s my favourite.” 
Matching your smile Jay slides the bottle over to you. “It’s yours,” he says.
You can’t explain the overwhelming sense of gratitude you feel over a barely cold, 500ml bottle of tea, but it beams brightly on the table between you; radiant, glowy, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “Thank you,” you say sincerely in a soft voice, lest you knock the bottle out of its haze. 
The deepest part of your brain romanticises the scene around you even further, and the table you sit at, in the smallest library on campus, starts to seem like something from a kid’s storybook. From a mythical land where the iced tea is luminescent, and you get to study with an angel who wears Chrome Hearts pants and olive green 6s.
“Can I read it when you’re done?” His question cuts through your thoughts. Surprised by how genuine Jay sounds, you glance back over at him to find him already looking at you, his lips pushed up into a soft smile that spreads flutters around your chest.
It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to realise what he’s talking about, but you tilt your head when you do. “You wanna read my paper on wind turbines and solar farms?” you ask. 
Jay’s eyes widen briefly as if shocked that you’re even asking him that. “Of course I do,” he says, sounding almost offended, defensive maybe. 
You eye him from across the table, sceptical. Jay seems to pick up on this. “Why wouldn’t I want to know about the UN’s advances towards net zero by 2030?” he asks, chuckling to himself when you raise a brow. He shrugs. “I got curious after you mentioned it.” 
With burning cheeks, you watch him as he continues to talk, neither of you making any effort to start on the work you’re there to do. As much as you feel it’d be useful to get work done in the library — because it’ll allow you to go home and do nothing without guilt — you don’t see the point in half-assing your research and absentmindedly chatting with Jay, when you could ditch the research completely and fixate over the way his lips move to form his words. 
“I lost my student card so I need to read while I’m in here. I think it’s better though; easier to stay focused, less distractions,” Jay tells you when you ask what brought him to uni just to study alone. “Usually,” he adds, gaze flicking up to meet yours with a teasing smile crossing his lips.
Jay’s words hold a flirtatious undertone that isn’t lost on you or the butterflies that take flight in your stomach. “I’m not a distraction,” you say, frowning slightly. 
“I never said you were, but I had no problem getting my work done until you got here.” 
Jay’s words remind you of your first test for Property Law in February. The two of you sat together at a table in the campus cafe, empty mugs and printed slides scattered across the space between you. For four hours, you highlighted sentences and rewrote notes to keep your hands busy until Jay walked you back to your flat, where you pulled an all-nighter so you could actually study. You got a 61 and slept for twelve hours afterwards. 
“If it’s getting to you that much, I can go,” you offer, really, really, hoping he doesn’t take you up on it.
“No, please stay. I like spending time with you,” Jay admits with a slight downturn at the corners of his lips. 
You try to work out how to echo his sentiment without sounding like a lovestruck fool, though you draw a blank, distracted by the way he– “Are you batting your lashes at me?” you ask through a chuckle.
Jay squints. “Is it working?” 
You shake your head. 
“Well, neither are you,” he points out, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that almost makes you feel scolded despite his light tone. You think you like it. 
An overly dramatic sigh huffs its way out of your mouth as you roll your eyes at him, fighting a smile at the sound of his breathy laughter. “Whatever. Starting now, I’ll work on my paper. You focus on your reading, no distractions,” you suggest.
“Right, no distractions,” Jay repeats, his eyes falling to your lips. 
Sticking to your word proves much easier than you’d initially thought and you manage to sit, mostly undistracted, for more than a little while, putting the paragraphs that can stay in italics, the bits that need to be amended in bold, and deleting the rest. 
Your workflow is broken only when Jay speaks softly, “Is it cool if Heeseung works with us?” he asks, sending a text after you tell him that it’s okay. 
And as if he’d been waiting around the corner, Heeseung shows up seconds later. “Jongseongieeeeee,” he coos when he sees Jay, extending a hand to pat his head and ruffle his hair. 
Unable to hide his irritation, Jay’s face scrunches up at the interaction and in an attempt to stop the sudden attack, he grabs Heeseung by the wrist, seeming shocked when it works. You watch him fix his hair in his phone camera. 
In the same playful tone, Heeseung says your name too, sitting down in the seat next to Jay. “I feel like I haven’t seen you since the hockey mixer.” 
You can’t help the breathy laugh that comes out at the cute pout on his lips. “Because you haven’t seen me since the hockey mixer,” you say, smiling at Jay when you notice him looking at you. 
“You weren’t at the football party, were you?” Heeseung asks, his eyes widening right when the words leave his mouth. “Riiiiiiiight, you were.” He mumbles to himself before covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m just..” he trails off, pointing at his laptop with his index finger before opening it and sinking in his seat. 
There’s a nasty pit forming in your stomach while you watch Heeseung all but disappear behind his screen. And in the black screen of your laptop, you stare at yourself, pretending that: 1. The fingerprints and smudges don’t bother you, and 2. That you don’t notice the way Jay’s looking at you. Or rather, the fact that Jay’s looking at you. If you’d noticed the way he was looking at you, you might have picked up on the softness of his gaze. But you didn't, so you don’t. 
Instead, the fact that Jay’s watching you only makes you feel worse. Though at least it looks like your hair is sitting nicely today, you think, glad to have at least one thing working for you rather than against you. Like the pit in your stomach, or the Lipton peach that tastes like nothing when you take the first sip.
In the presence of Heeseung - and the things he said - the three of you manage to get on with your work, free of conversation. 
Reluctantly, you let the two boys walk you back to your place when you’re ready to go home. Heeseung leads the conversation, thankfully, with no more mention of the football party and even hugs you goodbye while Jay watches from a few feet away. Judging by the expression on his face, you’d think the person he’d liked for months kissed him and then ran away. 
“Sorry,” Heeseung whispers, pressing his lips into a straight line. 
With your key in the lock, you watch as they retreat, Heeseung nudging Jay when he reaches him and mumbling something that you can’t quite make out. Neither of the girls are home when you get inside and, sprawling out on the couch, you look for your phone to make plans. 
you: we should go out tn
cw: tmrw ! i have a deadline
yj: broke friday or .. j*emins party 
Too broke for broke Friday, the two of you find yourselves stepping over the legs of a sleeping Sunghoon to reach the open door to Jeno and Jaemin’s apartment. There are people everywhere, including the hall outside, but you suppose this is the benefit of student housing; none of your neighbours can complain about noise because they’re too busy being part of the commotion. 
Jake almost spills his drink when he sees you both, saying “heyyyyy,” with a giggle and eyes that linger on Yunjin while he talks though he quickly excuses himself to take water to poor Sunghoonie. 
The night is largely uneventful, much the same as every other night out you’ve had since starting college. Except for the part where Jay shows up,a massive grin on his face to greet your friends. Sakura, Yunjin, and Kazuha all get a “hey” and a brief hug. Jay regards you with a nod and a small smile. At least Kazuha seems to believe you when you tell her that you’re crying in Jaemin’s bathroom because you hate your outfit.
After a weekend of self-pity, you spend Monday at a coffee shop with Sakura, watching as she studi—“You could at least pretend to study, you know?” she sighs. “Every time I look up you’re either staring at me or using your phone, it’s distracting.” 
With a frown on your face, you touch your mug to see if your coffee is cool enough to drink yet — it’s not — before flipping your notebook to a blank page and trying to write out some of the key points that you remember from Friday’s lecture. A part of you feels bad for neglecting your Architectural Practice class but it’s just not as interesting, and you tell yourself that you’ll dedicate all of your time to it after finishing your report. You definitely will not come to regret leaving three months worth of work to the very last minute. 
You study with Sakura for a few hours until deciding that you simply cannot continue, and the two of you leave the cafe in favour of a Mcdonald’s drive-thru, eating your dinner in the dark parking lot before she drops you off.
On Tuesday night, you’re thankful that Yunjin and Kazuha don’t push you to go out with them when you say you’re tired, but when Netflix asks if you’re still watching Modern Family at almost 3 a.m., you wish they had. 
You push yourself out of bed to do your skincare, and hear the two girls coming back home as you apply your last pimple patch. After Kazuha all but yells something about a huge pair of shoes by the door, it seems like they settle in the kitchen. 
They’re sharing a bowl of cereal at the table when you get there. Feeling bad, you make instant noodles for them while Yunjin hugs you from behind. Both of you try your best to laugh quietly at Kazuha’s story about some box blond figure skater who completely blanked her when she tried flirting despite staring at her all night.
Once the food is ready, you sit up on the counter, watching them eat straight from the pot. Trying to talk to those two while they’re so invested in dinner is a waste of energy so you busy yourself on your phone instead, scrolling aimlessly until both girls kiss you on the cheek to thank you for looking after them. Kazuha gratefully drinks the glass of water you give her, and Yunjin, as you expect, is stubborn about it; taking three small sips before running away to her room. 
The argument you can hear through the open window keeps you entertained as you wash the dishes, and you check your phone on the way to your room, finding two texts from Jay. 
jay: i know it’s late but can we talk in person if you’re up
jay: it’ s important
They came in four minutes ago and you chew on your lip trying to figure out what he wants to talk about. 
you: are you okay?
jay: can you come outside 
With not even enough time to hit send on the three question marks you’d typed out, the distinct ring of a FaceTime call surprises you. Though what you find more surprising is the sight of your building’s door behind Jay’s face which just about fills the screen. Lit dramatically by an orange street light, he looks beautiful. Looks cute when his lips pout slightly around the words: come quickly and dress warm, as he successfully convinces you to leave the comfort of your bed.
Through the glass in the main door, you see him. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he looks up towards the sky and puffs visible breaths into the air above him. Jay turns around at the sound of the door opening. You feel your stomach lurch because he doesn’t smile when he sees you. 
“Hey,” he says after a while, watching you intently, inspecting almost, as you shut the door softly behind you. His face softens, the smile he hadn’t given earlier coming through now. “Are you wearing my jacket?” His voice is soft too when he speaks, breathy enough for the smell of alcohol and vague peppermint to hit your nose. 
“I thought I should probably give it back,” you nod. “Sorry I kept it so long.”
Jay shakes his head, hair shifting on his forehead from the motion. “No, I love it on you. Please keep it,” he pauses, taking a step towards you. “I want you to keep it.” 
Thank God, you think. You hadn’t really been meaning to give it back, and you weren’t really sorry to have kept it so long, it just felt like the right thing to say. 
The space between you is so small that you wonder if he can hear the way your heart rate starts to pick up. In the time you hadn’t talked, you’d seen him around campus, in the corners of story posts, but seeing him here in front of you is almost overwhelming. A gust of wind ruffles the jacket Jay has on and his scent unfurls right under your nose; warm, lived in, mixed with faint sweat and what you think might be tobacco. It creates a musk that leaves you weak at the knees.
“It was milk and cookies night,” Jay continues when you don’t respond, digging into his pocket and holding a plastic-wrapped cookie out towards you. “You like white chocolate chip, right?” 
Hearing that it was milk and cookies night makes you wonder if you’d been too hasty when you turned down the girls’ invitation. 
Despite the cold, Jay’s hand is warm when your fingers graze his. Letting your touch linger, you thank him sincerely, touched by the little things he seems to remember about you. 
Even though you’re aware of the other students coming home from various nights out, and end up having to move out of the way so some of them can enter your building, it feels like the two of you are in your own world. You notice that his sights are locked on the cookie, on the spot where your fingers touch, allowing you to admire him freely. 
Standing almost directly under the lamppost now, you notice that his cheeks and the tips of his ears are dusted with red. You feel a little bad, he must be freezing, you think. Your gaze falls to his lips that sit parted, chapped like you expect, and now you’re thinking of kissing him. 
Clearing his throat, Jay moves his hand from yours to put it in his pocket. You do the same. 
“I know I said I wanted to talk, but I just wanted to see you,” he says, looking you right in the eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d come if I said that.” 
You frown, wondering if this whole time he’s been avoiding you because he thought you didn’t want to see him. “Why wouldn’t I?” 
Jay only shrugs in response. 
From over your shoulder, you hear the door opening. Jay’s eyes flicker in its direction. You turn your head to look too. A boy with pink hair frowns when both of you tell him you don’t have the lighter he’d been looking to borrow. 
“I’m sorry about leaving after we kissed. And for avoiding you. That was stupid,” Jay says as soon as the door closes. “It was childish of me to do that instead of just telling you how I feel. I wasn’t gonna say anything, because I know you only see me as a friend, but I have to let you know that I like you, a lot.” 
You stand around limply for a beat, staring up at Jay and trying to take in every single detail about this moment before you inevitably wake up. But this ‘dream’ doesn’t cut off where you’d been expecting it to. Instead, you feel your heart thudding against your ribs, your stomach flipping. The only thing you can get yourself to do is blink at the boy in front of you. The boy who likes you. 
A lot.
“It’s just that, after Heeseung said that shit in the library and you couldn’t even look at me, I knew I didn’t have a chance with you and I just.. am trying to figure out how to be near you and pretend like I don’t want to drop everything and kiss you.” 
“What’s stopping you?” you ask, surprised that your voice even comes out properly.
Jay’s gaze drops to your lips. Without noticing, the two of you had gotten so close that your chests are barely an inch apart; they’d probably touch if either of you took just one deep inhale. A beat passes. His gaze flicks up to meet yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You want to kiss him. You must. Right when you start to lean up towards him, to put your lips on his, he steps back. 
“Fuck,” Jay mumbles, his brows knitting together as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” 
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The ability to hold his liquor is something that Jay sees as both a blessing and a curse. 
On the bright side, he can drink as much as he wants and won’t say or do anything he wouldn’t say or do when sober. His delivery might be a little off when he’s drunk but the point still stands.
On the not-so-bright, catastrophically dim side, however, Jay wakes up the morning after drinking with a vivid memory of everything that happened to him at whatever party he’d been to. Plus a killer migraine. 
And so, since drunkenly showing up at your place with a cookie in his pocket and his heart on his sleeve two weeks ago, Jay’s been quietly pitying himself and gently encouraging Jake to work harder on physics so he can get some sort of time machine up and running. 
Though it seems like you’ve been able to go on as normal. So normal, in fact, that Jay starts to believe the whole thing was just an elaborate dream. So elaborate that when he scrolls through your text thread, he finds the messages that you’d ‘exchanged’ that night. He finds the thought of having developed self-awareness in a two-week-long dream to be a greater comfort than the reality that you don’t like him back. 
You would have said if you did. Right? Or at least brought up what he’d said. Asked if you could talk about it. You’d be so excited to see him again, sober, that you wouldn’t even be able to say anything except: “I like you too!” Right? 
But you haven’t. So unless you’re going through trauma-inflicted amnesia, or someone has finally come up with the technology to invent The Neuralyzer, you really don’t like him back.
Jay had been so sure, certain that you liked him back. It just seemed so obvious; like the way you seemed to find him at every party, and how anytime you saw Jake in the engineering block you’d ask about him. Surely it wasn’t all in his head. The way that Chaewon and Yunjin had been teasing you at the hockey mixer, and how Yunjin made up that excuse to leave the two of you alone at the football party. It was all so.. like-y.  
Even today, when you texted him asking to hang out. He was sure that you were finally (finally!) going to tell him you liked him too. So sure, he’d even told the boys that he’d be coming back home as someone’s boyfriend. As your boyfriend. 
But instead, Jay finds himself climbing the stairs of his apartment complex wondering how the fuck he’d been so delusional. In his back pocket, his phone vibrates. Twice. Texts; both from you. 
you: i forgot to say but lmk when u get home lol
you: and if u have time to hang out before ur game tmrw !
His heart twists in his chest as he reads your messages. 
jay: okayyyyyyyyyyyyy, i can chill for a bit
jay: what did you have in mind? 
After fishing his house key from his jacket, he twists it in the lock and crosses the threshold before texting you once more: home now :). You heart the message immediately. The laughter that Jay could hear in the hall quiets as soon as he closes the door, and heavy footsteps thud towards the living room’s open doorway. Sunghoon. 
“It’s Mr YN YL—” he stops short. “Oh.” It’s not until Sunghoon looks over his shoulder and shakes his head that Jay even notices the stupid shutter shades he’s wearing. And when Jay joins his friends in the living room, he smiles despite himself seeing the way they’d decorated the space. Streamers dangle from the ceiling, hand-drawn A4 posters with both of your names written in lopsided hearts are stuck to the wall, and Jay ignores the thought of losing the security deposit to appreciate his friends; they’re good to him. 
On the way to his usual seat, an armchair in the corner of the room, Jay stops to wrestle a bottle of Desperados from the open six back sitting atop the coffee table and kicks a balloon that was in his path before sinking into his chair. 
Knowing there’s no use giving them a play-by-play, Jay recounts the last few hours as briefly as he can. He makes sure to leave out small details; like how he felt weak at the knees when you hugged him and told him you loved him after he won you a Hello Kitty plushie from the claw machine that you swore was rigged. Or how you’d worn his jacket out and his heart started racing when he noticed that your perfume had started to mix with his cologne. Unexpectedly, the guys seem hooked on the story right until its end. “So it’s not like it went badly or anything, I just.. didn’t tell her.”
Somehow, all three of them speak at the same time: “What do you mean you didn’t tell her?” 
Jay stares at a spot on the floor, noticing a hole in the toe of Jake’s sock. He’ll make fun of that later. “I just couldn’t get the words out,” he mumbles, shoulders drooping as he slumps further and further into his seat before taking the first sip of his bitter drink a—“Fuck, why does anybody drink these?” 
“Cheap,” Sunghoon mumbles, scowling after sipping from his own.
Clearly.
“Unless I’m missing something, this doesn’t seem like the end of the world. Just tell her tomorrow, tell her now, text her,” Heeseung sighs, letting his eyes fall shut. 
The other two boys seem to agree, echoing the sentiment and adding their own ad libs to it. Jay watches as Sunghoon leans over to get another drink from the table, admiring his commitment to beer drinking even though he doesn’t like it. He waits for silence before speaking again: “I already know she doesn’t like me that way. And it’s only been two weeks so it doesn’t make sense to confess again so soon when I know the answer.” 
“Again?” Sunghoon asks, raising a brow. 
Ahhh, Jay knew there was something he’d forgotten to do. Though he's struggling to figure out how he’d withheld this information, considering it was the main thing on his mind at all hours. “Yeah, after milk and cookies I went to hers and told her I like her,” he says, attempting to feign nonchalance, shoulders rising and falling in a stiff shrug.
“And you kept that to yourself because..” 
Jay scrunches up his nose, genuinely unsure. “I didn’t go there to confess, I just wanted to see her and give her the cookie I got for her,” he admits. “But then she came outside, and she had my jacket on, and she just looked so pretty. The only thing on my mind was oh, my God, I can’t go any longer without telling you I’m in love with you.” Jay pauses, taking a long sip of beer before telling them what happened outside your building. 
As if he wasn’t feeling bad enough already, Heeseung bursts out laughing. Hard. It’s not long before Jake and Sunghoon join in and Jay wants to vanish into thin air. Feeling slightly left out, he also wants to ask what’s so funny, but the fear of being slated holds him back. 
It’s the eldest who calms down first, sitting up straight in his seat. “So you go to YN’s door, tell her you like her, almost kiss her, then explicitly tell her not to say she likes you back, run away from her, again, and you’re wondering why she didn’t say she likes you back?”
With the story being laid out so simply, Jay starts to see the flaws in his logic. Though too stubborn to admit that he’s wrong in front of Jake, he nods his head. “Exactly.” 
He presses his lips into a straight line when the boys call him chronically stupid. 
“You need to call her, talk to her, figure your shit out before it’s too late,” Heeseung says with a firm tone. 
Jay thinks about it, biting at his bottom lip before replying, asking in a small voice: “But what if she says she doesn’t like me?” 
As much as not having confirmation is killing him, there’s a part of Jay that likes not knowing how you feel about him because it lets him play into his delusions. Lets him feed himself with thoughts of you being excited to see him because you like him and not because he makes great platonic company. The thought of you checking up on him through Jake because you’ve been thinking about him, but feel too shy to ask directly. And Jay knows when you properly reject him, he won’t be comforted by such thoughts anymore. They’ll only hurt him. 
Though after hearing what may be the wisest thing he thinks Sunghoon has ever said, Jay starts to see the situation a little differently. It’s casual. Spoken through a yawn. “You already don’t have a girlfriend. Nothing to lose, right?” 
The walk to your apartment building is longer than he remembers, but the cool air feels good on his neck as he tries to figure out what exactly he should say. Jay only starts to consider that this may not be the best idea when he stands face to face with your apartment building and feels a little too nervous to buzz your flat. What is he doing? 
A grating screech comes from the heavy door when it opens, and Chaewon’s boyfriend steps outside with squinted eyes. “Jay?” he asks as the door thuds shut behind him. “YN didn’t say you were coming over.” 
An awkward chuckle slips from Jay’s lips and (for the first time in his life) he does jazz hands. “Surprise?”
Jay feels better when Jeno’s lips spread into a grin. “Ohhhh,” he says, nodding and extending an almost empty deck of cigarettes in his direction. 
“I’m good,” Jay declines, shaking his head. 
Though if things go poorly up there he might have to take Jeno up on his offer. 
Holding his cigarette between his lips, Jeno uses a fob to open the door for him, and Jay can’t help but feel comforted by the way Jeno pats him on the back and says: “I’m rooting for you.” 
Standing at the door to your apartment only unleashes a new sense of nervousness. His hand rests on it, balled into a fist, waiting to be pulled back. But something stops him. Jay lets his hand slip down the door and takes a step away from it. He’d been standing too close. Now, he stands shifting his weight from foot to foot, and the toes of his shoes are just touching the doormat. 
Reminding himself that knocking isn’t the hard part, Jay takes a deep breath and knocks three times. 
A few minutes pass and it’s now that he remembers he doesn’t even know for sure that you’re home, or awake. He counts ten seconds before knocking again and the second his fist touches the door, he hears the sound of a lock clicking and the door creaks open. 
Like something from a dream, you stand in the doorway, looking so beautiful with his hoodie on that Jay has to put in effort to keep his jaw from falling to the ground. 
“Jay?” you say quietly, brows furrowed. “Is everything alright?” 
“Do you like me?” Jay blurts out, pressing his eyes shut immediately as all plans of a proper conversation go to the wind. From his spot on your doormat, he can hear the sound of the TV quieting and a terrible silence settles over the two of you; lasting eight whole seconds before you speak. 
“Do you wanna come in?”
Jay steps into the apartment, taking off his shoes at the door while mumbling a greeting to Yunjin and Chaewon who (definitely heard him) lay on the couch with wide grins on their faces, and follows you to your room where you close the door behind him. 
“Sorry, I had, like, a speech ready and then I saw you and I just..” he trails off, standing awkwardly near the door and looking at everything in the room except for you; he struggles to tear his eyes away from a polaroid picture of the two of you with huge grins. It’s only when you talk that he manages to look over at you instead. 
“You can sit down,” you say, patting a spot on the bed next to you. Without saying anything, Jay crosses the room to sit beside you — if sitting at arm’s length can be considered as beside you. “Tell me about the speech,” you say, and Jay shakes his head while trying to convince himself that your chuckle isn’t patronising. 
“Do you like me?” he asks again, not wanting to waste any more time. 
“I like you.” 
Your words, simple and quiet, leave Jay winded. 
“You look surprised,” you say, tilting your head. “You really didn’t know?”
Immediately, he relaxes his face. Clears his throat. Jay’s not entirely sure what he did and didn’t know, but he doesn’t think it matters. Nothing could possibly matter more than you do right now. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, letting out a sigh of relief. “I like you too.” The words sound regular when he says them, though he does like the lightness in his chest knowing for sure that the feeling is mutual. “Can you say it again?”
“Jay,” you start, resting your hand on his knee. Jay wonders if this is supposed to comfort him and clasps his hands over his lap as discreetly as he can manage. “I like you,” you tell him again.
Under the weight of your words, Jay feels his heart cinch a little in his chest. Why does everything sound so perfect coming from you? He can’t help but lean in, finally kissing you after what feels like an eternity. Jay didn’t think anything would feel better than your first kiss, but having your lips move softly against his, and knowing that you like him back, might just be the best thing ever. How did he go so long without this? Dazed and lovestruck, he lets his forehead rest against yours to calm down, to catch his breath. “Again?” he whispers, hopeful, one step away from begging.
You let out a chuckle, soft, breathy, fanning his lips. “I like you,” you say after a while, quietly, a whisper, just for him before kissing him again.
Jay’s not sure when it happened, he’s not even sure he notices that you’re sitting in his lap until you grind down on him; the feeling overwhelming despite all of the layers between you. A whine slips from your mouth into his when he rolls his hips up towards yours, and he can’t help but hate himself a bit for not just confessing sooner. 
You pull away from him, a smile on your face as he chases your kiss. “Please touch me,” you whisper, hiding your face in his neck when he chuckles at your request, calling you cute under his breath.
He feels oddly thankful that you’re not grinding on him any longer because he was about two more movements away from cumming in his pants. His hand slips under your shorts, finding your clit and pressing on it through your underwear, liking the way your breath fans his skin when you sigh. The wet patch on the fabric only starts to spread when he starts rubbing you. “You like that?” 
“Yeah,” you tell him on an exhale, letting your hips roll against his hand, whimpering at the friction. 
Your mouth quickly finds his again, and you let your hand clutch at his shirt, balling it up in your first before tugging at it, parting to take it off of him. With wide eyes, you gape at his torso, the word “Shit,” falling from your mouth while you let a hand rest on his stomach. 
When he tries pushing your panties to the side, the soaked material sticks to your slit slightly, and Jay groans despite himself. You’re absolutely drenched in slick, sopping wet to the core as you let out a broken whine from the feeling of his finger slipping into you. Curling his finger towards your belly button, his eyes fall shut, cock throbbing against his thigh when he thinks about how you’d feel around his shaft, how you’d look under him.
“You’re so good,” you whisper, awestruck and trembling in his lap.
The way you watch him makes him feel a little under pressure when he opens his eyes, but, determined to make you feel good, Jay attaches his thumb to your clit and everything is so slick that his finger slips around a bit before he can help it. You squirm in his lap, your head falling forward into the crook of his neck, forcing Jay to hiss when you bite on the skin of his shoulder. Your whimpers turn into cries and you mumble that you’re close, your walls tensing around him a moment later as if to prove your point. 
Jay pulls his fingers out, holding back a moan at the way they glisten in the light, coated in you— “Nooo,” you whine, sounding audibly distraught. 
Though he’s too busy tasting your cunt on his fingers to grace you with a response. In the quiet of the room, you sit up properly to look at him, watching with parted lips as Jay sucks on his fingers, humming at the way you taste. You barely give him a chance to put his hand back down before pressing your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. 
Getting a tight grip on your waist, he moves around a bit to lay you down on the bed. Resting on his forearm, Jay leans over you, kissing you again. He lets his hand trail down your body, liking the way you spread your legs when he dips his fingers into your waistband. You nod eagerly when he asks if he can take them off, and his cock throbs when you tell him to take your panties off too. 
With no unnecessary fabric in his way, his finger drags up and down the length of your pussy. Already close, it doesn’t take long for you to start whimpering and squirming underneath him, your walls stuttering once again as you cum, hot and hard on his hand. 
Ever the gentleman, Jay stands up to place himself between your legs, groaning at the sight of you, pulsing and wet. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says. Deciding not to waste another second, he uses his thumbs to spread your lips a little before burying his face in your cunt. 
It doesn’t take much for you to writhe under his tongue, and as soon as he kisses your clit it’s a wrap. He feels his cock leaking a little when your clit starts to throb between his lips, and he can’t help but groan when you tug at his hair. 
You stutter through the words: “Too much,” and Jay tears his mouth away from you, letting his forehead rest on your inner thigh while he catches his breath, savouring your taste on his tongue. It doesn’t last long though; your scent drives him crazy. When Jay leans back over your face, he presses kisses to your cheek, mumbling to you about how pretty you are, and how good you taste, all while playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie. 
He likes the way it looks on you, way better than it does on him. Likes it so much, he almost objects when you sit up to pull it over your head. Jay’s glad he doesn’t. He gulps at the sight of your breasts, surprised to see that you weren’t wearing anything under his hoodie, his dick somehow growing harder just from looking at you. 
Jay feels an intense desperation to suck on them, but your hands reach back up to his face, pulling him towards you to kiss him again. He settles (ecstatically) for holding one in his hand, pinching your nipple with his fingers. He’s relaxed, he’s happy; not torn up about it because he has all the time in the world to feel your tits in his mouth. 
He thinks. 
Jay pulls away from you. “Wait,” he says, feeling butterflies when you smile up at him. “Can I be your boyfriend?”
Your giggle sounds like music and he feels warm all over when you say, “Of course,” the words somewhat muffled by his lips on yours again, he could make out with you all day. But he stops for a moment, looking down at you, into your eyes and revelling in this moment. Revelling in you, his girlfriend, and the way you look at him. Like he put the stars in the sky or moved mountains; like you want him just as much as he’s wanted you all this time. And he wonders what he’s done to deserve it. 
Overwhelmed by emotion, Jay kisses you, lets his tongue run along the seam of your lips as he considers just kissing you for the rest of the night. It almost seems like he’s trying to, and you speak once more against his mouth. 
“Are you gonna fuck me?” you ask, moving your head to the side. “It’s okay if you’re not, but I’d like to know.” 
Jay smirks at you — pretty cocky for a guy whose dick is throbbing against his thigh just from hearing you talk. “You want that?”
“Mhm,” you hum, nodding. “Need it.” Your gaze burns into his as he tries to process your words. You look distractingly beautiful with a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, lidded eyes, and kiss-plumped lips that you press up against his once more. “There’s condoms in the second drawer.”
Leaning up off of you, Jay reaches into his back pocket to show off the two condoms he’d brought with him.
“Classy,” you tease, though there’s an excitement in your eyes that drives him mad. 
“Responsible,” he corrects, standing up to pull his pants and underwear down. Slapping against his stomach, his cock throbs when he hears you gasp. Jay lifts his head in your direction, trying not to cum on the spot from the sight of you leaning up on your elbows, staring at his dick with an open mouth. 
Taking a deep breath, Jay reminds himself that he has all the time in the world to find out what your pretty lips will feel like around him, choosing to busy himself with putting the condom on instead. “How do you want it?” 
If the way you stop and stammer through the word “However” is anything to go by, the question seems to catch you off guard. Making his way back over to you, Jay racks his brain trying to figure out how he wants this to go, but seeing you on your back with your legs spread for him makes it clear. He hovers over you, lips drawn to yours like a magnet, using his hand to run the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, all while you whine against his mouth every time he pushes past your clit. 
“Don’t want to wait any longer.”
Your words make his stomach turn. He pulls away, his brows knitted together. “How long have you been waiting?” 
“Months, Jay,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, eyes screwed shut in a tortured expression. “Please.” 
Satisfied with your answer, Jay guides his cock to your slit. Pushes just a little. “I won’t make you wait like that again,” he tells you, and he means it, pushing in as much as he can before you cry out. 
Worried, Jay stops, leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek. “You okay?” 
“I just need a sec,” you tell him breathlessly.
Jay nods. As good as he feels, quitting while he’s ahead seems like the better option at the minute — he needs a sec too, but with the way your walls clench around him, it doesn’t really feel like much has changed. He finds himself having to hold his hips back after a while, as you get used to the feeling of him inside, your pretty little cunt starts trying to suck him in and his breath hitches in his throat when you look him in the eye. 
With a hand on the back of his neck, you pull his face back down to yours. “I’m good,” you mumble into his ear. 
“Yeah?” he asks, grinning when you nod in response. 
You stretch around him so easily that Jay whines as you take him in, deeper and deeper, inch by inch until he bottoms out. “Shit,” he mutters. How did he go so long without this? The sting of your nails digging into his bicep makes him hiss and he all but passes out when you moan. Falling from your mouth on a loop with every move he makes, his name is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard; you cut yourself off with a gasp, breath hitching in your throat.
“There?” Jay asks, even though he knows he’s hitting your spot. 
You look up at him through fluttering eyelids, becoming more and more dazed each time his hips smack yours. “Mhm, I—close,” you mumble. 
Jay takes this as a sign to hike your leg up around his waist, making sure to hit it each time he pumps into you. It seems like it’s working. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispers, using his free hand to push some of your hair out of your face. 
Your whines turn into broken sobs and you hide your face in the pillow next to you, muffling your screams. Although he thinks your consideration for your flatmates is coming a bit late, he leaves you be, finding the sight sexier than he cares to admit. 
Sexier still is the way your body tenses before squirming again, your walls pulsing uncontrollably around him while you cum. Jay’s stomach starts to tighten as he fucks you, spurred on by the look on your face as you orgasm, and the sound of his cock filling you up. With a few more thrusts and a jagged moan, he spills his load into the condom, just about collapsing on top of you. 
Considering how fucked out and sleepy you’d been while Jay cleaned you up, he isn’t surprised to find you fast asleep when he gets back from cleaning himself. He does his best to join you in bed as softly as possible but it’s no use because you wake with a large yawn, making his heartache from a weird mixture of guilt and how cute you look. 
He lays on his back, grinning to himself when you rest your head on his chest, making yourself comfy with an arm and leg slung over him. You talk drowsily about watching The Devil Wears Prada in full after his game tomorrow and nod eagerly when he asks if you want to wear one of his jerseys to come and watch him play. Jay keeps his eyes shut until he hears you snoring faintly, and looks forward to teasing you about it in the morning.
When he stares straight ahead at your ceiling, a fuzzy feeling rises in his chest. “I put my star on the ceiling too,” he whispers, knowing you can’t hear him, but feeling happy nonetheless.
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Huddled up under Jay’s jacket, you sit on the half wall outside the football house with Chaewon, watching as Jeno blows smoke from his super king over his shoulder. Though given the way that the wind blows it back in your faces, the two of you may as well have taken him up on his offer to share. 
Letting Chaewon rest her head on your shoulder, you take a sip of your drink and feel thankful to the version of you from five minutes ago who let Jay fill your cup with lemonade instead of vodka. The two of you laugh along with Jeno until you see Yunjin rushing out of the double doors and into the garden. 
“Is there anything wrong with my outfit?” she asks, giving the three of you a twirl so you can check and mumbling a “thank you” to Jeno who reaches his arm out to stop her from falling over in the process. 
Yunjin’s outfit looks fine. At first. Until you notice the massive hole in the left side of her skirt; the sight of which leaves you and Chaewon wiping tears of laughter. Through cackles and a slight stomach ache, you manage to ask what happened. 
“I got caught on something, like, an hour ago, and I wasn’t hurt or anything so I forgot about it, and then I went out front and felt the craziest breeze on my thigh and I looked down and.. half of my skirt is just.. missing,” she explains, pausing only to take a draw from Jeno’s cigarette. “Does it look intentional at least?” 
You almost choke on your drink when Chaewon suggests using her acrylics to make an identical hole on the side, telling her to market the holes as ���cutouts” and try selling it on Depop. 
“Vintage, Y2K, I.AM.GIA, Destiny’s Child, Britney Spears,” she says, although she’s had so much to drink that it all comes out as one word. “Don’t laugh at me, write it down! Babe, quick, take pictures!” 
Yunjin poses dramatically while Jeno takes product photos on her phone, and in the space between them, through the double doors, you see your boyfriend standing next to the dining table, his friends laughing around him while he stares over in your direction with a sweet smile on his face. 
And even though you can’t say for sure, you’re just glad that here, tonight, you have a pretty good idea of why Park Jongseong’s smiling at you.
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© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
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mikobeautifulheart · 2 months
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How JJK men react when they (or you) "accidently" fall on you (or them).
Including: Yuta, Yuji and Megumi
Tw: none unless you don't like falling over.
I KNOW THE TITTLE IS PAINFUL AND THE FIC IS NOT TOTALY EDITED. IM SORRY.
♡Yuta♡
All the second year students were at the traning field when you noticed that you forgot your phone.
Normally that wouldn't bother you, but today Yuta was supposed to come back from his training trip in Africa. There was nothing official with you guys but everyone around you could feel how much you both fell for each other. Just like the day he first arrived, you introduced yourself (probably the only person who did) to him. It was just like two wires fused and after that you guys became close. But it ened when Yuta left and you felt loke it was back to old times again with Maki, Panda and Toge.
"MAKIII" you yelled across the field as Maki was in the middle of her warm up lap.
"I NEED TO GO GET MY PHONE, ILL BE BACK SOON" You yelled getting a thumb up approval from her.
So you ran off the field and onto the path past the shed of cursed tools and straight to the main building in Jujustu high. You swung open the door and sprinted down the hallways.
Yuta was supposed to text you when he got back and nearly at the dormatrys because they changed the locks while he was gone and getting him his own key would take a while with his seemingly 'sudden' return. Luckily you had 2 keys made because you wanted a spare just in case it came handy.
You swung open the classroom door when you realised you forgot where you left your bag, which held your phone and pair of keys. You searched up the whole room panicking but to no avail. You looked at the clock on the wall. 4:00 pm. Yuta was supposed to be back at 4:10 and you figured the only other place your bag would be was on the bench bu the traning field...
Letting out a loud sigh of frustration you didn't want to waste any more time so you took a short cut to the oval. Right through the buildings window. You stood at the edge and pushed off landing harshly on the ground making you stumble a bit before sprinting again.
You made it to the field at 4:03, a new record, but still with your frantic searching you couldn't find your bag.
"I have to be quick before Yuta gets here or he'll be locked out the dorms!" You said franticly knowing your 3 classmates were watching you and wondering what you were doing.
You felt a tap on your sholder
"Tuna mayo Shakke."
(*We moved class rooms today remember?)
Your eyes went white realising you looked in the wrong room.
"I KNEW IT WAS IN OUR CLASS ROOM" You yelled before running again.
This time you went to the right room and saw your bag on your desk. You snatched it and looked at the time on your phone 4:11.
You said you would met Yuta at the schools enterance but there was no way you would make it there in time...unless you ran. Again.
You spun on you heals and with the last and most of your energy you ran head first into some body making them lose thier balance because the last thing they expected was getting rammed head first in a deserted hallway.
THUD
You fell onto your back in shock not realising the person hand was holding the back of your head making sure it never hit the ground.
"Are you alright!?" He asked looking down at you
It was Yuta.
"Yeah sorry about-YUTA?!" Your face flushed as his body caged your on the floor
"Sorry I didn't see you running then and just got in your way."
"NO, NO IT WAS MY FAULT" you were losing your sanity, he was so close and so...diffrent. His hair hung over his eyes and his body frame was way bigger from the last time you saw him.
He suddenly turned his head away from your gaze but you could see the red tint in his ears.
"Nice catch" you heard some one say
Both you and yuta looked down the hallway to see Maki standing there with a cursed weapon.
Immediately Yuta got up embarassed and offered you a hand up.
"Uh welcome back." You tried to act normally but that moment would live in your mind forever.
☆Yuji☆
You were in the library studying for Gojos "surprise quiz" that was taking place tomorrow. How were you going to get through all the subject set in the quiz with only one day's notice? Well you concluded that Gojo was not a very qualified teacher.
On the list of study books you'd need to read to take notes from there was one that was up impossibly high up on a shelf. But it was okay because there was a ladder at the end of the shelf you would just have to bring over.
You pulled the ladder over and made sure it was stable by shaking it a few times slightly, knowing there wouldn't be anyone to hold the ladder for you because Megumi, Nobora and Yuji were all currently out on a mission that you were no put on. It was a but disappointing but it was the perfect opportunity to study.
You got up on the ladder, when it came to the last step you got a bit nervous because the ladder began to shake a bit. But you took a deep breath and managed to make it up there without falling. You grabbed the book quickly got down the ladder. You put it on top of the other books you were using. You walked back to your table with all your study notes and materials.
It was a successful hour because you felt like you were finally ready. So you packed up your things and began to put the books back. Until it came to the high shelf. You tested the ladders durability again and finally took the first step. When tou were half way up, book tucked beneath your arm, you heard the library doors open and two people arguing. You already knew it was Nobora and Yuji. And if Nobora and Yuji were there then Megumi must be tagging along to. You kept climbing but a little faster so you could greet your friends back from their mission, however when you got to the top step you heard Nobora.
"JUST TELL HER YOU DAMNED IDIOT OR YOU'LL LOSE YOUR CHANCE!"
You looked down the ladder and saw the three (as predicted) walking toward the ladder when Nobora kicked Yujis back sending him forward right into the ladder you were on. With his instincts he grabbed a side of the ladder which only made him land on his back.
You let out a panicked gasp as you felt yourself lose your footing and fall off the ladder.
Nobora and Megumi watched in shock as the suddenly saw you fall off the ladder and crash...right into Yuji. Thank goodness for Yujis reflex skills because he managed to catch you. Catch being you landing the back of your head into his chest.
"YOU IDIOT" Nobora yelled
"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED MY PRECIOUS Y/N"
"ME KILL HER? YOUR THE WITCH THAT PUSHED ME!" He yelled in retaliation you slowly sat up in-between his legs.
"Are you okay?" Yuji sat up to crossing his legs almost trapping you between him.
"Yeah I'll be alright" you mumbled but before you could rub the back of your pounding head you felt yujis hand on it.
"I'm sorry, I'll be more careful next time, really I didn't mean to hurt you"
"I know, it's okay Yuji I know you wouldn't purposely hurt me."
A blush spreads across his face and your body warms against his.
You look around trying to avert his gaze before realising that you didn't have the book any more.
"Huh? where did my book go..." your eyes wander to Megumi who's rubbing the top of his head with one hand and holding your book with the other.
"Here" He mumbled in pain.
THANK YOU FOR READING THIS ♡♡
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AUTHOURS NOTE: yeah I'm not entirely happy with the Yuta part but maybe I'll re write it if you guys want. Also if you want a part 2 with other characters let me know because I was going to add Megumi but didn't.
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oishiyani · 26 days
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🦐 ; Where Were You?
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🦐 ; y/n’s presence never missed every single day! a text, a voice call, maybe even a visit. but then one morning.. boom! y/n vanished, not a single sign of life from them has got them shuffled in their minds! who knows could be what their reaction? (SCENARIOS)
— this is a fun little drabble while i had on my free time!! huehue, i swear ill make nikolai on the pt2 of this and along with another character in mind!
Sigma
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Would end up trashing in fear in his body.
sigma's love for you is known to be only pure, he loves you whole and so do you. a routine where you'd keep him occupied with everything that's happened to you while he shoots you a bunch of questions of things he hadn't heard such about. the more you talked, the more curious he got.
the way you talk has him falling head over heels for you! that's the most special event in his daily life. the part where you'd find him and call so sweetly of his name out of your lips, your voice instantly makes him forget whatever's disturbing his head- soon relaxed when he recognizes your voice.
with this everyday routine with you is like a vitamin he has to take everyday, without it he may not function well. it's the most crucial part of his life- he can't miss a day without you. then one day, he did almost did miss a day.
usually you'd be calling out for him when he's really stuffed with the casino of his. a perfect timing for you to be his savior to come and comfort him, but after a few hours- he looked at the clock that was hanged on the wall.
'that’s strange.. y/n should be here at any moment now.. y/n's coming here soon right?'
and so, he waited. and waited. and waited. like a dog waiting for their owner to return home behind closed doors.
sigma begins to fidget without him realizing, one of his legs starts fiddling as both of his hands clasped together, his right index finger tapping up and down for who knows how long. and you still weren't here.
its been hours, he noticed. he spammed your phone number with a few text messages asking where are you, were you alright? were you not safe? the thought of you in danger increased his worries. could fyodor have captured you to use you against him?
he swallowed the developed lump in his throat, he had to search for you immediately. now was the time to take action. who knows what could’ve happen to you? he stands up and grabs the telephone by his desk- before he was about to dial, the sound of his main doors pushed open.
there you were, standing with a bunch of bags hanged on your arm. "hey, sorry i kind of arrived late! as you can see here i bought-"
"s-sigma?" you were cut by your sentence as you were took by a sudden surprise of sigma who dropped the telephone and approached you with his footsteps in a haste. he then hugged you tightly- wrapped in his arms, never wanting to let go of you. his head on your shoulder while his face hides at your sight. you almost fell behind and tumbled because of the unforeseen of event.
"where were you?" he asked, a sound of his voice cracked as he spoke. you hugged him back trying your best to tolerate how really tight his hug is, "i was out in the mall.. my phone happened to run out of battery so i couldn't message you. i'm sorry about that." you let out of a bashful giggle.
soon you felt slight coldness on the fabric you wore, your eyes dilated and grabbed sigma's forearms to push him slowly from you.
with his face in front of you. sigma's eyes were bottled up with tears, his nose a bit red. which looks like he's been holding in his emotions for a while. the tables have turned- now you were the one worried, confused, why was sigma crying? did you do something wrong?
"huh? did something happen? what's wrong?" sigma looked down, a sigh escaping his lips- his eyebrows furrowed. "you were gone for too long and i just got worried.. really that's all." his eyes shifted in another direction, a small pout on his lips formed after.
you also sighed in relief after thinking that something worse happened to him, "i'm sorry for that sigma.. next time i'll invite you to the mall with me. we could try one of those fancy restaurants i saw."
he sniffled, his index finger swiped the tear bubbling from the corner of his eye. "sure, i'd love to go." he then smiled. "i'm happy you're back."
sigma then felt something pressed on to his lips. it was.. a cookie?! his eyes lit of sparks. you pushed the cookie futher and sigma took immediate bite of it, "i also bought these cookies for you! do you like them?"
a faint pink shade of blush wave on his cheeks, "mhm."
Fyodor
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Would come and fetch you immediately. and once found- it’s a must to return.
your presence being absent for a while doesn’t shaken fyodor himself. why? oh y/n, you lack the knowledge of fyodor’s tracking skills- an absoulute maniac at it! he could be watching you at every placed cctv camera by the city and you’re fully unaware of it.
fyodor fonds you quite alot- well for more than what you can think. he loves how you bring gifts for him on the way back, after he just watched you struggle to buy something for him. unable to choose between two goods situation. he smiles internally at how cute you look while deciding if he'd
with your loyalty to him, he surely should protect you from any harm that opposes you. that’s why he’s spectating you from the cameras y’know! it’s all for the sake of your safety after all. he even thought of placing cameras in your house, maybe if someone attempted to rob you then he’d save the day.
as soon as fyodor came back from his office- sitting on his chair, eyes stamped on the screen that displayed different corners of each street. in an insant his eyes hunt for you like a prey.
switching from cameras to cameras, he was unable to find you through it. he double checked again- maybe you’ll appear at any moment but no. you still weren’t there at the store you always went.
‘that’s strange..’ fyodor said as he gently rubbed his chin, thinking where have you might go. he only set off his eyes away from the screen for a minute and you’re gone that quickly? that was the least he expected since you take your time at browsing your items.
little did he know you stumbled upon this local cafe that just opened up! it was located at this small apartment that the owner set it up as their own business. you happen to saw a poster and an immediate urge drove into you as soon as you saw the cafe’s new release of a drink.
with that in mind, you went on your way to try it out. you open the door that supposedly says in the poster that this is where they’re located, a small, shady place for a cafe indeed. you were met by the sound of a small bell that clang on top when you opened the door. the aroma of coffee strikes you.
there were only a few people, really few.. like 3. the man who’s behind the counter greeted you a welcome. you came upfront and told him that you wanted to try their new drink. the man agreed, but as he went on to make it- the man seems like he couldn’t find himself to stop talking about you.
he continuously asked you multiple questions about yourself, what you do for living, how was living in the city, were you still studying, ‘till he abruptly asked if you were in a relationship with someone.
the first set of questions weren’t that bad, although they progressively became more personal. the conversation still about yourself- you ended up being uncomfortable as you sat and waited for your drink to be done.
“maybe we could exchange numbers.. if you ever don’t have one though! and we could go get some coff-“
“do you serve tea around here?” the familiar voice spoke. you quickly turned to your side and saw fyodor who was about to sit down beside you. “wait- fyodor?! what’re you doing here? i mean, when did you even get here?!”
“just now.” fyodor replied, his gaze on the man who was doing the finishing touches to your drink. the man who was behind the counter was also just as confused as you for the unexpected new customer. “tea sir? i’m afraid we don’t-“
“well, that’s unfortunate. i was hoping me and y/n would go here sometime.” fyodor replied. cutting the man’s words off. “y/n?” you looked to fyodor again, giving him a sign that he has your attention. he told you to bring out your phone and to wear your headphones for some reason, he then told you to listen to this orchestra piece he liked.
“just for a moment.” he told you, mouth close to your ear, then puts back the lifted half of the headphones on your ear. you watched him talk to the man, both of them having a conversation while you listened to melody in your ears. you then continued to sip your finished drink, ‘this is good.. and refreshing..’ the wave of relaxation was disturbed by a sudden slam that vibrated on the wooden counter.
you turned your gaze back to the two, lifting your headphones. the man’s face expression showed he was terrified, while fyodor was only giving the poor man a smirk. “get out before i call the police!” the man threatened. “wait- what happened?” yet again confused, you asked fyodor. he only stood up and stared at the man who’s legs began to shake.
“let’s go y/n. we surely don’t want to be in this place of a stench.” fyodor took his steps to the door turning the doorknob. you left your payment on the counter and catched up to fyodor on the way out of the apartment.
you were filled with questions for fyodor to answer, but the only answer you ever got was quite odd-
“i only gave him a little piece of advice, i wouldn’t want that cafe to be shut down completely.”
the next day, you were walking by the side of the streets. you found yourself in the same spot where the cafe you went was located. but this time, you took notice that there was a sign that said ‘THIS PLACE HAS BEEN SHUT DOWNED’
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