#new hope club headers

[aemondsbabe]

Stick it Out to the End

summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance

pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 12.7k

a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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Michael

Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing. 

Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day. 

The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129. 

Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this. 

Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs. 

He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end. 

Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid. 

He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him. 

“What the –”

Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –

Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed. 

His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness. 

Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises. 

“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”

Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy. 

Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael. 

“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”

Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation. 

“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”

The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”

“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.

The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”

Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively. 

“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”

“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.

“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.

“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”

A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line. 

“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?” 

“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head. 

After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.” 

The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.

Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet. 

“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”

The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”

“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”

Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.

“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”

“Look, I’m –” 

Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.

“Problem over here, lads?”

“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.” 

Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.

“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room. 

Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.

“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.

As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command. 

His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.

“Oi!”

“W-What?” 

“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.

He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”

The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.

“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”

“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.

“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!” 

The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.

“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”

“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”

Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door. 

Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind. 

Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?

This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots. 

You

A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term. 

“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night. 

You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet. 

The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached. 

You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from. 

Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles. 

Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.

“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint. 

She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”

Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants. 

“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear. 

“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”

You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub. 

Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you. 

Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.

“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.

Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else. 

“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”

His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.

“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.

“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”

“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin. 

“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes. 

You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”

“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”

Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”

“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”

“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”

He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”

You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling. 

“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator. 

“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.” 

Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”

“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.

You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub. 

“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.

“W-What?”

“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”

He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy. 

True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms. 

The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile. 

“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.  

Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly. 

“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud. 

“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk. 

“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink. 

His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad. 

“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes. 

“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away. 

You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously. 

“A normal amount?” 

“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”

“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”

You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”

His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”

Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.

“I –” 

“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat. 

“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.

“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”

He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”

His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.” 

“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”

“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.

“How do –”

“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.

“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”

“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.

“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”

“N-No, I really don’t think –”

“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.

Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.

“Oh, really?”

“I… I have to fuck you –”

“Mhm?”

“And prove I did somehow.”

“How interesting!”

He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.

“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist. 

He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”

Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”

He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”

“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”

“Well, I –”

“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”

“I… I suppose.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”

“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more. 

You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”

He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”

He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”

You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?” 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him. 

“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.

You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced. 

You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.

Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch. 

“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher. 

“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair. 

You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.

He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand. 

Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily. 

You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length. 

He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”

“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.” 

“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear. 

“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.

He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper. 

You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”

He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs. 

“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly. 

“You’re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise. 

“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees. 

Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck. 

“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast. 

“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.” 

His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head. 

“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.

Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more. 

You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?” 

He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?” 

He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny. 

“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out. 

Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head. 

“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit. 

“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions. 

Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don’t stop!” 

Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit. 

“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips. 

Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop. 

“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin. 

“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving. 

He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin. 

“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him. 

“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down. 

You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.

You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit. 

He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock. 

Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest. 

Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants. 

You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you. 

“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters. 

“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.” 

He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips. 

You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy. 

Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”

“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle. 

“W-What?” 

“You have a phone, yeah?” 

“…Yeah?”

“One that can, like, take video?” 

“Yes?” 

“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers. 

“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly. 

“Film me.” 

“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased. 

“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?” 

“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“

“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?” 

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.” 

“Yeah? You wanna?” 

“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.” 

Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips. 

He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again. 

“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans. 

“You don’t want to anymore?” 

“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.” 

“‘N what would that be?” 

“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest. 

He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest. 

Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.” 

He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home. 

“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.” 

“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.” 

He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly. 

As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you. 

You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster. 

“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.

“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot. 

“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones. 

The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him. 

The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours. 

That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer. 

The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath. 

Eventually, you can’t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk. 

“Something funny?” 

“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest. 

“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss. 

“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk. 

He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush. 

Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs. 

“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile. 

Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?” 

“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…” 

You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?” 

“W-Well, yeah, but —“

“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.” 

His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly. 

He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?” 

He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.” 

Michael

Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly. 

He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time. 

11:47 AM. 

He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor. 

“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look. 

“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!” 

“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame. 

Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly. 

He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more. 

He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.” 

Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!” 

It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud. 

Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort. 

The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime. 

Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.

Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael. 

He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath. 

“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.” 

The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up. 

“So, initiates, what’ve you got?” 

The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.” 

The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for. 

“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.” 

The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall. 

“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?” 

Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.” 

The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him. 

“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”

“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown. 

“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”

“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”

“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”

Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video. 

The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again. 

The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open. 

The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system. 

Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.

After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard. 

“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.

“Welcome to Bullingdon.”

Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned. 

He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers. 

Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings. 

Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.

“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.

“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”

Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”

“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”

“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. 

“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up. 

Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club. 

Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory. 

He has the real thing now.

taggled lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#michael gavey #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey x bimbo!reader #bimbo!reader #bimbocore #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fic #saltburn smut #michael gavey fic #ewan nation #ewanverse #emerald fennell #ewan mitchell #my writing

[barcaatthemoon]

first || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you score your first club goal.

months of hard work had finally seemed to pay off. you were grateful for the opportunity to just wear the barcelona colors officially, but it was nice to not just come to practice. it was a huge deal for you to finally be on the sub list. you had been waiting all season for this moment, and while it wasn't a start, it was definitely a big step for you.

"are you cold?" alexia asked as she placed a hand on your knee. you had been bouncing your knee from the moment that you sat down on the bench. nearly 60 minutes into the game, and it hadn't stopped. a few of the other girls thought it was sort of funny, especially since you had been a bundle of nerves on the bus.

"no, just restless. do you think that jona will really sub me in?" you asked hopefully. alexia nodded, knowing that they'd need you soon. there wasn't a lot of time left in the game, but quite a few of the girls were looking a little sluggish. there had been quite a few games in fairly rapid succession to each other.

"here, why don't you warm up a bit, okay?" alexia suggested. you got up from your seat immediately. alexia watched as you stretched and moved around to get the blood flowing throughout your body. jona pulled both you and alexia off of the bench to replace lucy and keira.

playing in the backline was still very new for you. whenever you had been signed, the team put you in the midfield. it was where you had always been, but over the course of the season, you had proven your defensive prowess.

in all honesty, you were sure that they deemed you too clumsy to be an attacking player. your size made you formidible, and if they could keep your movement limited, nobody would know how easy it was to get you to trip over your own two feet. that was the game plan, and you could only hope that by the time that the next season rolled around, you moved a bit more fluidly with your extra lank.

"ready for your first corner?" ona asked as she put her hand on your back. you smiled down at the older player and nodded. corners were always your favorite part of practice. it was one of the rare times that they let you play things forward.

"watch out, it's going straight for you," alexia warned you. she disguised it as a quick hug, something that nobody thought anything of. everybody had seen her being affectionate with you on social media, often treating you as if you were her baby sister. in a lot of ways, you felt like the team's baby sister, each one of those girls protecting you like you were one of their own.

the ball was crossed over beautifully directly towards you. jumping up, you were able to get a head on it well before anybody else. you couldn't see it going into the net since you had closed your eyes when you came up, but you could hear the crowd going absolutely wild. you just barely managed to land steadily on your feet, only to be knocked over by your teammates seconds later.

barcelona was up, over two goals ahead of your opponents when your header made it three. still, this was your very first goal in your very first game. to score on your debut was a dream come true, one that you thought wouldn't happen when jona told you where you'd be playing for the season. however, as you felt several bodies crash excitedly into yours, you realized exactly what happened.

there wasn't enough time for the other team to score, much less even things out. the final whistle blew, and you found yourself gravitating over towards the bench. all of the adrenaline was catching up to you, and a part of you felt tired. you had barely played at all, but the excitement from your goal mixed with your anxiety to threaten to knock you on your ass for the day.

"hey, don't fall asleep on me superstar. we're having a whole party in your honor for that one," patri said. she grabbed onto your chin and peppered your cheek in kisses. jana mirrored her, both women laughing as you tried to shove them away. it seemed like everybody took after the two of them and crowded around you.

"nice header baby bird," pina complimented you. you shook your head at the nickname. you didn't know what to do with all the attention as it started to get a bit overwhelming.

"walk with me," frido said as she reached her hand towards you. a couple of the girls tried to follow, but they shrunk back at the glare they got from the older player. "that was a good goal you had out there, and i saw that tackle. you're playing a lot better than you were at first."

"thank you, the extra practice has been paying off," you told her. frido was glad to hear it. she knew how hard it was for you to be so far away from home while playing in spain. spain was a lot different from norway, but you had ingrid to look out for you. and if ingrid was indisposed for any reason, frido was there by your side.

today, ingrid was with mapi for an appointment. it was supposed to be mapi's last one before she could test for her clearance. you had wanted to go with them, but it was because of ingrid's absence that jona had called you in as a sub in the first place. they had promised to call you after the game, but you weren't sure how long after it would be. mapi wasn't sure how long her appointment would take, and ingrid had planned on taking mapi out on a date after.

"i know that you wanted them here," frido said. you shrugged it off, knowing that sometimes it was better to be mature about not getting what you wanted. you were more than a little hurt that both mapi and ingrid, who had become like your mothers, were missing this game, but you understood. they couldn't be there for everything, and one day, you knew that they wouldn't be there at all for you.

"it would have been nice for them to see me score that goal, but i have all of you here too. you're just as much my family, and part of my journey as they are." you felt frido pull you into a hug, holding you tightly in her arms. she led you to the locker room, allowing for you to get your shower in before everybody else came in. it was nice to get hot water for once, the other players claiming seniority whenever it came to showering most of the time.

their celebrations for you continued onto the bus, even as you sat with alexia, who was taking you in for the night. she let you fall asleep on her shoulder, shushing your teammates whenever they'd get too rowdy. sandra carried you off of the bus and to alexia's car when you got back to barcelona, allowing for you to sleep all the way to alexia's house. you were groggy as you followed her inside, but quickly woke right back up at the sight of alexia's sister sitting on the couch with olga, the two of them quick to congratulate you.

"i am going to go get us a snack. mapi wanted me to let you know that she saw your tackle earlier, and she was very impressed," alexia said. she pressed a kiss to your forehead as she passed where you settled back on her couch.

"i am sure that she is. mapi taught me how to do that after all," you laughed. alexia rolled her eyes, having had to read through several texts of mapi being insufferable about having "taught you the most important skills" since you had joined the team. alexia thought that it was bullshit, that you had learned much more than just what mapi had taught you, but she kept quiet and allowed for her friend to have her moment.

#teen reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona x reader #barcelona imagine #platonic fic

[notsoattractivearenti]

I'm All Yours (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader) 🔞

WC: 1.2K

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (m receiving), curse and vulgar words. MINORS DNI

A/N: i think we all know why i wrote this one 🫣🤭 this was meant to be a fluff but somehow i started to write smutty lines and there was no turning back lmao blame mason. yes this is short, not proofread and i'm not good at writing smut btw so apologies in advance if this isn't decent 🫣 tho i hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 🫶🏻 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

–

After 5 weeks out because of the injury he picked up at the Spurs game in August, Mason was finally back on the field for a game against Crystal Palace for the EFL Cup. Throughout the recovery process, he was very determined to heal and get better than before because he didn’t like being away from the pitch for so long. All he wants is to give the new club and the fans the best performance – and getting injured was really upsetting for him, but he didn’t want to let it mess with his head. During his comeback game, he played really well during the first half before getting subbed off – he even did an assist from a corner kick which was perfectly finished by Casemiro with a header goal. Watching how he had gained his confidence back after injury and got to prove that he is a deserving addition to the team – unlike what some people said – made you feel even prouder than you’ve ever been of him.

When he went home after the game, he couldn’t stop telling you how good it felt to go back and win. He was also very happy he was able to make an assist, though he is now aiming for at least one goal for the next game.

“You know, Mase, the fans were very happy with how you played,” you told him with pride, “I’m delighted that you’re back, you were amazing.”

“Thank you, my love, I’ll keep trying to deliver. I’m going to give the best I can. For the fans, and most importantly you.” He smiled.

–

Little did the fans know, he had an advertisement video with Nike Underwear – which had been prepared from a while ago – and now ready to be posted. After the incredible game he just had the day before, uploading the video felt like perfectly timed to treat his fans. 

You weren’t present on the set when Mason and the Nike team shot the video, but you saw the pictures he had on his phone – for your benefit, he said teasingly. Since the first time he showed you those pictures, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his phone. You slowly and carefully checked them out one by one, zoomed them in and out because you didn’t want to miss every little detail. 

“Fuck…” you panted.

“Mason… These are… Insanely hot.”

He was sitting next to you and noticed how your pupils were dilated, your breathing became heavy, and how you kept biting your lip – you were basically drooling over his pictures and he was really satisfied by your reaction.

“Uh, baby, you good?” He asked as he grinned cheekily.

“What?” You glanced at him for a second. “Oh, I...”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence. Those pictures just made you speechless – that man drove you crazy. And before you know it, you were feeling all hot and heavy and your pussy was dripping wet.

“Baby, I’m gonna need a minute…” You whimpered. “Now all that I think about is how bad I want to suck your dick and have your cum in my mouth. Thanks a lot, fucker.”

“Well…” he kissed your neck, then whispered in your ear, “I would very much love that.”

You looked at him and tried to make sure he really wanted you to give him a head. He assured you by unbuttoning his pants and pulled them down.

“Whenever you’re ready, Y/N.” 

You kissed him on the lips and immediately kneeled between his legs and started by rubbing his massive bulge to build up the arousal. Mason still had his boxers on, and when you felt his bulge became harder, you gently pulled them down.

The second his boxers came off, his dick was already fully erect and you couldn’t wait to have it inside your mouth. You started by spat on his hard dick and stroked it up and down. As your hand moved all over his dick, he bit his lip and let out a few moans.

“Mmm… Fuck… That feels good…”

You kept stroking and gave his dick tight squeezes a few times too.

“Y/N… Stop teasing, please…” He growled.

“Tell me what you want now, baby.”

“I want my cock… Inside your fucking mouth…” He begged.

You began by licking his dick up and down for a short while, then swirling your tongue on the tip. His breath hitched – the way your tongue felt around the head made his heart pound and he was feeling all flushed. You dipped your tongue into his slit, and he clenched both his fists and thighs. 

“Ohhh… F-f-fuck…” He panted.

With your hand still stroking, you slowly put his dick deep into your mouth. You started moving up and down at a slow pace, and gradually changed your pace. As you engulfed his dick within your sloppy mouth, he gripped your hair and you were making eye contact with him which he loves so much – he always thinks the eye contact made the action a lot sexier and he isn’t wrong.

“Don’t stop, baby…” He bit back a moan.

The faster and deeper you went, the more intense the waves of pleasure he had. When you moaned, he could feel the vibration coming from your throat and it gave a sexy touch.

“Y/N…”  he murmured, “I’m fucking close…”

The moment you heard him you sucked faster than before and his body began to shiver. He squeezed his eyes shut, soaking the pleasure in.

“Yeah, cum in my mouth.”

“I’m about to cu- ohhh…”

Suddenly, time stopped ticking and his vision faded to black. An explosion of pure bliss just hit and left him breathless. At that moment, he filled your mouth with his cum for you to swallow.

He lied on the bed and was breathing heavily, unable to speak even a word.

“Good fuck, Y/N,” he exhaled, “that was amazing.”

You got up and smiled, now about to clean up. “Mmhmm.”

As you cleaned up, you playfully asked him, “Mase, have you eaten a lot of fruits lately?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I think I have. Tasted sweet, didn’t it?”

You licked your lips – which were still covered with his cum – and nodded in agreement. “Love it.”

–

When the advertisement video was ready, he showed it to you before it got uploaded.

“Woah, you’re going to post this with no warning?” You jokingly asked.

“Yeah, no… Why?” He was confused for a moment.

“Mase, you do know how people are going to react, right? You’re literally wearing nothing but underwear and they can see your bulge? They’re going to go crazy, my love.”

He finally understood why and chuckled.

“Oh baby… I surely don’t mind.” He winked.

“Ugh, please.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he stood in front of you and gently lifted up your chin, “you are the only one who gets to see and experience the whole show whenever you want to.”

He gave you little kisses starting from your forehead, nose, cheeks then a big one on your lips.

“Just so you know,” he added, “I’m all yours, Y/N.”

You blushed and laughed when you heard him say what he said. 

“Mmm… Lucky me.”

–

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#mason mount #mason mount x fem!reader #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fic #mason mount one shot #mason mount smut #footballer imagines #footballer fanfic #footballer fic #footballer smut #footballer one shot

[fairybinie]

pairings: choi beomgyu x gn!reader

genre: fluff, humor, angst, high school au (seniors), drama club, enemies to lovers, social media au + written chapters

synopsis: popular and menacingly wicked choi beomgyu has the entire senior class wrapped around his finger. the high school drama club has cherished y/n as their veteran for four years. to fulfill beomgyu’s graduation requirements, he must join y/n’s drama club despite his grudges. unbeknownst to everyone else, y/n and beomgyu have their history. they’ve kissed before (or more like y/n has bitten his lip to bleed) and beomgyu hasn’t lived it down ever since. y/n cannot stand this guy. they can make it through the entire year as the leads in their play, right?

warnings: profanity, mentions of kissing, beomgyu teasing y/n constantly, alcohol, will add more if needed.

featuring: the rest of txt, OC character, isa from stayc.

start date: march 13, 2023

end date: tbd

updates: monday, wednesday, friday

status: ongoing

notes: i told y’all beomgyu would get his own love story! i’m really nervous releasing this after my previous smau, but i’m excited nonetheless to share this with you all. thank you to @boba-beom especially for helping me plan this story and @iyeonjuni for the lovely header as always. i hope you all enjoy this smau and i cannot wait to start this new era <3

taglist (closed): @iyeonjuni @odxrilove @iuwon @ijhyo @cherr-y-eji @ameliesaysshoo @enhacolor @cherrybeomgyu @wccycc @hyukabean @strawberri-uyu @hyuntaena @feyregels @boba-beom @luvnhwa @tyunsion @ashxxgyu @bibinnieposts @laylasbunbunny @robinsluva @shiguresohmas @h00nerz @beomsbeanie @stepout-09-15 @ox1-lovesick @soobsdior @ifwtyun @peachy-yabbay @sunlightwoo @ttyunz @rikijackson04 @miyawwn @aintgeluh @baekhyunstruly @wxderingthoughts @moontyuns @soobpricity @hyeinszn @txtbrainrot @phenomenalgirl9 @fatoompie @stellz581 @bluebearybeom @extriella @1-800-ryujin @galaxyhalloes @tae-ology @dekusgirl @xavi-in-kpopland @obeymeharemowner @bailies-me

send an ask to be apart of the taglist!

profiles 1 / profiles 2 / act 1 / act 2 / act 3 / act 4 / act 5 / act 6 / act 7 / act 8 / act 9 / act 10 / act 11 / act 12 / act 13 / act 14 / act 15 / act 16 / act 17 / act 18 / act 19 / act 20 / act 21 / act 22 / act 23 / act 24 / act 25 / act 26 / act 27 / act 28 / act 29 / act 30 / act 31 / act 32 / act 33 / act 34 / act 35

please do not translate, modify or repost on other platforms.

© fairybinie

#🪐 — beomgyu! #🐇 — fairybinie! #kflixnet #k-radio! #k-labels #k vanity #txt smau #txt au #txt fake text #txt fluff #txt angst #txt crack #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt social media au #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu smau #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu social media au #txt fics #beomgyu fics

[meazalykov]

Teammates, or lovers?

emily fox x uswntplayer!R

warnings: none

Emily Fox and Y/n L/n are in a year long relationship together. The 25 and 23 year old first met when they both played for North Carolina Courage in 2023. Since then, Emily moved to London and Y/n L/n moved to Lyon to continue their football careers. So, their relationship turned into a long distance relationship. 

The two lovers were sad about it, and the first two months were pretty hard to adjust to. However, they both moved to the same continent so it was easier to see each other during small breaks in their careers. Y/n made the effort to visit London to see Emily, even if it's only a day trip. Emily made the same efforts as well, coming to Lyon to watch Y/n play with their USWNT teammate Lindsey Horan whenever it's possible. 

You remembered the night in North Carolina when you cried to Emily about your career. For a while, you lost your passion and struggled to find a challenge in the sport. Everyone involved in the NWSL knew that you were one of the best left wingers out there. You moved to North Carolina from the Chicago Red Stars to see if the team was the problem, it wasn’t. 

Emily understands your feelings completely. She cried with you as well since your feelings with the sport related with hers.

The next day, Y/n’s agent told her that ​​Olympique Lyon wanted to offer her a contract. The girl’s jaw dropped at the news. Lyon is one of the most developed clubs in the world, in terms of women’s soccer. She knew Lindsey Horan, her friend and USWNT teammate, transferred there after a year long loan deal. Y/n accepted the offer, hoping that Lyon would give her the passion she wanted back. 

“Emily, I have to tell you something.” Y/n sat down beside Emily as she held her hands. The brunette swallowed in nervousness, wondering if her girlfriend saw the rumors about her on instagram. 

“I am transferring clubs–” Y/n confessed, before Emily had the chance to talk, the left winger cut her off. 

“Not a NWSL club.. Um.. I signed a contract and I’m moving to Europe—-France specifically.” Y/n frowned. She looked at Emily and saw a look… of relief?? 

“Em what's the matter?” Y/n questioned Emily’s expression.

“Nothing n/n. I was going to tell you this soon but maybe I'll tell you now too– but I am moving to Europe as well. A club offered me a contract and I signed a few days ago.” Emily confessed. 

Y/n raised her eyebrows, she knew Emily wanted to transfer clubs, but wondered which lucky club signed Emily. 

“Where?” Y/n asked. 

“England...well London to be exact.” Emily answered. Y/n smiled and the two girls embraced each other in a hug.

When Emily and Y/n played at Courage, many fans started to suspect that they’re a couple. Many WOSO fanpages shipped the duo due to their close proximity at events. The girls decided that they didn’t want to go public with their relationship until a few years in, since they’d be established enough to not let external factors affect them. 

As the two girls moved to Europe, they found their love for the sport back. Y/n fits into Lyon perfectly, being the highest goalscorer in France and in the Women’s Champions League. Emily is considered to be one of the best defenders in England since her transfer. The “rumors” about their relationship died down completely, but some fans do miss the duo at Courage.

Now it's March 2024, the USWNT faces off Brazil in the 2024 CONCACAF Gold Cup final. Y/n L/n and Emily Fox were both on the roster for the tournament which excited the couple. The couple excited the fans too, as Emily and Y/n’s pictures together during training practices excited the fanbase. 

At halftime, the score is up 1-0. Y/n’s Lyon teammate Lindsey Horan scores a header that gives the United States the lead. Emily started the match but Y/n didn’t, but the forward subbed on and replaced Trinity Rodman in the 61st minute. 

In the 79th minute, Emily fox gained possession of the ball after an error caused by a Brazilian midfielder. She passes the ball to Sophia Smith, seeing the striker in a nice path free from the opposition. 

Sophia Smith struggles with keeping control of the ball when she found contact with a Brazilian defender, so she looks forward seeing Y/n L/n onside and free to receive a pass. 

Y/n L/n is known for her dribbling and perfect finishes when she shoots from outside the box. The crowd knew this, so the screams got louder as y/n moved the ball to her left. She looks up to see that the Brazilian defender in front of her didn’t move quick enough at her move, so she goes to take a shot. 

The soccer ball goes up high in the air and curves, the Brazilian goalkeeper jumps up and the ball barely grazes her fingers before it lands in the net. Goal!

Y/n jumps in excitement before she runs to the corner of the pitch, the crowd erupts and y/n has her arms spread out in celebration. 

USWNT 2-0. 

The forward turned around and saw Lindsey Horan running to her, y/n jumped up on the blonde girl in excitement. The rest of the team on the pitch gathered around the girls as they’re guaranteed to win, unless Brazil had a miracle. 

As the group disbanded from the celebration, y/n saw her girlfriend who smiled brightly. Not caring about the amount of photographers that could capture the moment and the crowd as witnesses, the forward hugs the defender in a tight embrace. Emily accepted it, naturally putting her head on y/n’s shoulder for a few seconds before letting go and tapping her on the lower back in praise. 

Twenty minutes later, the game ended 2-0. The USWNT wins the first women’s CONCACAF Gold Cup. Y/n and Emily run and give each other a hug. Well, y/n jumped on Emily who held her as the two celebrated their win. This didn’t go unnoticed by fans and shippers. 

The team knew about their relationship, so they gave the girl’s their own moment before the whole team celebrated. This is before going up to receive the trophy and gold medals. 

Emily and Y/n stayed side by side the entire night. The idea of hiding their relationship wasn’t ideal to them anymore, now they wanted the world to know about their love. 

(pretend this is you in all the pictures below)

y/n.l/n

(tagged: naomi_girma, y/n.l/n, ___emilyfox)

(tagged: 100purcent, y/n.l/n)

(tagged: y/n.l/n, lindseyhoran10)

(tagged: olivia_moultrie, y/n.l/n, lindseyhoran10, emilysonnett)

liked by ___emilyfox, sophsssmith, and 33,987 others

a month of hard work ended in victory 💙 forever proud snd grateful for being with this team.

comments

alexmorgan13 🇺🇸🔥🏆

___emilyfox I love you!! ❤️

wosofan OH MY GOD???

y/n_lyonfan I CANT BELIEVE MY EYES

100purcent gold cup champs!! so proud 🥹

sophsssmith 🤍

trinity_rodman I had such a fun time! 🏆

y/n.l/n same!!

--

an: my first uswnt centered fic! hope you enjoyed <3

#emily fox #arsenal fc #woso appreciation #woso x reader #uswnt x reader #trinity rodman #leah williamson

[deandoesthingstome]

Exactly What His Heart Meant

Pairing: Pornstar!August Walker x Pornstar!Reader

Summary: August Walker has wanted you forever. You want him, too. It's perfect.

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: This is Pornstar!AU, okay? 18+ ONLY Drug and alcohol use, mentions of a three-way, generic anal, bad business practices, oral sex (F & M receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, P in V missionary and doggy style, sex toys, pegging (gasp - yes I'm going there), aftercare. Love.

A/N: I am nervous, okay? This is not your average everyday August Walker, but I love him and I hope you do too. I have been wanting to do this since forever. I've posted a few blurbs in WIP tag games here and here. I gushed about the song that kicked the whole thing into high gear and the fic title is taken from "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" - Rod Stewart. Both songs can be found on the playlist.

Bonus points if you can find the nods to other HC characters. There is definitely one, maybe two or three if you squint hard. (These points don't get you anything, sorry.)

Playlist: Listen to the music of the night on Spotify here.

Header and dividers by me.

August owned his entrance like no other. The studio made sure to send a PA ahead to prep the DJ and once he heard the first strains of “Night Fever” spill out of the club, he stepped out of the shadows and headed to the entrance, ready to start his decent down into the lights and glitter and debauchery as soon as Here I am sounded through the speakers and a spotlight made its way to him.

The already celebratory crowd went wild as he struck the iconic pose and thrust his hips in time to the rhythm. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried, no matter how he had protested his employer’s choice for him. He would have sworn on any stack of bibles he didn’t like disco and abhorred polyester, yet here he was gyrating away. First time for everything. Starting with enjoying this awards night and after-party.

Each one prior had a story already attached to it from the beginning of the night, starting with his inaugural ceremony and guaranteed newcomer award, and trailing through the end of every relationship he thought would be the one. He finally stopped assuming because they said yes to the event after a few months or more of dating, that meant they were saying yes to him forever. The next few years were brutal and lonely, not that he couldn’t find some starfucker to take home at the end of the night, but that wasn’t what he craved.

Tonight was Club Retro themed. Award ceremony glamor as usual, but a costume change was required somewhere on the way from the venue to the after-party if you wanted to really up your game. Arrive in club gear of whichever era you wanted, but arrive dressed to impress nonetheless. He wasn’t the only actor a studio had convinced to go for the Travolta look, but he was probably the most surprised to find himself exhilarated by it and the attention it received. He kept all three pieces of the white suit, but he ditched the dark blue shirt altogether. Maybe he didn’t have a full head of hair, but the ‘stache and chest hair on display held 70’s swagger and he was running with it. 

He grabbed a glass of champagne from one tray and a pill from another and set off into the crowd in search of the rest of his crew. He caught glimpses of the fresh-faced sweetheart who’d just inked a new deal grinding on the studio’s number two out on the dance floor and knew his plan to link them up had worked. The fans would eat them up, he knew it. 

Knew it better than the owner, who wanted August to break her in. Ethan had begun making some really bad casting and scripting decisions and August was glad his contract was coming to an end. He was starting to feel like he wanted to just blow the whole studio up, let loose with all the bullshit he knew about his boss and how he ran his business. The industry could be awful, plenty of horror stories, but August had initially thought he’d found a place to call home. 

What he’d begun to uncover about Ethan Hunt could fill a manifesto that would take the place down. And as crazy as it sounded, though he was tired of breaking in new talent, he wasn’t ready to be the reason all his friends lost their jobs. Not everyone was in a position to land on their feet. Regardless, at least now, with the sweetheart and the roughneck on a solid trajectory he wouldn’t be in the middle of something if tonight panned out the way he hoped.

Though, to be honest, it wasn’t looking good. He’d found his crew and then scanned the room for her with no luck. 

“She hasn’t shown up yet,” his agent purred in his ear. Kelis was always down to party whenever he had an itch no one else would scratch, and he appreciated how decidedly non-attached she always was. No clingy phone calls or pouting over non-existing anniversaries. It aggravated him, though, that she was looking to seduce him here, tonight of all nights. Especially because she knew where his mind would likely be, but it didn’t stop her from begging for his cock every now and then. He could tell she’d gotten the hint his look gave by the way she toned it way down to answer his next question.

“A few from her studio have shown up but she wasn’t with them and they wouldn’t tell me where she was. It was all very secretive. So at least let me have my way with you on the dance floor if you won’t take me home tonight. Please?”

He relented and found himself having the time of his life. Song after song flew by as he grabbed water then whisky, a line, then water, another line, then whisky, water, whiskey, whisky, water. Dancing with Kelis gave him a chance to forget about his frustration with his studio and everyone, here or not, for the moment. He let himself be free and felt a weightlessness he hadn’t in a long time. No call sheets waiting at home. No scenes to prep. No “scripts” to read. Tonight and the next two weeks were his and his alone. Time for some decisions.

He noticed the crowd had begun to thin, and realized he wanted some fresh air, so he peeled himself away from Kelis with a promise-to-return kiss and tap on the ass. He took the elevator to the rooftop bar and found himself a little amazed at the streaks of light just beginning to emerge in the distance. Time had really flown while he was having fun.

He was about to head towards the drinks when he spotted her leaning against the railing in the opposite direction. The white-golden hair flowing behind her was an obvious wig. He’d seen her step to the stage to accept multiple awards tonight (or is it last night now?) and she had looked just as gorgeous with her natural color as she did all done up in her Farrah waves now. An unexpected jolt of excitement coursed through his veins as he realized she’d also opted for a 70’s look, complete with a scandalously (though by whose standards?) short metallic silver skirt with slits on either side and what he assumed was a matching top, though with her back to him as she peered out over the awakening city, all he really saw where the two thin silver chains that criss-crossed across her back. They looked like they would hold nothing up.

But she was alone and he knew it was now or never, so he strolled around the roof-top pool to step up beside her.

"I’m glad I finally found you. I wanted to congratulate you. It's not often a producer gets awards for both behind and front of camera work," he opened.

She turned her head and beamed a dazzling smile in return before thanking him and offering her own congratulations along with her hand and then a surprisingly friendly hello hug.

“I saw you nailed Best Male Performer and Best Anal again. Your Missionary: Impossible series was a true stroke of genius. I wish I had thought of it first.”

“So she’s not immune,” August thought as he peeled himself away from her warm body. “She remembers my name.” At least she recognized his star status. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten him. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and trained his eyes on her through his lashes.

“You know I’d love to have you join the cast,” he spoke as he finished the hello hand kiss and lifted his head to gaze directly at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that scream ‘spy’ quite as much as yours do.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a producer acting for another studio. You’ve got balls to ask, that’s for sure,” she laughed, tossing back the rest of her whisky before grabbing another off the tray passing by.

“Where’ve you been all night? I tried to find you right after the ceremony, but you disappeared and I had to run for a wardrobe change.” August tossed a casual grin and motioned at the cheesiness of his costume, though inside he was kicking himself. 

The point of engaging wasn’t to offer her a part. How ridiculous! He’d been doing that for months now and she wasn’t biting. No. Tonight he was going to get answers. Why had she consistently denied him another shot with her? It had to be more than just the technicalities of trying to untangle ownership and percentages filming another studio’s producer would bring. She broke into his train of thought with an explanation of her quick and sudden departure from the award banquet and why she hadn’t arrived at the after party locale for what had to be at least a few hours.

“Already prepping material for next year. We had a newcomer attend with the studio tonight. He’s an absolute stud. Looking to get his name out there so we filmed his first scene backstage.”

August’s hopeful heart sank a little. He couldn’t expect her not to keep putting out material just because his advances might finally be successful, but it would take all his cool charm and guile to woo her if she was already cock-drunk tonight. He put out another feeler.

“You look well put back together already,” he commented, eyes tracing her figure with obvious intent.

“Oh not me. No, I was directing. Looking to nab that ‘behind the scene newcomer’ award next year,” she beamed, her smile still welcoming. “No, Mikey did a little gonzo three-way for his first official movie with Darkk Angel. We’re releasing it next week after a quick trip to post and then have him lined up for three more scenes next month. I’m wondering if we can talk AVN into a “most prolific” award.” Her laughter was infectious and he found himself with a wide grin, verging on goofy in spite of his aim.

“You’ve never directed? How have I missed that?” August sought to focus attention away from whoever this Mikey kid was and back on her completely, then mentally kicked himself again for admitting something that could only make him look desperate and maybe a little creepy. From his statement, and along with all the official asks from his agent, she had to think he was a stalker, completely obsessed with her. 

Not that he wasn’t. Not since that very first time. Her “first’ anal scene. He understood she had to be a little overwhelmed at that shoot with so many people on set. She had clearly already fucked the director (for a scene) and was now just taking on a few actors who were already on a rise. It was his last commitment to the old studio and then he was off to a new contract with Hunt. God, he wished he could have taken her with him. As it was, the only thing he kept was her scent that lingered not long enough.

"You know, I've asked my agent about another scene with you more times than any other actor. He never has a good enough reason to tell me no. What gives?" August inquired.

She debated telling him the truth. That she was completely enamored of him despite, only having met once, and afraid to ruin her own fantasy. Yes, she thought about him often. She’d be lying if she said otherwise.

But what if he refused her counter-offers? What if he didn't play the way she had come to discover she wanted sometimes, needed even?

She could accept if his big dick in her pussy or ass was all he'd agree to again for one scene. But she wanted more. More than a scene. More than a spectacle.

"Industry's hottest stars finally fucking again!" she imagined the trade headlines would scream, not bothering to temper her own ego about her status.

And which studio got the rights? His or hers? Of course she would never give up the rights to those shots, those stills, that video. It had been years since any studio other than the one she owned had any rights to any images of her. Why August Walker didn't make the same professional move she had was beyond her, but at least she could play the upper hand if it came down to it. It was power to own the rights to your own material and that power trumped his studio contracts. Or at least she'd make that case. Plus Ethan Hunt was a little bitch and she’d be damned if she contributed to his profits in any way.

Still, she couldn’t get past the concern that having his big dick in her ass again would ruin her for anyone else ever again. It wasn't the size. Hell, she'd had two almost equal to him in there just the other day.

No. It was the fantasy. Not only what she already knew of his prowess, though if she’d improved over time, and she knew she had, he had to have gotten better too. But also what she imagined she knew based on the stories she'd heard. Stories about his true personality as well as the image she made up in her head based on tidbits of their past and innuendos of his present.

On set, she'd heard he’d become a bit of a prick. Even worse when the storyline called for Daddy. Not that it didn't make her wet to watch. And daydream about. Calling him Daddy, mmmm.

Except that wasn't her. Not her kink. Not her need. Not really.

And off set? Well, lips are usually loose in the industry, but somehow very few factual stories about dating August Walker were out there. Most of what she'd heard was easily dispelled rumor.

No, he wasn't into animal play. Either kind. Good.

No, he didn't force his partners to sleep in separate rooms after finishing. Why would someone even start that rumor? To what end? 

Her private private detective had tracked down the source and verified quickly. It was a little bit of column a, a little bit of column b. The studio was looking to cash in on the mystery and intrigue of their dashing playboy, and a jilted date wanted more. Who wouldn't want more of him? But that choice was self-sabotaging to say the least.

She was well aware that some women, and men for that matter, liked to imagine their favorite actor to be the world's largest asshole. No, not that way. 

That was the way she liked to imagine him. And the basis for her declination. He'd never say yes. She was sure of it.

And yet here he was. Blushing at the mere mention. Maybe she should have countered with that when he first started seeking her out. But she hadn't been ready to give up the rush she felt every time a message from Hunt Club studios appeared in her inbox.

August felt the heat rise in his cheeks and knew someone out there would say he was blushing, but August Walker does not blush.

As she leaned in, he swiped another surreptitious peek at her gorgeous and barely covered tits, though he was so smooth no one could have seen this time. Not that it mattered. He was right about the thin silver chains holding onto barely anything up front. Where she found tissue paper thin metallic material, he had no idea but her nipples showed through what little fabric there was making up the plunging neckline of the deep-vee tank, as if they weren’t also practically peeking out of the top as it was. She had them on display for a reason. But he was trying to make a move here. Trying to differentiate himself from the rest of the industry players and hangers-on hoping for a hook-up after the awards.

Champagne and liquor had flowed all night, powder cut, pills popped. He was tipsy but it was really the sunrise inching its way into the sky behind her, here on this rooftop bar next to the pool full of drunken, naked bodies, and the angelic halo circling the crown of her head that had him staring back into her eyes in no time, enraptured. Well, that and her reply.

“I have certain … desires that I’m not convinced you’d be amenable to and I didn’t want to alienate you.”

He went on to ask, no - insist, she explained her terms, right here right now. And she obliged, clarifying that she didn’t intend to be filmed at all. That her interest in climbing into bed with him was related only to the burning desire she’d felt to track him down, beg him for more, practically every day since that shoot. And the thing that convinced her not to bother was the never ending stream of talent she’d seen draped around him months, years later. 

But she wouldn’t, couldn’t deny that she wanted him. Wanted to relive that moment and then build on it. Take the scene farther than was written. Fuck him right off the page and into her life forever. It was indescribable the way he felt listening to her narrate her desire to own him. She was only mentioning the bedroom, but he got the feeling she meant the heart as well.

Still, she was being mysterious with the details, so August began to mention specifics. What he wouldn’t do.

"I won't lick your boots," he'd said with a grin after a shorter than expected list, still wavering on if he actually meant to convey the opposite.

"Maybe not," she replied before leaning in and whispering in his ear as he tilted down to meet her. It was clear from her next sentence that she’d finally figured out he’d say yes. He was practically begging for it right here in front of these few end-of-the evening stragglers. "But you will take every inch of me."

Negotiations had already begun and this was just ink on the dotted line. Along with a string of consent questions with compatible answers and now she knew his safeword and he knew hers. It wasn’t what it used to be. Because things can change. But not his desire for her.

He brushed past her non-binding handshake and drew her in for a confirmation kiss, hands gently pulling her waist towards him. “You still smell the same. It drives me crazy,” he admitted before pressing his lips to hers with a smile. Then he broke the kiss, which had begun to turn lascivious even for the nature of the event, afraid they’d never make it off the roof-top if he didn’t.

He gave a deceptively shy smile and knowing nod to Kelis as he passed her on his way out with the true object of his desire draped along his arm.

She sent her limo off with whatever crew was left at the party before climbing into the back of his. They had no sooner pulled away from the curb and begun to make their way to his hi-rise apartment building than the driver’s shield went up and she went down, unzipping his trousers and slipping her hand in to coax him out. 

She had gotten incredibly better at sucking dick in these interim years. But it was like she was finally home. Like her mouth opened magically around him to hold him close and taste his skin. It took everything in his power not to blow his load down her throat in the car. He wanted to be in her pussy when he came and there wasn’t much he wanted more at this moment.

He managed to pull her off and get her back on the seat, legs spread and ready to take his shoulders as he slipped his tongue deep inside her core. Moving the floss she’d bothered to pull on out of his way wasn’t hard in the least. He had her screaming by the time the limo pulled up outside his building.

August draped his suit jacket over her shoulders before he helped her out of the car and into the lobby. When the elevator doors closed around them, she turned and pressed him back into the wall, staring up at him with hunger and power equally.

“That’s the last time you call the shots tonight. I’m taking my shoes off as soon as we walk in your door, so you can’t accuse me of asking you to lick my boots. But you will be on your knees and you will put your mouth back on my pussy and do that one more time before anything else happens tonight. Understood?”

He stared down at her with amusement that morphed into understanding that ended in solemnity before the ding at his floor broke the silence.

“Yes ma’am,” he finally replied, resigned to her whim. He opened the lock with practiced ease, nothing shaking out of fear but only vibrating with anticipation. How had he missed her meaning all those years ago? 

“I wish I could show you how this feels,” she’d whispered in his ear as he held her chest tight against his. “But it’s nothing compared to how it feels from behind.”

At the time he thought she had meant for him to turn her around, still on top of him but back to chest. So he did. And she liked it. She came like a banshee and that squeeze is something they can’t fake. That’s what wins the awards anyway. The audience knows it’s acting, but when they can tell it’s something the actor actually wants, when the chemistry is kinetic, the high is so much higher. 

Clearly she’d had so much more in mind. When she came back down, he made sure to check the front door lock before he turned back to scoop her quivering body into his arms and carry her down the hall to his bedroom.

“Don’t think I’m anywhere near done with you just because I’m a wreck right now,” she called to him as he set her onto his bed. “Where are you going?”

“I would never think you’d consider that enough for an evening. I want to freshen up, if you don’t mind. May I?” August quirked an eyebrow awaiting her response and it was clear he’d come right back to the bed if she forbade it. No questions asked. But she allowed it and that only made him ache for her more. He’d be quick.

“Damn right you will!” she called out after him before ridding herself of her own garments. 

Her hand must have found its way to the soaking mess between her legs and this is how August found her when he stepped out of the bathroom a very short while later, rubbing a towel over his head after peeling it off his body. He watched her luxuriate in the slippery slide feel of her fingers dipping in and out, rubbing, pinching, pumping, pumping, pumping.

He dipped carefully onto the bed. He had no desire to startle her out of her joy, he only wanted to witness it up close. He crawled alongside her and watched as her chest heaves softened and listened as her sighs became longer. When she finally opened her eyes on a deep inhale, he smiled at her.

“May I join you?” So respectful.

“Kiss me,” she commanded, and while he heeded she lifted his arm and guided his hand between her legs. “And touch me,” she whispered into his mouth. 

He obeyed. His fingers drifted through her folds and made use of the slick that remained to press up into her. One, two, one, two. And now three. And now she’s grinding up against his hand and breaking the kiss to demand more and he’s giving it to her but it’s not enough, is it?

“More,” she cried out. “Fuck me, August.”

He was grateful at that moment for two revelations from the rooftop. He already knew his own status, testing often despite Hunt’s lackadaisical studio regulations. But she had shared that her studio adopted the standard of routine and regular testing early on and therefore she knew exactly what her status was, too. And, coupled with the fact that she had the implant, she had no qualms going bare. All these things led to the next thing he was grateful for and that was the feel of her pussy wrapped all the way around him as he slipped his prodigious cock deep inside her. 

He mused he could do this all night. Or rather all day and into the night, when the moon began to rise again. Because it wasn’t night at all. It was broad daylight now and it was streaming in through the mirrored windows. Nobody could see it, even if they did find themselves on level with the height of his apartment. But no curtains meant he could see the way the sunlight brightened her face and it made him want to see all of her.

“Will you take it off, too?” he asked, staring down at her while he pistoned his hips into hers and felt her open and warm around him. “Please?”

He wasn’t used to begging. As much as he wasn’t a blusher, he definitely wasn’t a beggar but he found himself wanting to do anything for her and she wanted him to beg. Or at least ask nicely. And he wanted to obey. For the first time, maybe ever, August Walker wasn’t in charge.

She obliged and pulled the wig off easily. It wasn’t even pinned on, there was so much bang to cover the cap. All that meant was she was able to free her natural hair with ease and he was thankful. Now she lay bare before him and he got to take a good long, up close and personal look before she took it all away.

Faster than he would have preferred she slipped back and eased him out, but turned just as quickly to take him in her mouth. August let his eyes fall closed while he relished the feeling of her mouth around his cock again, but just when it started feeling really good, it also started feeling too good. If she continued he was going to come and he really meant it when he decided he wanted to be inside her for that. And not her mouth.

“Please,” it was practically a whisper. She almost hadn’t heard. But she let go with a pop and asked.

“What was that?”

“Please,” he begged again, raspy but with sound this time, voice hitching as she took him back in her mouth for just the briefest of sucks.

“What are you asking for?”

When he pleaded again with a cracked voice, she smiled as she let go.

“What is it, August? Huh? What do you want? Or not want?”

“Please…please don’t.” he stuttered as she continued to toy with him. Dick in and then out of his mouth with no concern for his predicament.

“Say it, August. Ask nicely.”

“Don’t make me come,” he begged, even as she sank to wrap her lips around him once more. “Please.”

“If that’s what you want. You only have to ask. Nicely.” She was so proud of him and he could feel that. Could tell she’d do anything for him. And let him do anything for her.

“Let me fuck you,” he asked. “Please. Just ….”

“Don’t bother saying it, you and I both know 5 minutes turns into 20 in no time,’ she laughed with him as she lay back with her legs spread wide for him. He stayed kneeling between her legs and watched her face explode with pleasure as he rocked deep and strong inside of her. He wasn’t trying to overcome her, wasn’t looking to establish any kind of dominance. Not on purpose at least. Because the fact of the matter was, that no matter how much he wanted to let her be in charge, it just came so naturally to him. It was hard to drop that mantle. Especially while fucking into her and watching her fall apart around him.

Then she shook her head and through sheer will, dragged herself back from the precipice to snake an arm up his chest, fingers drifting to his neck and drawing him down against her. 

“Kiss me again, August,” she commanded and he obliged with no hesitation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t resist and instead put her right back in the trance his cock had caused, but he didn’t want to. They’d agreed on this night. Agreed what it would mean. He was finally getting what he’d craved all these years. And so was she.

Their tongues tangled while his fingertips traveled over velvety skin, her legs wrapped around hips, his thick member pistoned in and out of her wet and slippery cunt that she controlled so well. She hadn’t been wrong. August imagined he could stay like this forever if she’d let him, drowning in her glory, ego stroked with every gasp and whimper and cry of hers. It was music to his ears. He’d heard enough fake moans and pants over the years to know what the real thing sounded like and he never wanted to give it up.

When he felt her squeeze tight around him for the second time, he began to slow, sure that more than twenty minutes had passed but completely uninterested in confirming his suspicion. No, he wanted her on her knees again.

“Can I have you from behind?” he murmured in her ear after kissing his way along her cheek and neck. “Just for 5 minutes.”

She could feel his grin, but before she could compose an appropriate response, he’d shifted, changed tempo and hit a different spot that had her howling and fighting the urge to beg him for more. Even then brief respite she’d have while they switched positions should allow her to gather her wits and tamp down her desire to just let him rail her into the next day. Because tonight was for something more. So she pushed him back away from her, flipped and pulled herself to all fours while crawling towards the center of the bed.

With a seductive glance over her shoulder, she called to him, “Come and get it, stud.”

Five minutes in heaven. That’s all she was going to allow him. She pressed her chest down into the bed and let him drag her hips into the air, flesh captured under his strong fingers. She screamed into the sheets as August directed her pleasure with practiced skill and just when she felt she couldn’t hold on any longer, he slipped a saliva-coated thumb into her ass and sent her reeling. He’d timed it perfectly. 

“You’re done,” she fought through her haze to flip to her back and clarify. “We still have a deal, right?”

She watched him stroking himself lazy and slow to stay hard while his eyes blinked shut with relief almost involuntarily. 

“Yes,” he replied, his exhale full of yearning. “Will you show me?”

“Show you what, August? Hmm?” she asked with a tilt of her head, pleased he was finally ready to give in to what he’d already agreed to back on that rooftop.

“Show me how it feels.” It wasn’t a question, yet still not a command. He’d never dare to command her. Not until she was ready for him to. And that wasn’t tonight.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since we met.”

All those years. All that time. August closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told himself it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He pulled back a bit from the ledge that he wanted to step over for missing her meaning all along. As if she could read his mind, she spoke from somewhere that felt like a dream.

“I’m glad you waited though. I wasn’t ready either. I was trying to get over my nerves and thought a little brazen tease directed at the top talent on set would help. But I’ve discovered I really do like sharing that experience, knowing I can make a man feel the way he makes me feel. Make him understand how much better it is when it's from someone who cares."

When he opened his eyes, she was pulling herself up to her knees to meet him. He felt her hands trace along his chest as she pressed her lips to his. It was almost sweet, but definitely a relief. She really did want this as much as he did.

For a mini-eternity, they let their tongues tangle and hands roam. August shivered as her nails traced down his back with the perfect dig and smiled into her lips as he thought about the red lines he’d be left with the next day. He cradled the nape of her neck as even on knees he towered over her and let a hand drift down the soft skin of her side and around her waist to cup her ass.

When her hands finally landed in the same spot on him, he felt another layer of tension release as she caressed and squeezed each cheek with passion. She broke the kiss and nuzzled down his chest, landing on her elbows before him. With eagerness, she took hold of his still invigorated member, gave a few soft strokes, and then put him back in her warm, wet, inviting mouth. 

But this blowjob had an ulterior motive that August felt as soon as it turned sloppy and her saliva began to drip and pool around him. With a now slick hand, she slipped her fingers off the base of his cock and in between his legs, tracing past the waxed-bare skin off his balls and teasing his entrance.

She circled and smoothed and kneaded until he finally felt a finger ease past the first ring of muscle and he had to put a hand on her head to slow the bob that was already threatening to pull his orgasm too soon. Surely she didn’t want that, did she?

August dropped his head back with a groan of pleasure as she let her spit drop onto her fingers again before pressing a second digit inside, just beginning to open him up to all her possibilities. It already felt so, so good. If this was all she did for him, it was worth it, but not really what he wanted. He’d had a few other lovers tease him like this, but he always stopped them short, still too nervous to let them go all the way to where he needed.

He’d kept this part of himself secret, shared it with no one, tested it only when alone. He knew it was stupid to hide this craving, especially given how exposed he allowed himself to be on film. But this was something different. Something personal. Private. That’s what he told himself. And he let his stature in the industry dictate the type of man he was in a bedroom, with a woman but without the cameras, for far too long.

His head was spinning as her tongue licked his length and her fingers teased and touched. She was pressing and pushing deeper and when she finally found his spot it took every ounce of willpower to maintain composure. He still wanted more of her, still didn’t want to come yet.

It dawned on him then that she hadn’t brought an overnight bag with change of clothes for the morning or toys for the evening. Just her ridiculously sexy wisp of an outfit and a tiny clutch that couldn’t have hidden even a bottle of lube, let alone the tool she needed to fulfill their bargain. She’d promised him he’d take every inch of her. Could she really have meant only this? Was she expecting him to come as she beckoned inside him?

“I can hear your thoughts, August” she purred up at him with a smile, mouth off his dick, but fingers still toying with him. “I don’t want to stop here either. I’m sure you can help me out, can’t you?”

She felt him tense and knew he was weighing the pros and cons of admitting what she had guessed when he agreed to take her home immediately without offering to make a stop along the way. August had his own equipment. No doubt about it.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, removing her fingers completely and returning to her knees to kiss him hard and deep before speaking to him on his level. “You don’t have to hide anymore. Show me what you need.” 

She watched the seas of his eyes storm with fear before settling into calm as she held his gaze with no judgment, no mockery. She kissed him again, licked into the space between his lips and felt the passion as he held her tight, almost holding on for his life while he kissed her back.

When he finally broke free, he stepped back off the bed and opened the nightstand to remove a bottle of lube before he moved across the room to a mirrored armoire. He opened the doors and removed a sleek, black box which he brought back to place slowly on the nightstand, clearly deep in thought. And then he hesitated, hands resting on the lid of the box, head down.

“I don’t…” he started, and she felt a small ache in her heart. She had never seen him so vulnerable. Not that she spent much time alone with him at all, but this was truly a side she hadn’t quite expected after everything she knew about him.

“We can take our time, August,” she spoke with a careful tone and no desire to spook him. He remained still and she felt reassured he wasn’t running, not in his mind or his body. When he spoke, she had to stifle a small laugh for fear she would send him running from misplaced shame.

“I only mean, I don’t have a harness for you.” He turned, fingertips of only one hand still on the closed box, eyes scanning hers for understanding. And she understood completely.

She moved closer to the edge of the bed and grinned at him. “Oh, August. Oh baby, this is what has you worried? You think I can’t make it good for you if I’m not wearing it?” She watched this new layer of tension begin to melt away as he registered her words. “August Walker, I meant what I said and I can’t wait to fuck you however I can. And believe me, I know how to make it good.”

She waited for him to relax, to speak, to return to his usual manner and let her back in. Then she took a calculated breath, dropped the timbre of her voice, and called to him.

“And you’re going to let me, aren’t you August?”

Her eyes dropped just in time to see the twitch in his still hard-cock and she knew he was back and ready to let her have him. He flipped the lid to the lacquer box with one finger and revealed a small treasure trove of devices, any of which she’d be thrilled to treat him with. With no idea how prepared he really was, she let him choose. 

“Will you start with this?” August handed her not the smallest, but not the largest either and she accepted willingly. “It’s been a minute.”

With complete understanding she led him back into bed on his knees before grabbing the lube from the nightstand and setting about her business. Kisses first. Deep and hungry. She wanted his tongue down her throat and he obliged while she held the dildo and lube in one hand and stroked his rock hard cock with the other. 

Before too long, she’d dropped the toy to the bed and flipped the lid to the tube, using proprioception to drop several dollops onto her open hand before reaching between his spread legs while still commanding his kiss. Her fingers smoothed the viscous fluid over his entrance and dipped a little in with a finger before she reached for the prosthetic and smeared the rest around the tip and down the base.

Her lips left his reluctantly as she ordered him to hands and knees while she maneuvered behind him. With practiced skill, she massaged and manipulated her fingers inside him once more, listening for the moans and groans that told her he was ready for her to place the tip alongside a finger and ease the toy inside. She watched him carefully, moving slowly and waiting for him to relax fully before she slipped the whole thing in and he took it with the sweetest grunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, August. Just like I knew you would. Does it feel good?” she questioned, while gently pulling and pushing, twisting and pressing, smiling when he answered in the affirmative. With each motion she listened for the sounds that would tell her where and how it felt best and she was quick to learn his needs.

“Fuck…just like that,” he begged and hitched back into her, already wanting more.

“Impatient,” she teased lightly as she shifted to the side so she could both lean over to capture his lips again and still work the toy in and out of his slowly writhing body. She kept him wanting, shifting the speed and direction, for as long as he could last before he finally begged for the real thing.

She left him face down and ass up while she switched gear, careful to add more lube to both him and the larger phallus. But when she was ready to finally give him what he wanted, she paused for just a moment to consider orientation. She was certain positioning him to face the mirror would be too much for this first time together, but there would be others, she was sure now.

Other times to see the exquisite pain she knew would soon drip down his face as she wielded the apparatus and gave him every inch he asked for. She ran a hand up his back and grabbed onto his shoulder for more leverage as she worked him into a frenzy. He was bucking back into her and the moans that drifted from his lips were music to her ears. All the practice and care she’d taken, learning how to please a lover this way were paying off.

She knew how it felt, knew how he was riding each high and low. Watched him relax into his pleasure, at times letting her control him completely before he shifted his hips and dug into the bed with hands and knees to find purchase that would allow him to grind hard onto the sizable dildo she brandished with expertise. She’d go all night like this if he wanted.

As his circuits finally broke, she could see the waves of pleasure begin to ripple along his spine. He was coming furiously hard, perhaps harder than he had in a long time, no matter how many uses this toy of his had gotten on his own. She was that good at sensing and feeling and pushing and pulling exactly how and when and where he needed.

And August definitely needed. That much was abundantly clear as he collapsed fully to the bed, panting and gasping for air as he rode the waves of his lingering orgasm. She could see him twitching and knew the feeling because it was exactly how she felt after everyone of the orgasms he’d given her tonight. Like an explosion of sensation she never wanted to come down from and she’d given that to him finally.

She left him to catch his breath and stepped to the bathroom to run warm water over a soft washcloth and grab a fresh towel on the way back. When he was cleaned and dry, she tucked into the covers with him and pulled him to her, guiding his head to her chest.

“You feel okay? Need anything else right now?” she asked him quietly as her hand drifted up and down his back.

“I wanted to come inside you,” August admitted with an exhausted sigh.

“We’re gonna have a lifetime of that.”

Everything HC Taglist: If this isn't your thing, no hard feelings? (as always, let me know if you want on or off; if you've asked and your aren't here, try me again but know that Tumblr sometimes doesn't let me tag everyone.)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96 @ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoxo @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 @agniavateira @sammat97 @meb79 @kittenofdoomage (as always Rhi. Smooches!)

#august walker fanfiction #august walker #august walker x reader #pornstar!august walker #pornstar!AU #august walker fanfic #august walker!AU #exactly what his heart meant #deandoesthingstome #mine

[hannie-dul-set]

LOVE VOMIT [n.] — the term when you become too full with your feelings too quickly and too frequently that you end up spitting everything out before even getting the chance to digest. this happens to you more often than you’d like to admit— every quarter, actually, ever since starting college. but what can you do when the prospect of falling in love is just too good to say no to? what can you do when maybe the next desert might actually stay inside your system this time?

or, wherein you fall in love with a different guy every season but fail to notice the one that’s been looking at you the whole year.

PAIRING. choi soobin x female! reader (ft. the rest of txt x reader). GENRE. college! au, orgmate! soobin, strangers to friends to lovers, slice of life, romance, humor, mild angst, comfort (no hurt), SLOWBURN, featuring some members of seventeen, enhypen, and le sserafim. WARNINGS. reader is shorter than soobin, swearing, drinking, kissing, unrequited feelings, annoying org jargon. WORD COUNT. 36k. TAGLIST. @stellz581​ @michipan​ @goldennika​​ @taekwondoes​​ @cerealdreamwriter​​

NOTE. this fic is a five-in-one but it’s obvious endgame is (hint: look at the header). thoroughly enjoyed projecting all my past crushes into my dear tubatu boys haha i hope no one i know personally reads this haha.

some of the scenes were lifted from my own personal experiences HUAHAH have fun guessing which ones are real (but embellished) and made up for the sake of the story 😎. anyhow, this is long. this is slow. but i do hope the payoff at the end is worth watching soobin’s year long suffering when he finally gets the girl 😭 hope to hear your thoughts on this. enjoy!

reposted because tumblr is an ass.

THE TIME IS SPRING. A soft musk in the air, freshly bloomed flowers lining the sidewalks, and the start of a new semester. There’s something gentle about springtime, reminiscent of crisp blankets straight from the dryer with lavender seeping into its cotton folds, and sunlight leaking through pleated sheer curtains. The season is for cherry blossoms and picnic baskets, outings and first loves. You’ve always associated these things with spring, however none of these sensibilities are present tonight.

Instead of clear skies and bright sunlight, the view through the diner windows is lit up by artificial lights and signages in the middle of a March evening. There’s no lilac nor daisies in the air, but cheap beer and the savory smell of fried chicken. It’s noisy, it’s loud, and it’s far from the gentleness of spring, but you’ve never felt more alive at this time of the year.

‘Why did you join Shutter.TXT?’ reads the sheet of paper sitting on your table. You’re all smiles as you listen to the answers of those sitting around you, mindlessly nodding along after being three glasses in. Tonight is an orientation-slash-welcome party for the organization you impulsively joined upon entering the university.

Because photography is my passion...because I want to explore other fields…because, because, because.

The answers carousel around the table, and honest to god, you stopped listening at some point because it’s getting repetitive. You don’t understand the purpose of this activity. Why else would you join a club for photography, videography, and editing if not for photography, videography, and editing?

“Are you kids having fun?”

You perk up. The empty smiles you’ve been giving become brighter, eyes crinkling at the corners. Spring came belatedly tonight, and it came in the form of your extremely pretty senior appearing behind your seat, and you’re instantly all the more conscious about your posture when he leans down to check in on your table. He cranes his head to look at you with a smile. “Is it your turn?” he asks. The back of your neck is burning.

“Ah, yes,” you cough, clearing your throat to introduce your name. “I major in public administration. I know it’s pretty far from my discipline, but I decided to join Shutter.TXT because I didn’t want to be constrained in one field throughout college. I’m sure this organization will make my university experience a lot more exciting and interesting.”

Lies. You joined because of the very face that’s smiling at you this very moment.

“I look forward to working with you.”

He leaves a pat on your shoulder before moving on to the table next to yours. You feel like passing out.

The first time you saw Choi Beomgyu was during the organization festival after the freshmen orientation. You left the auditorium and made your way to the courtyard, taking a peek at the orgs and clubs your university was offering. The moment your eyes caught him advertising the newly founded organization right by the entrance, you didn’t need to consider the rest of the booths and signed up your name. You didn’t even know the name of the organization back then, only finding out after you received an email confirming your registration. Lucky enough for you, you have some editing experience, so you don’t have to risk making a fool out of yourself.

But it seems like you aren’t the only one with the same ulterior motives. Your eyes naturally followed your senior as he switched to the next table. “I’m only here because of you, seonbae,” you hear from one of them, and Beomgyu only laughs in response before moving on to the next group.

You mask your bitter expression by taking a chug from your glass. You need to work harder. Before even being a potential love interest to your evidently popular flower boy upperclassman, you need to become an indispensable member to Shutter in order to— at the very fucking least— have him remember your name. The elections for officers are next week and you’ll try your darndest to grab a position. Preferably, one that’ll make you work closely with Beomgyu.

“Um, hello.”

Your attention is snagged by the person sitting in front of you. Admittedly, you haven’t been paying any mind to the rest of the newly recruited members, eyes always gravitating toward Beomgyu and his tendency to jump from table to table, corner to corner, so you’ve haven’t noticed that the boy sitting in front of you is also pretty good looking. His face reminds you of a bunny— soft features all around with dark bangs falling just above his eyes. He’s wearing a pink cardigan with shoulders tightly squeezed against his torso as if he’s trying to shrink his gigantic frame but miserably failing.

In other words, another pretty boy. But your eyes are set on a different pretty boy, so your heart isn’t stirred completely.

“My name is Choi Soobin. I’m a second year computer science student. Photo, video, and graphics editing has been my hobby since high school,” he introduces with a tiny smile before following it up with an even tinier bow. “It’s nice to meet all of you!”

Then your tables are reshuffled and you don’t see him again for the rest of the night.

You leave the restaurant after a few more table shuffles to get some fresh air. You’re already starting to get tipsy, getting a hit straight in the liver of how college get togethers are going to be in future. The night is cold with only a cardigan to keep you warm. Maybe you should’ve chosen something thicker since it’s still early in the season, but this is the cutest outfit in your closet and you were dead set on making a good impression.

“It’s getting pretty stuffy inside, isn’t it?”

Apparently, you aren’t the only one who decided to sneak out into the alley beside the fried chicken place the org rented. You turn around, arms crossed together for more warmth, and see a girl approaching your hiding spot. “Sorry. I’m not intruding, am I?”

“Not at all,” you smile at her. “I don’t think we ever shared a table earlier, right?”

She shakes her head. “I’m Kim Yura. Freshman.”

“Hey, me too!” You proceed to introduce yourself, and the both of you hit off almost immediately. You exchanged majors, numbers, and mindless small talk including your shared misfortune of having zero friends in college so far.

“Holy crap, you don’t know how glad I am to have run into you like this. I joined Shutter on a whim and knew literally zero people in there and I was too nervous to socialize with so many people,” Yura confesses with a sigh, leaning against the same concrete wall as you. She turns her head to look at you. “Before I left, they were talking about going for round two at The Rooftop. Are you gonna join?”

“I think I’ll pass.” You wouldn’t have made an escape if you weren’t tired. Your social battery is depleting by the second, and Yura is the only person you know so far.

“I heard the seniors will be paying. Mingyu seonbae, Beomgyu seonbae, Jina seon—”

“On second thought, let’s go!” You grab Yura’s wrist and march back into the restaurant with a new burst of energy. There’s no harm in socializing more. You need to put yourself out there anyway if you want to be elected to a position. Strike while the iron is hot, as they say— while you’re still in the early stages of your first year in university and deadlines, paperworks, and assignments haven’t body slammed you into the dirt yet.

It’s the beginning of spring. the season for starting fresh and starting anew. You chose to begin your life in college by searching for a romance you’ve never had the chance to experience in highschool. And romance doesn’t happen if you just sit and wait around all day.

You’re going to chase it, and it begins with going to a cheap rooftop bar in the middle of Seoul and drinking a few too many drinks for you to handle.

Okay. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest idea considering you woke up in your apartment with no recollection of how you got home, save for a message from Yura to text her once you’ve woken up, but at least you managed to collect some numbers and friend requests from a handful of other orgmates while your social skills were tampered by alcohol. Those numbers included Beomgyu’s. You dare call this a success.

Still, org life is secondary to academics no matter how much more fun it is over the latter. The only thing you receive from the Shutter group chat is a good luck message for the first week of classes and some idle conversations here and there. You’re on the way to your first class after telling Kim Mingyu, the organization’s founder, to eat shit and choke on his lunch.

“Morning.” You look up from your iPad to see Kang Taehyun take the seat next to your seat in the lecture hall. You’ve met him at the orientation, and honest to god he intimidated you then. He was the guy that kept asking questions to the moderator about anything and everything. He still intimidates you, but you’re determined to not be a friendless loser throughout the four years of your bachelor’s degree, so you greet him back.

“I asked some seniors if they can share their notes for our Intro class,” you mention. “I can send it to the group chat later once I organize them.”

“Really?” he says. “Are you close with any of our seniors? I would’ve done the same if I knew at least one of them.”

“No,” you grin. “Survival over shame. But I think I already have a pre-positioned target on my back even before the welcome party.”

Taehyun shakes his head with a laugh, and you oddly feel proud of yourself. “I’ll have your back, don’t worry.”

Some of your other classmates overhear the conversation. You grace your blessings upon them as well and a small group begins to form in the middle of the lecture hall right before your professor walks in to take attendance. You spend the class diligently taking notes because although you might be a little lovestruck and heart-eyes for a certain person from the building next to yours, you’re not revolving your entire life around him. Sort of. You’re going to pass by the club room later in case he’s there.

He’s not. It’s just Mingyu and your short-term beef with him for taking unflattering photos of your hammered ass last Friday. You don’t hide your disappointment when you see him. He calls you over to take a seat next to him in front of the computer.

“You’re good at graphic design, right?”

“I have experience.” You pull out a chair and take a look at the monitor. SHUTTER.TXT ELECTIONS. This Thursday at Mirage Building Room 104, 4:00 p.m. Be there or be square.

You shoot Mingyu a look of judgment. “What?”

“You should stick to camerawork, boss. Move your ass.”

He swivels away and you take over the mouse and keyboard, doing your best to fix the layout of the publication material. “Can first-years be elected?”

“Why?” he’s playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sometimes you forget that he’s your org’s founder. “You eyeing a position?”

Yes. Next to Choi Beomgyu. “Maybe?”

Mingyu grins. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry. I’m so happy to have such a dedicated member to exploit and work wageless. Thank you so much in advance for your service.”

You have nothing to thank Kim Mingyu for because although he did nominate you on the day of the elections which secured your spot, you were elected as Assistant Layout Director. Beomgyu is currently making a dumb thank you speech in front of the lecture hall for being the Videography Director and everyone is cheering. You’re moping in your seat until all of the newly elected officers are called to the front for a picture taking.

“Please stand in the order of your positions! Alright, perfect!”

Click!

The amount of times you’ve been blocked today is harrowing. You’re wearing a smile, holding out a thumbs up while posing for a picture, but you want to throw a tantrum. There’s a giant body standing in between you and Beomgyu. Your tears are internal and eternal.

“Three more!”

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and your feet are moving by themselves. Rather, someone is moving you. You look up to see the bunny boy you shared a table with last orientation, now on your right when you swear he was just on your left earlier, in between you and Beomgyu. Wait a minute, you realize. You’re so touched you could cry, but someone from the front yells your name.

“Stop looking at Soobin and look at the camera!”

It’s followed by the eruption of insinuating noises from the rest of your orgmates, and your face grows hot from embarrassment. You don’t acknowledge their teasing, save for a middle finger directed at Shutter’s Founder-slash-newly-elected-Chairperson, then you collect your composure, strike a cute peace sign for the camera, and try your best to make it not so obvious that you’re thrilled to at the very least be standing next to Beomgyu for the photos.

“Alright! Thank you, everyone!”

The lecture hall breaks into claps and conversation as you all scatter around after the picture taking. You scan the crowd for the mop of black hair that did you a favor earlier, belatedly remember that he’s the Layout Director and your direct superior. You spot him with Mingyu, looking mildly terrorized at the older male’s affection. When Mingyu sees you approaching them, you can see the heinous intent in his smile when he greets you. “Oh, you’re here.”

“Congrats, Chair,” you declare blankly, then brighten your smile when you look at Soobin. “Congrats to you too, director! I will do my best to assist you.”

He receives your outstretched hand with a shake and bows politely. Mingyu clicks his tongue at your exchange. “Ey, how can you make your preference so obvious?” He’s very obviously referring to you, extending the teasing from earlier, and you wear the most threatening look on your face that you can manage while still holding hands with your innocently smiling colleague. You’re dead if you keep that up, you try to signal with your eyes. Mingyu only gives you a wink and walks away with a pat on Soobin’s shoulder. If Beomgyu gets the wrong idea from their teasing and closes off all your chances with him, you’re going to kill Kim Mingyu first.

“I’m sorry. Mingyu hyung likes to mess around a lot.” You turn your attention back to Soobin, heart clenching. Poor boy doesn’t need to apologize on behalf of his demonic senior. You shake your head and tell him it’s fine,

“Officers, please stay for a quick meeting! The rest may leave. Thank you all for attending!”

You give Soobin a quick smile before running off to where the rest are gathering, bumping into Yura whom you gave a quick hug. She was also elected. Program management committee member. You both stand next to each other as you listen to Mingyu’s announcements. There will be an orientation for officers this weekend and then you’d have to start planning and organizing for Shutter’s first major event— an acquaintance party slash mini workshop of sorts. One of the officers asks “didn’t we already have a welcome party the other week?” Mingyu defends by saying there’s no harm in getting all the members to bond together as often as we could. You’re sure he’s just looking for an excuse to party, but you’re not complaining.

“See you all at the org office this Saturday. Get home safe!”

“We’re going to COEX. Jake and Yunjin brought their car. You’re coming with us.”

Your shoulders slump, and your heavy bag drops to the floor. You give your friends an incredulous look. “I have a meeting. You guys said you were too lazy to eat out yesterday, but now you all have the energy when I have a fucking meeting.”

Taehyun tells you better luck next time before slamming the passenger’s seat right in front of your face. Sunghoon gives you a pat on the head before following inside. Kazuha promises to get you takeout and stop by your club office later. Though you’re thankful that you managed to find a group of friends from your year and major, moments like these make you want to eat sand.

“Be honest. You can totally skip the meeting but you’re flaking out on us because you want to see your crush.” Jay earns a kick on his ass before he retreats into Yunjin’s car. You wave them goodbye and dust off your bag, slinging it over your shoulder again and make your way to the office.

“You’re here!”

When you open the door, Beomgyu greets you with a smile. There’s a camera dangling on his neck and he’s carrying a tripod bag across his torso. You feel your mood instantly shooting up, like a flower bed is growing inside your ribcage with how ticklish you feel in your chest. Jay was right. You actually have nothing important to do today besides errands, probably. God, you’re down bad.

“Perfect timing! Can you come with me for a sec?” Your head automatically nods like you’re stupid, but you don’t mind the fact that you look stupid because Beomgyu beams, and you’re happy if he’s happy. He wants to take you somewhere and you’re buzzing in your shoes at the mere thought of it. Flaking on your friends is the best decision you’ve made today and Jay can suck on his left toenail.

“Soobin hyung! I need you, too. You can continue working later.”

You hear a whine from inside the room. Soobin shows up beside Beomgyu with a scrunched up look of annoyance, which immediately gets replaced with surprise when he spots you by the doorway. He gives you a flustered bow and greeting, promptly adjusting the black-rimmed glasses resting on his nose.

“Mingyu hyung says we need to present an introduction video for the executive board for the event next week. I’m doing it by position and you two are next on my list. Let’s find a good place to shoot for the both of you.”

Oh. You press your lips into a smile, nodding. “I think the gazebo near the Communications building would be great.”

“Perfect. Let’s go!”

You’re the dumbass for jumping into conclusions and thinking that Beomgyu would have a reason for the both of you to be alone together. You’re walking across the campus with your crush and the guy your Chairperson is teasing you with. Maybe you should have just gone along with your friends. You heard a fried ice cream store opened at COEX the other day. The cold desert on your tongue would’ve immediately cured your embarrassment and shame.

“I’ll get your solo shots first. Soobinie hyung, give me a cute pose.”

You watch the two boys bicker while they shoot the video clips. You remember that Beomgyu is majoring in EMC, so they must be close since they come from the same department. “Hyung, look this way.” Soobin seems to follow Beomgyu’s direction despite his grumbling.

It’s easy to get lost in thought while watching Beomgyu in his element. The camera isn’t focused on him, but you still feel like he's the focal point of the frame captured by your field of vision. There are flowering trees all around the surrounding areas of the gazebo, and the white petals falling from above dance around him.

He’s really so pretty. So pretty and dreamy but evidently unattainable.

“Be back in a sec. Good job, hyung! You can sit down now.”

Beomgyu runs off to greet some of his friends that have just passed by. You watch as he’s laughing along with them, an unreasonable feeling of disappointment forming in the pits of your stomach. He’s always got people around him— org members, friends, and people you don’t know. It’s impossible to squeeze yourself into the picture when the frame is already full.

“Do you want to work with him instead?”

“Huh?” You look up to see Soobin towering over your pathetic frame on the bench. He takes a seat beside you, but takes a moment before changing his mind and adding more distance between the both of you with an awkward cough.

“Beomgyu,” he adds. “You’re probably disappointed that you weren’t elected as his assistant instead, right?”

You look at him, horrified.

“Haha, what do you mean?”

Sure, you haven’t been the most discreet with your heart-eyes for the guy, but you don’t think you’re that transparent. You want to question him further— what makes you say that? Have I been really fucking obvious?— but then your palms become sweaty, and you remember he switched places with you the other day and that’s how you managed to stand next to your crush for the photo. He knows. He definitely knows you have a crush on his friend and there’s a chance that he might fucking expose you.

Before you can get on your knees, beg him to shut his mouth and spare your rejection, Beomgyu returns and tells you to head on up to the gazebo.

“I also called the rest of the guys so we can finish everything in one go,” he says while adjusting the camera on the tripod.

You’re nervous, Self conscious to have such a pretty man judge your level of photogenic-ness. Thankfully, Beomgyu is kind enough to give you directions sweetly along with expressions of encouragement. When you’re done with your solos, he tells Soobin to join you.

The discomfort on your expression is evident because Beomgyu drops the camera, revealing the dissatisfied pout on his face. “Can you two move a little closer?” You do, albeit robotically. Soobin is kind enough to stop nudging himself closer right before your shoulders could bump into one another. Beomgyu still isn’t satisfied. “Can you two…please act natural?”

How are you supposed to act natural when you’re about to shit your pants from discomfort? You look up at Soobin and he’s clearly as uncomfortable as you are. You can see the sweat droplets trickling down his neck, throat bobbing after a tense swallow. He’s hesitant to even lay a hand on you, lagging midair above your shoulder like a nervous raincloud. Your eyes gloss over his face. He drops his hand and gives you a hesitant smile. You’ve never noticed he has dimples until now.

“Please— please excuse me.”

Suddenly, you feel an added weight on your shoulders, and you stumble forward. Your face bumps into his chest. Your eyes widen in alarm. You can hear something loud thumping in your ears.

“Better! That’s great—”

Oh. It’s just your heartbeat.

“—perfect!”

Shit. Oh no. This doesn’t make sense. You have a crush on Beomgyu so it doesn’t make sense that your heart is beating like crazy for somebody else— not to mention someone who knows you like Beomgyu. It feels like the thumping just grows louder and louder and you’re feeling dizzy. You’re sure you would’ve fallen into the wooden flooring of the gazebo if Soobin isn’t keeping you steady right now. Then, from your peripheral, you can see some of your orgmates nearing the area, so you quickly move away without a second thought.

“Did we get enough shots?” you yell out for Beomgyu to hear.

“Yup! You both look great!”

Immediately, you patter off, hopping down the elevated surface and into the fresh soil. You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding with a hard pat on your chest. Keep it together, you scold yourself. Amongst those who just arrived is Yura, who immediately brings joy to your face when you see her. You pick up your pace to go greet her, but you slowly come to a halt when you notice her attention is deeply engaged elsewhere.

When you trace her line of vision, you spot her looking at Beomgyu and Soobin. When Beomgyu walks away to greet the other, her eyes are still stuck on the same spot, a faint tinge of pink coloring her cheekbones, and she jogs into the direction where she’s been looking at.

Your chest loosens in relief. You swivel your feet, moving towards Beomgyu who jogs up to you upon notice. “Do you want to see?” he asks, and you nod in response.

Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed because embarrassment strikes you hard in the gut that you sink to the ground at the first three seconds of the first clip he shows you. “Oh my god,” you cover your face, squatting on the grass. “Stop. Okay. Nevermind, I don’t want to see anymore.”

“Why not? You look pretty in all of them.”

The inhale you take gets caught in your throat and you nearly choke on nothing. Your palms start to grow warm from the heat emanating off your face. Holy shit. “Don’t— don’t do that.”

You hear him laugh. “It’s true though.”

Peeking through your fingers, you see him in the same squatting position right before your eyes, and you groan to hide yourself again. Even though your system is about to explode with the amount of ticklish flowers sprouting, you can’t help but feel relieved. Yes. This is how it should be. What happened earlier was only the heat of the moment and your heart was just carried away by the scene. You also have a feeling that Yura has a crush on, or is at the very least interested in Soobin, so you can bury that possibility in the soil immediately. You’ll scatter some seeds over it and hope that the daisies can be enough to mask its shame.

Your name is called by Beomgyu, and you begrudgingly force yourself to get up. Beomgyu lends you a hand. “Myungho hyung is getting us drinks from the vending machine. What would you like?”

“Um. Sprite, please.”

“Hyung! Get us two Sprites. Thanks!”

Your fingertips are still buzzing from when he pulled you up by the hand. You stretch out your joints then ball them into a tight fist, throwing your head back with a sigh. Ice cream sounds really good right now. You text Jake if they’re still at the mall and if he can pick you up in ten minutes. He says he’s on the way.

“Choi Beomgyu is out of my league, isn’t he?”

You receive a chorus of yeses from your beloved friends. It’s the day of the event and you squeezed in lunchtime at McDonald’s before heading to the venue to make it up to them. You’ve been busy the whole week with Shutter preparing for it and throughout those seven days, the times you’ve managed to talk or interact with Beomgyu at all is less than two digits.

“It’s not that you’re too ugly for him,” Sunghoon gives his unsolicited opinion, waving a single french fry in the air before throwing it into his mouth. “He just has a vibe, you know? That sort of untouchable vibe you feel from typically popular people. We’re IG mutuals and he gets a million anonymous confessions a day. You’re better off looking for someone else.”

“Jay is also good looking, aren’t you into him?” suggests Taehyun, and you offer him a grimace in response. Jay doesn’t hesitate to preview his own disgust. “Then again. That’d be incest.”

“If you want to get over him, it’s best to stop seeing him.”

“But she has to attend their event later,” says Kazuha in response to Yunjin’s advice. They all offer you a moment of silence in grief. You completely lose your appetite.

“I’m off. Mingyu told me to come early to help with any last minute preparations.”

“Where’s the thing?” Jake asks as you pick up your bag. “I can give you a ride home later, if you’d like.”

“Perriot Bowl. And it’s fine. I’m sure we’ll be finishing late so you don’t have to bother.”

“Call me if you change your mind.”

You give him a smile and excuse yourself out. It’s one bus ride to Perriot Bowl, and you don’t remember which one of the idiots thought that a bowling alley would be the best place to hold an acquaintance party. Your org is new, so it has zero funds, therefore you all had to pull money out of your pockets to rent the place and pay for other expenses.

At least everyone seems to be enjoying, you think as you sip on your plastic cup filled with coke, the venue’s shiny floors slowly being matted away by dozens and dozens of bodies. The large, overhead lights are shut off as per Myungho’s request, and the only things illuminating the bowling alley are the neon wall washers and LED strips lining the lanes in pink, purple, and blue. There’s vibrant music playing through the speakers. Your eyes land on Beomgyu helping Soobin set up the technicals.

“Ah, ah, ah. Testing, testing.”

The area hushes, and all eyes are on your chairperson standing in front of a projector screen. He breaks into a smile. “Ah, wait. Why am I suddenly nervous?”

You snort. He gets over it quickly and starts his opening spiel, welcoming the members and giving a rundown of today’s activities, starting with the introduction of officers in which you hid behind Yura in embarrassment when your face appeared through the projector screen— mainly because of Mingyu’s hollering. Somehow, you have unintentionally wiggled into your chairperson’s favor by bullying and swearing at him every time you cross paths. That shaves a lot of effort off your goal of being an integral org member.

“Feel free to drop by the snack table at the back, but before everyone can freely play some games on the lanes, let’s start with our prepared activities first!”

That’s your signal to move to the front, taking the red bandana laid down on the table near Mingyu and standing next to Soobin. You look up at him and muster a smile. “Just so you know, I’m pretty competitive.”

Soobin laughs. “I don’t like losing, either.”

Frankly, you’ve been weary about him for a while, but throughout the past week of preparing for today’s event, he hasn’t shown a hint of snitching on you, so you managed to be less tense around him. The both of you are also stuck together for the rest of your term, so it won’t help if you’re always going to be uncomfortable around him.

You give him a smile, and he returns the same expression. It also helps that Choi Soobin is very easy on the eyes.

“Please check the color of your name tags and form a line in front of the Directors that match your color. They’ll be your team leaders.”

Once the teams are divided, Mingyu reads out the game mechanics: bowling but with a mix of charades. Six lanes are open for the six teams. The rules are the same as regular bowling but there’s a time limit and in order for the players to actually play, they have to guess the words you’re acting out first. It’s a loud, screaming mess with people shouting over each other and those watching having the time of their lives watching you all make fools of yourselves. The problem with an org like this is that everyone has cameras. You ignore the shutter sounds as you disregard all shame trying to act out slipping on a banana peel on the way to a blind date and your team member runs past you to make her turn and score a strike— bagging your team’s win.

“First place goes to the reds!”

You’re screaming, cheering, jumping around with your teammates and you let out a noise when your back bumps into someone. You turn around to see Soobin clad in your team color who simmers down his bouncing when he meets eyes with you, settling for a breathless smile.

“Congrats,” he tells you. You grin at him, elbowing his arm.

“You’re pretty good at getting washed up on an island.”

His ears match the color of his jacket. “Aah, let’s forget that, let’s— look, look, Mingyu hyung is calling for us.”

He actually is, so you let it slide, allowing yourself to be bulldozed into the crowd by the shoulders by Soobin as Mingyu gives out the instructions for the next activity— an on the spot photo challenge with the theme youth.

“You guys have one hour starting…now! Don’t forget that our anonymous confession box is still open! You can find the link in our group chat and we’ll be reading the first batch of confessions before we present your entries. Have fun and good luck!”

When you reach Mingyu’s side, he slumps with a sigh after dropping the microphone. You give him a pat on the back. “Hang in there.”

“This is so tiring. How do people host for a living?!” he whines, stomping his feet. “Oh, the laptop and equipment is set up over there. You can start collecting photo entries as soon as they’re ready.”

You nod and move to your station. It gets exhausting quickly— inserting flash drives, connectors, and SD cards, selecting, downloading, uploading files and photos and it doesn’t seem like the line in front of your table is getting shorter, only longer by the moment. “Need any help?” You look up to see your lifesaver, Yura, and ask if she can take over for a moment.

“I’ll go get something to eat,” you tell her.

“I just need to transfer their files right?”

“Yup, yup.”

“Alright,” she says. “Girl, go get some rest. There’s only fifteen minutes left so you can leave the remaining entries to me.”

You happily hop off to the snack table. Your last meal was earlier with your friends and you haven’t eaten since then. Coupled with all the shit you’ve been doing since you got to the venue, your stomach is already dying and it’s only four in the afternoon. Myungho is in charge of watching over the snacks. He’s wearing a pitiful look as he passes you a can of sprite and opens the box of pizza before you.

“Are you planning on going after Mingyu’s position, or something?” he says. “You’re working too hard.”

You scrunch your nose, taking a bite from the slice. “Can’t it be because I’m just trying to impress someone?”

He raises a brow. “Who?”

“I didn’t peg you to be the nosy type, seonbae.”

“Well, whoever it is, I hope it’s working,” he shrugs. “Else you’re just working yourself to the bone without any payoff and end up disappointing yourself.”

Ouch? He didn’t need to give you a reality check like that because the entire event, you haven’t even talked to Beomgyu. Not once. You have made your attempts, but he’s always with someone every time you see him and you’ve not close enough to interrupt.

Myungho notices you frowning at your pizza. He clicks his tongue. “If you came here just to lament about your love life, please do the food a favor and leave. They’re getting soiled by your mood.”

“I’m going, I’m going. You’re so mean.”

The can crunches in your hand and you toss it to the bin on the way back to your station in case Yura is having some trouble. “The next one is from— oh, Lee Chan! I thought this was supposed to be anonymous?” It seems like they started reading the messages already. You can’t hear properly what Lee Chan said and to whom because of all the noise, and you can’t find yourself to care because on your way back to Yura, you spot Beomgyu in the direction you’re walking towards, and he’s alone.

He notices you and gives you a smile and wave. You pick up your pace to a jog.

“Eyy, what’s up?” he greets you. “Aren’t you tired yet? You’ve been working since you got here. I’ll ask Mingyu hyung to give some of your work to others if you want a break.”

“It’s alright. Yura covered for me at the submission table earlier, so I’m all done for today,” you assure him. “I’m just itching to knock down some pins already.”

He hums. “You must be pretty good.”

You grin. “I don’t want to brag but—”

Your conversation gets cut short by the feedback squeal of the microphone. You wince, the ear-splitting noise going on for a good three seconds before it gets cut off. You hear a cough through the speakers. Mingyu is onstage looking a little flustered. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. Anyway, let’s move on to the last message for now. This one’s for— holy shit—”

You hear people laughing, but you turn your attention back to Beomgyu, eagerly waiting to resume your talk.

“Ahem. To Shutter’s Assistant Layout Director.”

Your eyes widen. As if that is’t enough, Mingyu continues reading, and your cheeks grow warmer and warmer by each word he utters into the microphone, amplified by the dozens of speakers strewn around the venue.

“I think I have a crush on you.”

There’s silence, and you can sense too many eyes staring at you. It’s too early for summer but you feel the sun on your face, blazing and unforgiving. Oh my god. You want to hurl yourself into the atmosphere. Oh my god, if this is a joke, you’re going to murder a man.

“Before anyone misunderstands, this confession is from codename Shinbi. Our Assistant Layout Director may be pretty and hardworking, but my heart belongs to someone else, I hope that’s clear to everyone. Anyway—”

“Looks like you have a secret admirer on the loose.” Beomgyu nudges you. “Have any idea who it might be?”

You see, your delusional ass is hoping that it’s him, but the rational part of your brain is telling you to be realistic and stop being a stupid. “Haha, no,” you reply. It could be just someone from the many members of your org that you’ve never talked to. If they really liked you, they would step out and quit hiding behind that dumb codename.

Still, the warmth in your cheeks hasn’t disappeared yet. If shit goes to complete shit with Beomgyu, maybe this Shinbi guy can save your failing college romance. You’re not dumb enough to invest in something so evidently and palpably hopeless. You knew from the get-go– from the moment you saw him at the courtyard in the first week of school— that he isn’t someone you can attain.

Beomgyu is called out by one of his friends again, and he gives you an apologetic smile before screaming back at them and running off.

“Sorry! Text me if you need anything!”

You wave him goodbye and your arm limply falls to your side. Right. Maybe it is time to give up. There are far more important things to your life than some pretty boy from your org, anyway. It’s only a matter of time before classes come in full swing, and you won’t even have the time to think about him anymore.

“Can I tell you something?”

Yura looks up from the torn piece of paper in her hand, containing the list of orders the slave drivers from your org asked you to buy from the cafe in front of campus. It’s a place everyone from your university frequents, so it’s understandably full most of the day. Your friend looks at you attentively. This isn’t the most appropriate place to empty out your feelings, but your orders are taking too long and the buzzer is getting cold in your hands.

“I had a crush on Choi Beomgyu.” Yura lets out a hard cough. “He was the reason why I joined the Shutter in the first place.”

She’s staring at you.

“But I’m over him now.”

Speechless, with widened eyes from surprise.

“If you have any cute friends, please introduce me to them.”

“Wait, wait— one at a time! Oh my god.” Yura exhales, trying to piece together the three bombs you dropped on the table. “You have a crush on Beomgyu seonbae?! Had a crush on him?! If he’s the reason you joined, you’re not resigning, right?!”

“No way,”.you shake your head. “He might’ve been the reason, but I’ve got you guys to make me stay.”

The buzzer vibrates in your hands, and the both of you get up to pick up your orders. “The work is fun. Mingyu is annoying sometimes, but he’s generally a supportive Chair. I’ve gotten closer with the other guys, too, so I don’t see a reason why I should quit,” you continue. Once you get out of the cafe, your phone also buzzes. Yura notices the face you’re making and asks what’s wrong. “Nevermind. Mingyu is just annoying. Let’s just hurry up. The child is throwing a tantrum and needs his caffeine.”

“Are you okay, though?” she asks as you’re walking down the sidewalk back to campus. “I mean. If there’s anything else troubling you in Shutter, you can always vent to me.”

You smile at her. “Thanks.”

The both of you continued walking in pleasant silence. Right when you reach Mirage Building, Yura suddenly stops with a gasp. “So that’s why you joined round two at The Rooftop that night!”

Your brows knit in confusion.

“Because Beomgyu was there!”

“Oh, fuck you.” You feel like swallowing yourself. “I did so many stupid things that night and Mingyu has all of it one his fucking phone.”

When you arrive at the office, Mingyu isn’t even there. It’s dark and near empty save for one person and the glow of the computer screen. Soobin turns to the doorway when you two enter and scrambles on his feet to help you carry all the drinks you bought. You turn on the lights and poor boy flinches, prompting you to turn them off again.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

“It’s alright. You can turn it back on.” You don’t. Instead your squinted eyes scan the room because maybe your god damned senior is hiding somewhere to fuck with you. Soobin notices this, even in the dark.“Mingyu hyung and Myungho hyung left to take care of something urgent for their class,” he explains. “Jina noona and the rest went to get us some snacks. They’ll be back in a bit. You two can just wait.”

A huff leaves your lips and your mouth twitches. “He texted me to hurry up but his ass isn’t even here. Hold on, where’s his drink— I’m leaving it outside. What an unbelievable idiot.”

The door slams in your stomping wake and you put Mingyu’s americano right next to the plastic bag of takeout boxes from yesterday right by the door. There is no point in doing this. You’re just annoyed. You’re still grumbling curses when you stomp back in, but promptly hush yourself with the scene you’re walking in on.

Well. Nothing significant is actually happening. You watch Yura as she’s leaning on the table, an earnest spark in her eyes as she and Soobin converse over a movie you’ve never watched. You press your lips together, holding back a grin and trying to make as little noise as possible when you settle down on the springy couch in the middle of the room. Admittedly, you confided in her about Beomgyu earlier with the hopes that she’d also give hints about what you suspect is her crush on Soobin.

But then, maybe you’re just romance obsessed and attempt to find meaning in everything. You won’t know unless she tells you, but you don’t want to pry.

“Oh no. Wait, I’m sorry I have to go,” you hear her say. She hurries over to the door and pauses in front of you on the way. “Professor Han wants to meet us immediately for a paper consultation. Gosh, he just does whatever wants.”

You wave her goodbye, and now it’s just you and Soobin in the Shutter office.

He’s standing by the wooden table shoved into the left corner of the decently sized office, organizing the drinks you and Yura ordered. It’s a good thing that it’s dark— this way you can’t see the trash and wrappers on the floor, likely left by the people who went out earlier, but it’s just as likely that they’re garbage from last week. The worn out sofa you’re sitting on is in the middle of the room, up against the storage room wall.

“What are you working on?” you ask, taking a peek at the open computer at the right side of the room. There’s photoshop on the window and you can see some photos from the acquaintance party last week.

“Oh. The pubmats for the winners from the photo contest last time,” he says while walking to you. You step back to let him settle back on his seat in front of the desk. He places his coffee next to the monitor, and the swivel chair rocks back and forth as he fidgets with the layout.

You cross your arms over the chair’s backrest, leaning forward as you peek above his hair to watch him work. He stops moving. The stray strands of hair on his head tickle your nose.

“How about the officers post thingy that Chair mentioned the other day?”

“It’s— it’s in progress, but hyung told me to finish this one first.”

Squinting, you narrow into the cursor. It’s shaking, and your eyes curiously gaze down on Soobin’s hand on the mouse— also shaking, ever the slightest. Maybe he had too much coffee. Sympathy wells in your stomach and you pull yourself back. You take over the seat next to him and turn on the computer.

“Send me the psd for the other one. I’ll work on it.”

Technically, you should be working on it. It’s your job. You’re literally his assistant, but you haven’t been helping him properly lately since you’ve been filling in the spots of the officers who have been inactive lately. You’re collecting fees, accompanying Mingyu for partnership meetings, and sometimes you’re even the one scheduling posts on your social media accounts. But you failed to do the duties assigned to your actual position.

You open the file, and study his initial design before jumping in. “Is it okay if I change the fonts?”

He hums. “Go ahead.”

All you can hear are mouse and keyboard clicks in the office with the occasional creaks from the old, worn out chairs the both of you are sitting on. The blue light is starting to strain your eyes, so you stretch your back and rest them for a moment while waiting for some elements to download.

“You spelled my name wrong.”

You pause mid stretch, turning to see Soobin looking at your monitor. The screen is displaying your work-in-progress for the pubmat, officers listed from top to bottom. Your eyes scroll down until you spot his name. Chou Soobin, Layout Director. You snort.

“So did you, but I didn’t say anything.” You pull up the history panel on screen, revealing how he skewed your name in a previous version of the file, crossing your arms and leaning back on your chair.  “But anyway, my sincerest apologies, Choi Soobin. C-h-o-i Soobin.”

He looks so wronged, it’s funny. It makes you want to mess with him more.

“That was a typo! And I fixed it. Yours looks like an intentional act of malice,” he defends with an offended tone, but the corners of his lips twitch upwards and it’s infectious. You feign a gasp.

“Is that how you think of me, Choi Soobin? I can sue you for defamation, you know. But since I’m kind and compassionate and understanding, I’ll let it slide.”

“Wow,” he gapes, looking around the empty room for backup. The room is empty. You stifle a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

Today is the day you realize that Choi Soobin is a pretty easy going guy and you’ve got nothing to blame but your paranoia for not getting along with him a lot earlier. If you recall correctly, you also had pretty good chemistry with your team during the bowling game last time. He seems like a good guy. and you’re feeling guilty for thinking that he might tell people about your crush on his friend. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to get it right next time, Choi Soobin. I’ll continue repeating your name until the spelling is ingrained in my brain stem, and— oh. Beomgyu texted.”

Speak the devil and he shall appear. Heck, you were only thinking about him for a good .01 seconds. You press your lips together as you come up with a reply. He’s asking if Mingyu and the rest are also at the org office.

“So,” you hear Soobin clear his throat. “How’s your progress?”

You tilt your head, still typing your reply. “With…?”

“With Beomgyu.”

Suddenly, the phone is on your lap and you make an embarrassing noise. You’re looking at Soobin with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You knew he knew but you didn’t think he’d ask you outright like this. You cough and pick back up your phone, trying to play it cool. “Have I— have I really been obvious?”

“Maybe not?” he replied. “I don’t think anyone would have noticed unless they’re looking closely.”

You continue typing. “So you’ve been looking at me often.”

It’s his turn to be flustered. “N—no, haha. Anyway, Beomgyu is pretty popular, so the competition is brutal. But I can help you if you’d like.”

After pressing send, you straighten your legs on the chair. Your elbows press on your thighs as you lean forward and Soobin flinches back. Now that you’re looking at him closely, you don’t understand why he doesn’t have as much people lining up for him like Beomgyu. He’s actually so pretty it’s unreal. Maybe it’s because he’s less outgoing and prefers to keep to himself— even in Shutter, Soobin only talks to a handful of people on the regular, and you’re sure he only started talking to you because you literally have to work together.

Not that there’s anything wrong with being a private person. Bottomline, his face is a hidden gem and you’re lucky to be the few that can admire him up close.

“What’s the catch?” you raise a brow.

“The...catch?”

There’s a moment of tense silence until you break with a laugh, comfortably leaning back into the chair. Soobin looks confused. “I’m kidding,” you admit, swiveling the chair left and right. “I decided to give up on him.”

You know you don’t have to explain yourself, but you do anyway. Maybe it’s because there’s still a hint of doubt in Soobin’s eyes, or maybe it’s because you want to rationalize yourself. Either way, your mouth runs, and he just listens. “He’s a pretty face, he’s nice to me, and I would’ve been over the moon if there was actually something, but I don’t think I’ll ever get past being just an orgmate. Guys like him should just be admired from afar, you know? He’s like a pretty flower that you always notice in the garden, but if you pluck him from the bushes and bring him to your living room table, he’ll just wilt and die.”

You pause. “Okay. That sounds a little morbid, but you get what I mean. Anyhow, I’m done with him. I’ll get over him quickly. and I’ll find— oh, Jesus fuck!”

A burst of light suddenly breaks into the once dark room and you jump, glaring at the source of the disturbance. Mingyu’s head is peeking through the crack in the doorway. His eyes are so wide you think his eyebrows would fly off.

“Would you knock, please?” you tell him off.

“Oh— oh my, What’s this?” He’s holding up a cheeky, annoying hand to his lips. You want to throw him a shoe. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Welcome back, hyung.” Soobin greets him.

Mingyu is still wearing an exaggerated shocked expression. “Oh? Sorry, were you having a moment? Oopsies, my bad, I’ll just get my coffee and leave, please carry—”

“It’s outside,” you cut him off. He huffs.

“I know you want to be alone with Soobin, but you don’t have to kick me out.”

“Look down.”

He does, and then he gasps in horror when he sees his americano next to the trash. Mingyu looks up at you from the floor, cradling the drink to his chest. “You monster.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Since Mingyu is already here, I’m heading out,” you announce while getting off the chair. Before Mingyu can try to stop you (he’s already shuffling back to his feet), you give Soobin a smile. “Choi Soobin, I’ll finish this at home later and I’ll send it to you so you can check.” You brush past your senior, and just as you’re about to leave, you hear your full name called out from behind.

When you turn around, you see Soobin with a cheeky smile, dimples popping. “Get home safe.”

It takes you a second to reply. “I always get home safe,” you say, and with that the door shuts behind you. As your back presses against the door’s surface, you can hear the muffled conversations of your two seniors inside, but it’s impossible to pick anything up. You give yourself a moment to take a deep breath— inhaling and exhaling to match the rhythm at the back of your head.

You quickly leave before anyone spots you, running off to the library to go over some of your classes. It’s getting loud again, you think. If this keeps up, you’re going to get yourself in trouble.

Shutter is quiet in the months leading up to your April Midterms. The group chats were still noisy from time to time— most often in the late nights when you’re trying to do your readings and study but your notifications keep buzzing, and your FOMO forces you to engage in whatever pointless conversation they’re having. There was one time, when you caught a sore throat and couldn’t speak for a day, and Beomgyu had sent some home remedies his mother always made for him. You almost caved in again. Almost. Especially when he kept checking up on you the following days after.

May flew by just as quickly. Though you only had two required major courses, it was still difficult to get into the swing of things, so you couldn’t join with a lot of Shutter’s weekend activities and instead buried yourself along with your friends in cafes, study hubs, and the library with Finals slowly creeping in.

You managed to dry yourself out of all your feelings for Beomgyu when you celebrated the end exam week at Jay’s condo. They have a video of you sobbing over him after your hammered ass saw his name when he sent a congratulations message to Shutter for surviving the semester.

That marked the end of your crush on him, and the end of spring. The weather is starting to grow warmer, and your cardigans and cotton-jackets find their places in the back end of the closet. You stop noticing the flowers peeking through your apartment window, and instead look forward to the chirping grasshoppers at the signal of the sunset.

A new season is coming. You hope it’s better than the last.

IT’S SUMMER, THE FIRST WEEK OF JULY— but you’re on campus, and it’s hot, and you’ve been sitting on the bench by the courtyard for thirty minutes waiting for Kim Mingyu to show up. The canvas you’ve been hauling with you serves as your umbrella from the sun’s radiation. His message from last night said that the call time is at 8:00 a.m. It’s already a quarter until ten, and you haven’t seen him yet.

There are a few more people on campus besides you, passing through your frozen spot on the courtyard. Still, none of them are your Chairperson. Annoyed, your fingers jab your phone screen and you put the device to your ear. A few rings, then he picks up. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

Before the semester ended, the Shutter officers had a meeting for the organization’s plans, and it was decided that you will be holding an exhibit over the break. You’re here today to give him the 26 x 19 canvas-printed piece you’d submitted for display and help set up the venue. It was a pain in the ass bringing it with you on the bus, and you’re not going to put it off until tomorrow.

You don’t hear anything on his end for a few moments. Then he swears. “Oh shit,” he hisses. “Sorry! I’m out with my classmates for breakfast. I completely forgot, crap.”

“Are you serious? I’ve been waiting since—”

“Just go to the Cultural Center!”

“I don’t know where that is?!” you blurt out, but take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Might I remind you, Chair, that this is only my second month in university. I tried looking for it earlier but my legs got tired and it’s too hot to walk around.” It’s also worth mentioning that you have trouble with directions in general, but that’s something Mingyu shouldn’t know because that’ll give him another bullet to tease you with.

“Fuck.” he says. “Okay. Wait. I’ll ask someone to come help you. Where you at?”

“At the courtyard,” you reply. “Who are you sending?”

He doesn’t tell you and instead cuts the conversation short. “Gotta go. I’ll join you guys later. I’m really sorry, please don’t hit me. Bye. I love you. MwahI” And then the call ends. You’re staring at your call history screen and processing what just happened.

Mingyu says he’s gonna send someone, maybe another officer, to pick up your lost ass and help you to the Cultural Center, so you should just sit here and wait. It would have been better if the bastard actually told you who’s coming so you’d know who you’re looking out for. You sit on the bench under the heat for another five minutes, arms getting tired from lifting the canvas over your head as a sun-shield.

Then something cool touches your cheek. You flinch in surprise and turn around to see Soobin holding a cold water bottle to your face. He greets you by your full name with a click of his tongue. “You could have waited somewhere else, dummy. Do you wanna get a heatstroke?”

Over the past weeks that you and Soobin have been working together, things have definitely become more comfortable. You might have passed out on face-to-face work with the org, but you’ve been doing your part as his assistant without fail— editing birthday pubmats for your members and officers, congratulatory posts, and other announcements layouts that were needed on demand.

“Choi Soobin,” you greet back. “Are you the one Mingyu sent to save me?”

“Let’s get out of here first,” he answers, eyes squinting when he looks up to the sky.

You take the water from him with a thank you, and the bottle cools your palms as you lag behind Soobin on the way to a more shaded area of the campus. “The Center was still closed when I checked earlier. The guard said the staff are still in the process of cleaning it, so we can’t start setting up anyway,” he explains. “Is this your piece?”

His question mellows you out immediately, just when you were about to complain about Mingyu again. Soobin peers at the canvas you have pressed to your side, tentatively waiting for a signal from you. You give a hum of agreement, a little self-conscious because it’s an evidently beginner piece, incomparable to Mingyu’s or Beomgyu’s works, and photography isn’t exactly your niche, but you let him take the canvas from your arms anyway. He’s careful when he holds the frame in his hands, stretching out his arms to get a full look.

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s amateurish,” you cringe. “I didn’t think they’d actually pick it.”

On the canvas is a silhouette of Sunghoon, pitch black against an ocean sunset. It’s a cliche composition, taken on a whim with Jake’s camera that you borrowed for ten minutes when you got bored on your beach trip last weekend. The decision to submit it was also just as impulsive. You’re pretty sure Mingyu, Myungho, and Beomgyu just picked it because it’s you. Nothing better than some organizational nepotism. You’ll get them to admit that eventually.

“Well, it’s pretty good for someone who’s just starting,” Soobin assures. The both of you must have forgotten that you’re in the middle of a road on campus, an archway of trees above you. The sunlight speckles that manage to leak through the leaves above can be seen shining spots on his face. “I can help you practice when I have the time.”

“No way, do you also do photography?” You’ve only seen him do graphic design and some photo and video editing so far, so you’re legitimately pleasantly surprised. “That’s unfair.”

“No, I don’t,” he answers. “I work better in front of the camera.”

You give him a look. Soobin notices that you don’t quite understand him.

“If the model looks good, then the photo will look good too.”

You’re speechless. “Wow,” you gape. “You know, my first impression of you was that you’re a very kind, very shy, very gentle, very humble individual. But you’re actually quite shameless, Choi Soobin.”

Soobin only laughs, and you try to take your canvas back, but he insists on carrying it. You let him, not by choice, but because he lifted it up to his head and you can’t possibly fucking reach that unless you climb him. Giving up, you look around. “So, what now?” He raises a brow. “The Cultural Center is closed and Mingyu will take a while. What are we supposed to do?”

You didn’t expect him to actually try and think of something, so you’re surprised to hear his silence while he’s deep in thought, contemplating. You stifle out a chuckle. “Would you...like to check out a different exhibit in the meantime?”

“Hm?” you look at him. “What exhibit?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I had Programming last semester and we had to develop an app as our final project. The faculty decided to display some outputs, and— a-anyway, it’s in the CICT Building. If it’s too far, we don’t have to go.”

“No, I wanna see.” You tug on his sleeve and make your way to their building, overly familiar with the directions from the times you’d loiter around the premises in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Beomgyu, only to get roped by Mingyu and the other Shutter members for a few rounds at different pop-up bars and cafes in the city. But it’s been a while since you’ve been here. It’s white like most of the college buildings on campus, but it’s impossible to tell from the outside how much more budget the administration gave to this building for the air conditioning.

Soobin leads you inside the lobby and from there, you can already see a mini LED screen with the animated text saying SOPHOMORE COMPSCI EXHIBIT. IT203 Programming. OB 101. July 1-23, 2023. No admission fee! along with printed arrows on the floor leading to the large double doors on the right wing of the building. There are white and red balloons forming an arch around the door— their department’s signature color. “You guys really went all out,” you nudge Soobin. He makes a noise of what you assume is embarrassment.

When you enter, you’re met with computer monitors, television screens, and even more LED screens in the large room, lining up in different rows with signs and other things you can’t quite name accompanying them. You’re so used to having only printouts, PDFs, and word documents in front of you for your major that you forgot other courses have a little more life in them.

“Ohhh? Soobin, you’re here.”

Then you notice that there are a lot more people in the exhibit, presumably Soobin’s classmates because they either walk up to him, greet him, or both. You’re stuck with a customer service smile as Soobin engages with them. That is until one of them— a girl you think you share an elective class with— looks at you with a bright smile. “Hi! Are you Soobin’s girlfriend?”

Your eyes bat three times. You’re flustered, but you maintain a tight smile to mask it. Soobin isn’t handling it as well as you because he audibly makes a choking noise and his face, neck, and ears are visibly matching the color of the decorations strewn all about.

“Soobinie, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? Wow, I’m hurt.”

“It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.”

“N-no, what are you—” he stammers. “She’s not— I mean, why would you—”

Oh no. His friends’ hollering and teasing isn’t helping his case at all until Soobin gets enough of it and tells them to shut up while shooing them away. “I’m sorry. You must’ve been uncomfortable,” he says once they’ve all scattered off, a noticeable change in his timbre. “Should we just go?”

“It’s fine,” you assure him. “I’m sure they always do that whenever you’re with a friend they’ve never met before. Anyway, let’s just look at your work! Where is it? Which one?”

You’re already sniffing out the displays one-by-one, but Soobin lags behind for a moment. You turn back, looking at him expectantly. “Choi Soobin.”

“It’s at the end of the next row.” His pace is slow as he leads you to his display, as though there’s glue on his heels, pulling him into the floor. Your nose bumps into his back when he stops all of a sudden. Soobin spins around to sputter apologies, crouching a little to examine your face. “Oh no—”

Your face is a little scrunched up and your cheeks are squished in between his palms. “Does it hurt anywhere? Shit, I’m so sorry.” You can’t even say anything because he’s mushing your face. Your hands crawl up to his arms, about to pry him off, but you hear a voice inserting himself into the scene, and so you pause in the same position.

“Kids have gotten bolder these days.”

You and Soobin turn your heads at the same time. You see someone leaning against the foundation pillar next to one of the displays. He has his arms crossed, and staring at the both of you with sharp, curious eyes. But it isn’t quite clear since strands of his hair are covering most of it. The corners of his lips curve upwards, almost playfully. His piercings catch your attention next— dangling silver amidst various hoops and studs.

In other words, he’s dangerously attractive.

“Hyung.”

Your eyes shift back to Soobin. His arms drop to his side and he straightens his posture. You watch as the newcomer approaches him, keeping a close eye on Soobin’s expression to gauge whether they’re close or otherwise. “Ah, go away.” Soobin rolls his shoulders when the other guy suddenly latches onto him like a koala, the same subtle grin painting his face.

“Wow, you aren’t even greeting me properly, you punk.”

Soobin gets a noogie, and you’re staring at the both of them with an absentminded smile until you’re finally noticed. There’s something in his gaze when he cranes his head ever the slightest to look at you, a slow roll of his irises, and you feel something burning.

“Hi Soobinie’s girlfriend,” he greets. Soobin fully shoves him off.

“She isn’t.”

“I overheard the commotion earlier, though?”

“My blockmates were just messing with me.” Your friend lets out a groan. “Go away.”

He doesn’t go away. Instead, he releases Soobin and he slowly walks up to you. Your throat gets tighter every time he takes a step closer, up until he’s standing directly in front of you. “Hi,” he introduced himself. “I’m Choi Yeonjun. That guy’s senior.”

Yeonjun points a thumb to ‘that guy,’ who isn’t looking very bright at the moment, making it more difficult for you to gauge whether they’re actually friends or not. But you put it on the backburner for now and give Yeonjun your name in response. He repeats it, testing how the syllables should roll off his tongue. Admittedly, your name sounds better when he says it.

“Are you really not dating Soobin?” he asks, and the question catches you off guard.

“N—no,” you quickly reply. “I’m very single right now.”

You want to punch yourself. The fuck kind of response was that?

It doesn’t help when you hear Yeonjun laugh a little, and you feel yourself physically shrink and burn up. You’re sure there’s air-conditioning in the room, but you’re fanning yourself with your hands. The air squeezing down the back of your throat feels like flammable gas. “Sounds a lot like an invitation,” you hear him say. You shoot up, blinking a few too many times.

“I’m sorry?”

Something is tugging on the corners of his lips, and brushes an index finger under his nose. “To watch your exhibit,” Yeonjun clarifies. “You’re friends with Soobin so you’re probably in Shutter, right? So, when’s your exhibit?”

“O–oh, I’m not sure. I’ll ask our Chair once we meet with him later.”

You release a breath you’ve been unconsciously holding. “Then…” he trails off, and you flinch when he suddenly dips closer. Holy shit, he’s too close. “Won’t you need my number so you can tell me the date once you’re sure?”

There’s a cough, and you can hear Soobin mumble something inaudible. Your head peers above Yeonjun’s shoulder and he turns around to check on Soobin, as well. You ask him to repeat himself. “It’s nothing. I can give you updates on the exhibit, hyung,” he says. “And the open dates will be posted on our page as well.”

“Ah, is that so?”

Your eyes narrow at their exchange. Soobin calls Yeonjun hyung and the latter knows he’s in Shutter, so you’ve settled with thinking that they’re friends. Yeonjun also seems to be pretty comfortable around your friend, but the evident tension in the air is making you second guess. You’d have to ask Soobin later.

Then, Yeonjun says something that throws your plans out the window.

“She can just give me a different date,” Yeonjun says. He spins on his heels and returns his attention to you, an eager smile on his face. “Right?”

Now, your love life might have been a consistent dumpster fire, but it doesn’t take a genius to take a hint that Choi Yeonjun is hitting on you right now.

Your brain is short-circuiting, causing you to sputter out an unsure, “Yes?”

“Okay.” It seems like that was good enough for Yeonjun because he graces you with a satisfied smile and holds his hand out. You stare at his open palm. He lifts a brow. “Phone?”

“Oh! Right—”

You dig into your pockets and fish out your phone, passing it to Yeonjun who brings the device close to his face, covering the amusement on his lips from your unhidden fluster. “Cute,” you hear him mumble, and it feels like you’re being swallowed by hot sand.

It’s hard not to get your hopes up from a first meeting like this, but Yeonjun is merciless. Your hopes flutter far above your head when he texts you later that evening while you’re out for dinner with Yura, asking when the aforementioned date will be.

“Why is it so hard for all of us to get together?” Yunjin opens your first lunch together since the beginning of break by slamming a sprite can into the table. “It’s summer break for fuck’s sake!”

The hot pot restaurant you’re in has gotten noisier with your group’s presence. There’s chopsticks clattering on silver platters, soda cans spritzing open, and a mess of voices as justifications break out from all sides of the table.

“I went home to see my parents!” Jay defends himself.

“So did I!” adds Jake.

“Kazuha booked her flight at the end of the month because she’s smarter than you two,” Yunjin points her chopsticks at the latter before switching over to you, who’s innocently shoving a piece of boiled meat into your mouth. “And you—”

“It’s not my fault I have org shit to take care of!” you say with a full mouth. Taehyun passes you a glass of water.

“What about you?” Jay juts out his chin at Sunghoon, who’s also quietly eating from his bowl like you’ve been earlier. “What’s your excuse?”

The moment summer break began, Sunghoon suddenly disappeared without a trace. He showed up at Jay’s condo with a suitcase and shopping bags yesterday evening without an explanation. You have yet to hear from the man himself. He gets uncomfortable from the amount of eyes staring at him and slams down his spoon.

“Can’t a man get some personal time?!”

“Then go have lunch by yourself.” Taehyun pushes aside Sunghoon’s bowl while reaching out for some side dishes. “I’m sure he had a two week fling but it didn’t work out so now he’s crawling back.”

“Yah, what do you know?” Sunghoon shoots up. “You’ve never even dated before.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t slander Taehyun,” Yunjin butts in. You didn’t think Taehyun’s accusation was true until Sunghoon’s reaction. Poor guy really must have gotten dumped. “He got asked out by Aecha and a girl from broadcasting while you were off the radar.”

Sunghoon sits back down. “Seriously?”

“Wait, how come I don’t know this?” Jake only snorts at your question and reaches over the table to place a cube of radish into your open mouth. Your jaw chews automatically, waiting for an explanation.

Taehyun shrugged. Jay answers on his behalf. “Do the both of you even open our group chat? He turned them down. I wasn’t even in the country but I knew.”

“What the—” Sunghoon looks at the man in question. “Dude. Aecha is so pretty, why would you reject her?”

“Go date her yourself, then,” he says.

“Maybe I will.”

“I feel like I’ve overheard this conversation in high school,” you hear Kazuha from beside you and you breathe out a laugh in agreement.

“But I was also pretty shocked when I found out Taehyun turned her down,” Yunjin says. “I thought you two got along pretty well.”

Aecha is another girl from your major, and you’ve seen her and Taehyun together a few times— asking questions about your classes and such. It never hit you that she had a thing for your friend. Then again, you aren’t the smartest person in that area, either. While listening, you’re on the verge of spilling your guts out on the table about the very dangerously attractive senior you met the other day. Kazuha notices how you’d suddenly grow quiet from time to time. You open your mouth, but Taehyun catches everyone’s attention.

“I’m not interested in dating,” he says. “I’ll just get distracted. If I’m going to be this nation’s president in the future, there’s things I need to prioritize first.”

You want to laugh at him, but the shit he’s saying is actually possible, even if he’s saying it with a serious voice as a joke. You decided to take public administration as a pre-law, but Taehyun seems to have a higher ambition than all of you combined. Sunghoon warns him that he shouldn’t be too confident about staying single, “You’ll never know when you’ll fall in love and trip over your plans, buddy.” Taehyun just shrugs him off and continues eating his lunch.

You’ve already emptied your bowl and are once again deep in thought. It’s not only Kazuha that notices this time— Jake eyes you as he drinks from his glass of water. When he settles the glass down, he calls out your name. Your eyes snap forward and look at him. “Yeah?”

“What’s up?”

Man, you really have to fess up now, don’t you? It takes a while to get the words out of your system, and the amount of eyes staring at you is making the food crawl back up your system. This must be how Sunghoon was feeling earlier. “Well,” you start, trying out one word at a time. “I met a guy.”

Jay nearly spits out his water. You don’t give them an opportunity to grill you and continue.

“We’ve been texting for a few days.” It’s Yunjin’s turn to choke on her water. “Is it...too soon to go on a date with him this weekend?”

You’re guessing you gave out too much information at once, so it’s taking them a while to make a response. You sit there, innocently fiddling on some tissue paper. Jay is the first one to recover/ “Holy shit. I didn’t believe you when you said you were over Beomgyu, but I guess you’ve really did move on, huh.”

“Is he pretty? Is he from our uni? What’s his major?”

“You have a thing for tech boys, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” you smack Sunghoon. “But is it too soon? Or…?”

Kazuha drags her chair closer to yours. “Tell us about him first.”

You cock your head, a little hesitant to say anything about Yeonjun yet. You don't think you know him well enough, granted that you’ve only been texting for a few days. Still, you tell him what you can— his name, that he’s a friend of a friend, and that he’s one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen.

“I think it’s too sudden,” says Jake.

“I think he’s just playing with you.” You smack Sunghoon a second time.

“Don’t listen to them!” Yunjin jumps in before the boys can do any more damage. “You should go date whoever you want and it doesn’t have to be serious. You’re at the very least interested in him, right?”

“Well— yeah.”

“And it seems like he’s interested in you, too! If it works out, then great! If it doesn’t, then we’ll just help you get over him. Give it a shot. You’ll never know unless you do.”

You ponder over Yunjin’s advice for the rest of the day until you find yourself staring at your phone screen instead of going to sleep. The night is leaking through your window, and you turn to your side, biting your thumb. The screen is showing your last conversation with Yeonjun, earlier this morning before you left to meet with your friends. Your bedside clock ticks impatiently. Then you start typing.

Saturday.

Hm?

I heard there’s a summer promo at Baskin Robbins.

You shove a pillow to your face and you end up kicking off your blankets. Taking a sharp breath, you sit up and attempt to lower the rising temperature, else you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Though when you see his reply, you fumble harder.

Can’t wait :)

Yunjin should’ve warned you that taking her advice had side effects.

Saturday comes. You’re already sweating buckets on the elevator ride down your apartment.

It’s hot out, so I’ll pick you up, Yeonjun texted a few hours prior. He also asked what outfit you’ll be wearing. We should match, he says. You’re in an oversized striped dress shirt and about to pass out from nervousness.

One thing you haven’t told your friends is that fact that you’ve never been on a date before. Like, ever. Your high school years were plagued by books and tests and assignments and the moment your parents allowed you to move out for university, you decided you wanted to live your life to the fullest— at least during your first year.

However, your resolve doesn’t translate to having balls of steel. The elevator reaches the ground floor and you hesitate to leave. You pull out your phone and use it as a mirror to give yourself one last check, fearing that your makeup has already melted off. It took you thirty minutes just to get your eyeliner perfect and you’d cry if they’ve gotten ruined.

You only get one quick glance before the screen flashes on. An incoming call from Yeonjun. You press the phone to your ear and hurry out the elevator. “I’m on the way!” The floor is slippery when you skid across the lobby and emerge through the entrance, but you manage to catch your balance by holding onto the doorframe.

“I see you.”

You allow your arm to fall to your side because you spot him as well in front of your building, waiting outside a gray vehicle. He was serious when he said he’d match your clothes.

Yeonjun waves at you with a wide grin, but eyes covered by the dark shades perched on top of his nose. It doesn’t stop your cheeks from flaring up. You feel like you should be the one protecting your eyes and not him.

“The temperature today is brutal, isn’t it?” he says upon your arrival. “Ah, I can’t wait for some ice cream therapy.”

He should know that he’s much more dangerous than the scalding summer heat. The warmth from his palm is still lingering on your shoulder when he guides you inside his car, and you feel a lot more lightheaded inside the compact space of the vehicle than when you were outside. Your left leg is jerking in nervousness. Yeonjun turns on some music, and you start to loosen up a bit more.

“You know,” he says, eyes on the road in front of him. “You’re a lot more talkative in text than in person.”

You should’ve known you’ve been pathetically obvious. “Relax. I won’t eat you up.” Yeonjun assures.

“It’s just that,” your knuckles tighten on your lap. “I’ve never been on a date before.”

“Really? Guess I should do a good job today.”

When you snatch a glance at him, he peers at you with a smile and you want to explode. “So that you’ll let me take you out on a second one.”

It’s always like this whenever you’re with Yeonjun. You learn this after the second, third, fifth time you’re out with him. It’s like something is burning, always keeping you on your toes else you’ll combust along with the flames. He’ll say something that’ll set your cheeks on fire and won’t do anything to put it out.

Yet the burn is addicting, like when your fingers start to sting a little after playing with lit candles whenever there’s a power outage. But you still swipe your index finger barely above the flame to show off that you can tame it with your own hands.

The exhibit will be on the twenty-second of July. Yeonjun says he’ll be there.

“You’ve been in a great mood lately.”

You turn around after settling an easel at the end of the room to find Mingyu fixing the ones next to you. It’s a day before the exhibit— Hanyeorum, as the selected title— and some volunteers from Shutter are making last minute preparations at the Cultural Center. The easels you borrowed from storage finally arrived. All that’s left is to arrange them along with the photos, and plaster their labels underneath.

“Some would say you even look prettier,” he wiggles his brows, and you snort.

“What do you want, Chair?”

Mingyu pouts, moving over to another corner of the venue. “Your attitude still sucks, though.”

“As if yours is any better,” you shoot him a grin. He lets out a scoff and falls to the floor, sitting cross legged and looking up at you. He pats the ground in front of him. You’ve been working and walking around since two in the afternoon and it’s already getting dark, so you take his offer.

“Are you inviting anyone for the exhibit tomorrow?” he asks. You raise a brow at him, wiping your hands with the towel you’ve just stolen from his shoulder. The easels are dusty. Mingyu continues talking. “They say if you bring someone to check out Seo Myungho’s ‘Everlong,’ the both of you will fall in love.”

“That sounds fucking stupid.” You toss the towel back at him. “Wait a minute. Are you spreading these rumors to get more people to come?”

He grins. “Genius, right?”

“Hate to admit it, but that’s actually a good strategy,” you tell him, and his face stretches into a proud smile. “Need any help spreading fake news?”

“If we reach one-fifty visitors on the first day, I’m treating everyone who helped out. A new bar opened in the district.”

You shake on it. “Leave it to me.” How can you say no to free drinks? Even if you don’t reach the quota, Mingyu will probably spend money on you all, anyway.

“I’ll take over from here. Go take a break until the guys come back with the displays.”

You have no reason to protest. You snatch a can of soda from a plastic bag in the middle of the room and make your way outside. The night breeze is gentle on your skin, and you spot someone else taking a breather outside the building. He’s leaning against the railings, looking into the dim painted campus. “Choi Soobin,” you call out. He turns around, blank face tugging into a small smile and he greets you the same way as you called him. It’s been a while since you’ve hung out with him. Even the days where you were working for the exhibit, you and him have only exchanged a few words, mostly greetings.

“Are they done inside?” he asks. You take the spot next to him.

“Not yet,” you reply. The soda can is cold on your lips, and you look up at him. “Heard the rumor about Myungho’s piece?”

“The one Mingyu hyung is spreading to get people interested?” Your laugh comes off as a huff of air when he hits the nail on the head. Just how many people has Mingyu been recruiting? Soobin tells you how ridiculous it sounds. “I don’t think it’s gonna work as well as he thinks.”

“I think otherwise,” you tell him. “The fact that such a rumor exists in the first place is gonna draw their curiosity, whether they believe it or not. 2,000 won isn’t much. I’m sure people would throw away their money to see what in the hell this Everlong piece looks like.”

Soobin laughs. “You’ve got a point.” He stays quiet for a moment before asking, “Did you invite Yeonjun hyung?”

“He says he’ll come,” you reply. “What’s with the face?”

You’ve noticed his discomfort on the day you met Yeonjun, second guessing your assumption that they were friends (they are, Yeonjun assures. Soobin also clarified that when you questioned him on the same day). However, you still haven’t gotten an explanation from that dau. You hope Soobin will give you some clarity tonight. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” he starts, and you listen attentively. “But I’m just worried.”

“Is he a player, or something?” you raise a brow. “He does look like one, and I thought so too at first until I got to know him better. But if he is, you would’ve warned me.”

Soobin shakes his head. “No, well— he’s not like that, but—” He’s a little hesitant. You can tell from his expression. “Yeonjun hyung isn’t an...actively bad person. It’s just that…he sort of has commitment issues.”

This is news to you, but you keep your thoughts to yourself first. Soobin continues and you keep listening. “He doesn’t hesitate to make a move when he’s interested in someone, but after a couple of dates or when things start getting a little more serious, he gets cold feet and it ends up— you know.”

It’s not an easy story to tell. Soobin must have spent a while thinking if he should tell you these things about Yeonjun or not, considering the fact that he’s probably closer with him than you, who just popped up in his life a few months ago. Yet he still told you, and he’s looking at you with such an earnest concern in his eyes. “The two of you are my friends and the last thing I’d want is either of you getting hurt.” To say you’re touched is an understatement.

“For a while I thought you were being jealous.” You joke in an attempt to lighten up the mood, but it’s only made the air colder and you quickly try to cover it up. “But thanks for looking out for me, Choi Soobin.”

He presses his lips into a tight smile. Your shoulder slump, letting yourself sink into the railings.

“I don’t know. I still like him a lot,” you admit and Soobin hums in response. “Still. Whatever happens, I hope it doesn’t get in the way of your friendship with either of us.”

Soobin’s smile settles softer. “Of course,” he says, and it’s suddenly a lot easier for you to breathe. In spite of the arid summer weather, it’s cooler tonight. The wind blows in a gentle rhythm outside the Center, and you sip on your soda in the quiet of each other’s company. The science doesn’t last long— you start hearing a lot of noise coming from inside the building, prompting you to straighten.

“I think Beomgyu and the rest are back,” you tell Soobin, tugging on his sleeve. “Let’s go. God, I can’t wait for this shit to be over.”

You should’ve taken Soobin’s words as a warning.

It’s the day of the exhibit’s opening and people are slowly trickling in. The tarpaulin in front of the building was designed by yours truly— Hanyeorum in a warm orange and deep purple palette. Mingyu says he can already smell the success of the exhibit, but you’re restless at the ticketing area, walking in circles with your eyes glued to your phone until someone calls out your name.

“Your friends are looking for you,” Yura’s head pops into the booth. “Chan is coming in a bit to take over.”

When Chan arrives, you hop off from your post and join the four people loitering by the entrance. Yunjin and Kazuha are out of the country for vacation, so you’re left with four bastards. They don’t notice you as they’re huddled around your piece near the doors, so you bump your head into Jake’s back.

Four heads turn around. Jake swallows you in a one-armed hug when they notice it’s you. “They finally set you free,” he says, destroying all the work you put in your hair in a matter of seconds.

“This org will fall apart without me,” you say, still tucked into your friend’s side and you cringe when your eyes land on your piece. Mingyu still hasn’t admitted that it’s only up for display because he’s biased. Your friends are praising you because they’re biased, too.

“This one is the best in the entire exhibit.” Except for Sunghoon. You’re sure he only likes it because he’s in the photo.

“Have you even checked the rest of the exhibit?” you raise a brow at him.

“No, and I don’t need to,” he says then releases a noise of awe accompanied by an approving nod, hand on his chin and all. “This is a masterpiece.”

“Where’s the cursed photo everyone’s talking about?” Jay asks, looking around the interior like some sort of art critic. He’s even wearing obnoxious ass shades.

“Right,” Taehyun adds. “The thing you told us about.”

“It’s not cursed. It makes you fall in love,” you click your tongue, finally escaping from Jake’s grasp. Jay scoffs at your correction.

“Sounds like a curse to me.”

Nevertheless, you take them to see Myungho’s display. You guys printed it on the biggest canvas you could get your hands on and made sure to position it at the end of the building so that the viewers could wander for a longer time. The downside for that reveals itself to you in the form of your friends getting distracted by other photographs and disappearing like scattered bugs in the Center.

The only one you’re left with is Taehyun, who’s genuinely curious to see your senior’s piece.

“Wow,” he gapes. “I didn’t think it’d actually be good, but this is amazing.”

What overtakes the wall is a massive blanket of the night sky, splotched with the occasional star. It’s on the rooftop of somewhere you don’t know, but the sky is so clear, so pretty, so hollow that it draws your attention. The canvas nearly stretches from the floor to the ceiling. It was Mingyu’s idea to print it this big. He wanted to make it feel like you’re in the photo yourself— with your significant other, friend, or anyone you want to share the midsummer night sky with.

“I thought Yeonjun was coming over.” You turn to look at Taehyun. He must be done admiring the piece.

“I thought so too.” you reply.

He’s quiet for a moment— a cautious silence before asking, “Have you texted him?”

“What do you think?”

You’re engulfed in your second hug for the day. Taehyun is never affectionate with any of you, so you know you’re already that pitiful when he decides to comfort you with an embrace, but you don’t complain.

“Maybe something came up so he can’t reply yet. Don’t be too sad over a man. Enjoy your opening day with the rest of your friends.”

If Soobin hadn’t told you anything yesterday evening, you might’ve been a little more hopeful and it would have bitten back twice as hard and painful. Still, your hopes aren’t completely obliterated. You wait for a text or a call or anything up until the first day of your exhibit finally wraps up and you’re in Mingyu’s car with shitty love songs playing on the speaker on the way to Dice, the newly opened bar he mentioned.

“Cheers!”

Shot glasses clunk with one another and you feel the burn crawling down your throat. “Slow down,” Myungho warns while refilling your glass. “I don’t want to clean up after you tonight.”

Your mouth forms into bitter pout. “Cut me some slack. I’m tired and sad and I’ll get shitfaced if I want to.” Your head dips back as you finish another shot. Myungho clicks his tongue with a disapproving head shake and transfers to a different table, where you spot Soobin stealing glances at you.

Shit, he must’ve heard you. You try shrinking yourself and squeeze next to Yura. God, you probably seem pathetic to him right now. It hasn’t even been two days since you talked about Yeonjun, but his warning already happened. You don’t think you can talk to him about it yet, so you gather yourself to a different table. You hear an angel’s chorus singing when you spot Mingyu near the bar front. He’s with some Shutter members that you aren’t really close with, but you bulldoze through it.

Mingyu spots you and waves over for you to come with a bright smile that signals he’s already a few bottles in. “Sit here!” your senior beckons, patting on the empty chair beside him.

“Who’s this?” the guy sitting across him asks. You recognize him from some of the events your org has had— Jeonghan, you think, but you’re not entirely sure since you’ve never talked to him. All you know is that he likes to tease the other members in the group chat a lot.

Still, you give him a polite smile and Mingyu introduces you to each other. You were right. He is Jeonghan.

“Ohhh! So, this is her,” Jeonghan exclaims, stirring your confusion. “The girl Soobinie likes!”

You blink at him. “Ex— excuse me?”

Mingyu quickly brushes his statement away with a laugh and starts thanking you for the exhibit’s success in between drinks. There were a total of 167 visitors today, morning to evening, so Shutter finally has some expendable funds.

You should’ve learned from the first night you were out drinking with Mingyu that you cannot keep up with his pace, but you never learn. He’s making you another drink, sober enough to not spill anything, but your head is already feeling dizzy.

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air.”

“Careful! Wait, hyung you should accompany her—”

“I’m fine!” you assure. “I can still walk by myself, thank you very much.”

You can. Barely, but you can manage. It’s better than being assigned to a senior you’re not even close with and you’d much rather be alone so you can wallow in your feelings. But you overestimated your motor skills while under the influence. You bump into a pillar and stumble right when you’ve almost reached the foyer.

“Whoa. Are you okay?”

The shock and shame of seeing Soobin’s face is almost enough to snap you back into sobriety. He managed to grab you by the shoulders before you could make a fool out of yourself in a public bar.

“Choi Soobin,” you greet him. “You were right. Totally, completely right.”

“Let’s get you back on your feet first, okay?” He steadies you back on your feet, and you grumble with a tight grip on his sleeve to keep yourself balanced. You finally make it to the foyer, leaning against the ledge as you intake the fresh breeze. It’s a mirror of your encounter with him last night. Even the conversations are direct reflections of each other.

“Yeonjun didn’t show up today,” you finally tell him. He settles next to you, and his elbow brushes against yours.

“Maybe something urgent came up?” he says after a moment of pondering. You fish out your phone and after a few scrolls and taps, you flash him the screen, revealing your last conversation with Yeonjun. Conversation is a stretch. The rows of messages you sent today are all marked as read. Soobin’s face glows from the bluelight. “Oh.”

You pocket your phone and stare back into the horizon. There are more occupied tables settled in the bar’s backyard, eliminating any opportunity for silence to rupture. “I’m sorry,” he says. You look up and give him a smile.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “I’m okay. We were only talking for like, three weeks. I didn’t even like him that much.”

Yet in spite of the white noise, the moment when you stop speaking feels heavier than the dead of night. Soobin peers down at your face. You’re staring blankly at the air, and he’s almost convinced you’re actually fine until he catches the slight quiver of your lips and the damp glassiness of your eyes. He flinches back when you suddenly take a sharp breath.

“I thought he was the one! God damn it—”

He’s in a bit of panic at your outburst, unsure of what to do so he settles with awkwards pats on your shoulder as you continue your fit. “Why is it so hard to get in a relationship?” you exclaim. “I mean, it seems so easy for other people! I stopped eating at the cafeteria because I see couples left and right, while all i do is fall on love on my own and end up disappointed and heart broken.”

Your rant leaves you a little out of breath. The air circling around you starts to grow warmer, and Soobin’s face starts to grow a little hazy as you slowly blink, but the concern in his eyes cuts clear despite your insobriety. It makes you laugh a little.

“Choi Soobin,” you call his attention. “Do you like anyone?”

Silence settles in the dry, arid evening. You watch as hidden thoughts flit through his head until he finally gives an answer.

“I do,” he says.

And you remember Jeonghan’s words from earlier. It’s hard to take seriously, and you’re not sure if you even want to take it seriously. Still, it leaves an aftertaste in your mouth, and you swallow it with a sigh. “Good for them,” you hum, melting further into the iron ledge. “Must be nice to be at the receiving end of love. Ah, why do I fall for people so quickly? Am I just easy?”

You earn a comforting pat from Soobin, his hand settling on the top of your head and when you peer up at him, he’s looking away with an unsure expression, the same uncertainty you can feel in the tremors from his hand.

”We should get back inside. You’re not even wearing a jacket.”

“It’s pretty warm out.”

“Still. Summer colds are brutal,” you nudge him. “Let’s go back.”

Mingyu managed to get other members to help in managing the exhibit until the first week of August, so you have more time for yourself. While everyone else crashed with the waves and dug underneath the sand, you resigned to staying indoors and sleeping in while you still can. You’ve heard from some seniors that the next semester will be a lot more brutal.

It’s only the end of July, yet the air around you has shifted from a sweltering burn to a mellow warmth of burnt orange and chalky sienna. It’s still hotter on some days, and those days you’re out with whichever friend is available.

Summer ended early for you. You’re still figuring out how you feel about that.

A WEEK BEFORE FALL SEMESTER, you and Yura decide to clean up your closets and buy more appropriate clothes for the season. You’ve already signed up for your classes once the MIS opened, and you and your friend were lucky enough to enroll in the same elective. You’re only good at graphic design, but you hope art appreciation will be kind to you.

“I don’t think I have any more space for this,” you state, expertly flitting through the clothes rack of cardigans and sweaters. There’s a red one that catches your eye, so you pull it out and hang it over your arm along with your other picks.

“That’s why I went home last weekend and left a bunch of my clothes there,” Yura replies. “What if you sell your old clothes online?”

“I’m thinking about it,” you say. “For the meantime, maybe I’ll just stuff my summer shit in a bag and hide it under the bed.”

“Sounds good,” she says. “Should we check out?”

You two leave the thrift store with two bags in each hand and decide to stop by a ramen place for lunch. While waiting for your orders to arrive, you settle into idle conversation. “You’re meeting up with Chair later, right?”

“Yup,” you reply. Your orders arrive, and you thank the waiter and split apart your chopsticks. “He wants to hear my ideas for the campus festival.”

“I feel like he relies on you a lot,” she says. “Maybe he wants you to be the next Shutter Chair.” You don’t think she’s wrong. It’s evident to everyone that you’re working more than what your position entails. Sometimes, you feel like a second Vice along with Myungho. Not that you’re overly against it— in fact, being needed makes you feel a lot better.

“Does he want to pass his headache to me?” you laugh. “I’m not even sure if I still want to stay in Shutter next year. I want to focus on my acads.”

You notice that she’s been a little less bubbly since earlier. You sip on a little bit of ramen soup and watch Yura as she eats, a thought seeping in your mind and you settle your chopsticks for a moment. “I got ghosted last month.” She coughs on a noodle. “On the day of the exhibit opening.”

Once she recovers from the joke, a glass of water from you to help, she looks at you with wide eyes. “Hello?!”

“Try some karaage.”

You place a piece of the fried dish into her mouth. While she’s chewing and swallowing, you can see her processing your words better. “Who?”

“A guy from comp sci,” you say, picking on the boiled egg in your ramen bowl. “I don’t think you know him.”

Your confession simmers in the air for a moment as you two continue your meals in silence. That is until Yura puts down her bowl after finishing her food and tells you, “I got rejected.”

Cautiously, the words stumble on your tongue. “By...Choi Soobin?”

“How did you know?!”

“I sort of noticed you have a crush on him,” you sheepishly say. “I haven’t told anyone, don’t worry.”

The both of you share a moment of silence to mourn the death of your love lives. It’s almost funny how you and her have an accumulated zero when it comes to your luck with men. “You know what,” you start, ready to leave the restaurant. “We should focus on self love next semester. Fuck everyone else.”

“Yeah!” Yura follows after you, picking up her shopping bags from the floor. “Fuck everyone else!”

Another wave of silence overtakes you as you leave the restaurant, and once you’re back out in the main space of the mall, there’s a relapse.

“I miss him.”

“I miss him, too.”

This is gonna take a while.

Yura gives you a hug before you part ways in front of campus. Mingyu already texted that he’s in the clubroom with your coffee as hostage. The ice is already melted when you get there, and the both of you spend more time scrolling on your phones on the bed Myungho bought the other week because a few too many people have fallen asleep in the office. You’re supposed to be making initial plans for the September festival, but your feet are on Mingyu’s lap and he’s trying his best to fit on the mattress.

“Hey, set me up with one of your friends.” You kick your feet to pull up your body, sitting up straight and Mingyu looks at you like you’ve just assaulted him. “I saw your insta story yesterday. The guy in the bucket hat and glasses is cute.”

“He’s married to his lab reports and is in love with his cat. You’ll only get your heart broken,” he says, sending you a pointed look. “Don’t you have anyone you’re interested in from your major?”

You run the numbers in your head. There’s only a handful of people you find attractive from your major and most of them are your friends. Mingyu takes note of the unabashed disgust on your face.

“I’m guessing that’s a no. How about your anonymous confessor?”

Right. There’s that Shinbi guy from orientation. Whatever the confession said is already fuzzy to you, and no one’s even made a move since then so you didn’t dwell on it too much. Mingyu plops down the bed, looking up to you with his feet swinging behind him like a teenage girl. “Have they revealed themselves yet?”

“What? No. I think they’re over me,” you scrunch your nose. “It’s been months. It’s already expired. There’s no hope in that anymore.”

“Do you seriously have no idea who it is? Dude, I’ve been teasing you with him all this time!”

“Choi Soobin?” He gives you a look: Bingo. “What the hell makes you say it’s him? Did he tell you?”

“No.��� You raise a fist. “But hear me out, okay? Wait—”

Very quickly, he scrambles off the bed and hauls in the whiteboard you have in the office. The wheels screech as he drags the giant board in front of the bed. The marker cap pulls out with a pop, and he writes CHOI SOOBIN on the white surface, all caps, and then SHINBI at the bottom.

“Look,” he taps the marker on the board. “All the letters in Shinbi can be found in his name.”

Your head tilts, observing the bullshit he’s written. He seems about right. “And?”

“That’s it,” he nods, looking proud. “What?”

You throw a pillow to his face.

“Hey, what if I’m right? What if it really is Soobin?” he pushes defensively, roughly erasing the blasphemic writings he made on the board. “How would you feel?”

It’s been months, and whoever Shinbi is, they’ve probably lost their feelings already so you see no point in dwelling on it. But if Mingyu’s speculations are correct, then that complicates things. You recall Jeonghan’s words from the other day, and the fact that Yura literally got rejected by him and she’s still far from over him. The very idea stresses you out.

“I don’t think it’s him.” You hope it’s not him. “But if it is, then he’s really doing a favor for my ego.”

Mingyu has already positioned the whiteboard back on the opposite side of the room. He’s back with a skeptical eyebrow raise. “I mean, if a good looking guy has a crush on you, won’t you feel like you’re the hottest person on earth?” Not taking things seriously fends away the stress.

“So, you’re just using him to feed your narcissism?!” he gasps. “Don’t do my son dirty like that!”

“Calm your giant tits, Gyu. It’s more likely to be Heeseung than Soobin.”

God, you don’t even want to begin thinking if it turns out to be him. Mingyu raises his arms protectively against his chest and you sigh. “Let’s shut up about this and plan for the festival.”

“Your boy thirsty ass is the one who brought this up in the first place.” You hit him with another pillow the moment he settles back on the bed. “Ow! This is why you don’t have a boyfriend. Your temper is shit.”

For the rest of the afternoon, all you two do is type down all the ideas that float in your head in a shared Google document until you realize that half of them aren’t feasible with your bare minimum budget, so the document gets cut in half until you settle with some basic shit— a photobooth and a table to sell some prints of your members’ works.

Before you conclude for the day, Mingyu mentions an upcoming university event sometime within the month. “We need two volunteers from Shutter to join the LDT. Seungcheol hyung said it’s required.” But you put it on the back burner for now. Mingyu gives you a ride home and you decide to schedule a meeting sometime in the middle of the month. For now, you have some classes to prepare for.

“Thanks, Chair. Drive safe.”

It’s great that things are starting to get busy again. That way, you can keep your mind occupied with the incoming season.

“Are you actually joining?”

It’s two weeks into the semester. Your friends are gathered under the orange leaves of burnt trees at the courtyard, spending your vacant period with laptops and other devices on the bench. “No one else volunteered,” you answer Taehyun’s question, mindlessly scrolling through a highlighted PDF document on your laptop. You have a recitation for South Korean Politics and Governance in an hour and a half. Might as well get some last minute reading while you can.

“We also have a presentation at the end of the month. I hope you don’t forget,” he says, and you roll your eyes.

“I have our work schedule planned out. You know you have zero shit to worry about when you’re with me.”

“Why did Prof. Seo pair you two up? It’s not fair,” Jake whines, pushing away his iPad in order to melt into the stone table. “Donate some brains to the rest of us.”

You peer down at the back of his head. “Who are you working with again?”

“Him.”

He points a finger to the person on the table next to yours. Sunghoon is hogging Kazuha’s laptop, but he turns back when Jake’s words sink into him. “What are you insinuating, Shim Jaeyun?”

“At least you’re not working with our major’s resident deadweight,” Yunjin joins Jake with his table meltdown, to which the latter agrees and takes back his remark.

“I’ll help you whenever I can, Yunjin,” you pat her head, but Taehyun isn’t too impressed by your volunteerism.

“No, you aren’t,” he says. “You already have Shutter and the LDT on your plate. You should sleep when you can. Yunjin, I’ll help you. Let this dumbass rest.”

You shoot him a glare for calling you a dumbass and he simply ignores you and continues with his reading material, but you are a little touched. He isn’t wrong. You still have the university festival next month and before that there’s the LDT next week— or the Leadership Development Training your university council is organizing. Every student organization, college council, and publication are required to send two to three representatives. Myungho was the only one available from Shutter’s officers, so you felt compelled to throw yourself in the waters. Mingyu assured it’s just gonna be a one-day seminar with team games in the afternoon like last year, so you aren’t too worried about it.

But Taehyun is worried. Your 2am texts to the group chat about how fucking tired you are probably isn’t of help.

“I’m going to the restroom,” you announce, and Yunjin shoots up to follow you with Kazuha automatically joining the both of you as well. Your friends are a bunch of idiots so they tell you they’re going to talk shit behind your backs before you leave.

You and Kazuha wait outside the door for Kazuha. She’s dreading your KPG recitation because she fell asleep while studying last night (read: three in the morning). “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Prof. Kim isn’t as terrifying as Sir Jung. I almost passed out the other week because he kept using my answers against me.”

“Don’t remind me,” she shudders. “I wasn’t even called but I was terrified just watching you guys.”

From the corner of your eye you see someone familiar in the hallway. Yunjun’s voice slips in and out of your ears as you meet eyes with Yeonjun as he passes by. You feel a familiar burn welling up in your system. When Yunjin notices, you have to stop her from jumping the guy when he turns to go up the stairs. “Let me hit him. Just once, please—”

“Calm down,” you grab her shoulders. “The guy’s probably just here to pass a paper.”

“I’m sorry. If i didn’t tell you to go for it, this wouldn’t have happened.”

You give her a smile. “C’mon. It’s not your fault. Besides, I’m more or less over him already. Three weeks isn’t enough to ruin my life.” It’s not that you’re pinning the blame on Yeonjun, either. You understand him, in a way, because commitment isn’t easy with a lot of people. You also fell too quick, too hard, too easily. Maybe it’s thanks to that that you’re also able to move on pretty quickly. You only hope that this doesn’t affect his and Choi Soobin’s friendship.

Once Kazuha joins you, the three of you head to the classroom. Taehyun and the rest of the guys brought your things with them already.

The week goes by quickly, and before you know it, it’s already the day before the LDT and you’ve been assigned to a team. Seeing the list in your email, you notice that you know only one person from your team— Chaewon from last semester’s Ethics class. You receive a message from her just a few moments later filled with crying emojis, just as relieved as you to know someone. Not long after, you’re both added to a group chat, and you don’t send any messages except for an introduction because you don’t want to be team leader. Chaewon has the same strategy. Your team color is orange and you dig into your closet for thirty minutes to find an orange top.

The whole event isn’t something you’re exactly excited for. It’s something you just want to get over with. It’s Saturday tomorrow and you have a presentation with Taehyun on Monday. So when you arrive on campus at six in the morning to get to know your team, you’re holding back a yawn and trying your best to pay attention.

After Chaewon introduces herself to the orange circle, your turn comes up like a blur. You aren’t really looking at your team members that much— ironic because the afternoon is dedicated to team building activities. That is until the next person introduces himself, and you’re suddenly hit harder than the seeds falling from the trees.

“Hi, my name is Huening Kai. I’m a first year VetMed student.”

He’s cute, you think. It’s ass o’clock in the morning but he’s already smiling so brightly as if the obnoxious orange hoodie he’s wearing isn’t already catching everyone’s attention. You know you’re staring at him, but the rest of your team is too, especially when he’s expressing his determination to win the team building games later.

Throwing together a bunch on people who are at most acquaintances is simply going to be harrowing awkwardness unless there’s an evident extrovert, and you’re lucky enough to have that person in the form of Boo Seungkwan, a junior from broadcasting who is also (very obviously) your team leader. Just as Mingyu said, the entire morning program is a seminar about budgeting and how liquidation works in your university, but you’re barely paying attention— partially because your very cute teammate from earlier is sitting in front of you and the back of his head that keeps on bouncing around is distracting.

“Oh no, I missed the slide,” you hear Chaewon from beside you before she scoots closer to take a look at your notepad. “Did you catch what it said?”

“Huh?” You’ve only written notes up to the third slide. You’re not sure how far into the presentation you’re already at. “Sorry, I’m a little sleepy today.”

She promises to send you her notes once the event is over, and you mutter a thank you even though you can honestly care less. You’re only here because you’re required to and the only positive benefit you’ve received thus far is the eye candy sitting in front of you. He turns around to pass you the packed lunches they’re giving out. “Careful. It’s a little hot,” he says.

“Thanks.” You smile at him, and he returns the expression tenfold. You were dreading the team building activities in the afternoon but if this guy is cheering you on, you think you can run just about five laps in the field.

“Please gather at the front of the building by one-thirty! For the meantime, you may eat your lunch and change clothes since things are going to get physical. Thank you!”

After eating, you carry your bag to the restroom to change. Lucky enough, you managed to borrow a more comfortable orange shirt from Jake. You exit the bathroom looking like a deflated mandarin, and as you’re walking half-dead, you bump into a large, red mass in the hallway. When you look up, you instantly brighten. God, it feels great to see someone you’re actually close with.

“Choi Soobin!” you exclaim. “You’re here! Why didn’t you tell me you’re also joining?”

He only replied with a sheepish laugh and you can’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t tell you. Your teams are sitting far apart from each other (odd choice from the organizers because the two colors literally sit next to each other in the rainbow), so you’ve never seen him the whole morning.

“I already volunteered under my major so I couldn’t do the same for Shutter,” he explains. You purse your lips, not even making an attempt to hide your disappointment. Maybe he’s trying to make some distance since you’re friends with Yura and he doesn’t want you to get caught in between, but you’re not having any of that. His friend ghosted you and you’re still on good terms with him. You won’t let him take a step back when you’re already this close.

“Choi Soobin,” you say again sternly this time, and he jumps. At first, you started calling each other with your full government names as a joke, but your tongue has grown familiar with it. He’s looking a little nervous from your tone. You can’t help but break into a grin. “I owe you dinner. Take note of that.”

“For what?” he asks.

“For trying to warn me about Yeonjun. If you hadn’t told me anything that night, I might still be crying about him today. But thanks to you, I was able to prepare myself a little better,” you tell him. “Anyway, red looks good on you. Good luck to you and your team, but mine’s still winning.”

You let him off with a light punch to his arm and skip back inside in a better mood than earlier this morning. Soobin stops you before you’re too far away, calling out your full name in the hallway that you turn around embarrassed, ready to scold him because there are still other people around besides the both of you.

But you don’t scold him. He gives you a smile that makes his eyes disappear. “Good luck. Don’t get hurt,” he says, and you can hear the noise from somewhere inside your system threatening to build up again.

“You too.”

At first, you weren’t planning on pouring all your effort into the games. But then you remember that you don’t like losing, and Huening looks extra pocketable when he’s bouncing around after your team finishes a station.

It’s amazing race. Your team has to accomplish all five stations in record time to earn points. You’re at the third station, blindfolded in the field with the rest of your teammates shouting directions at you. You think your back is going to break after limbo-ing too hard to evade the apparent obstacle hanging right above the end line.

“Finish!”

No, you can’t see. But you can definitely hear the victorious shouts around you and feel the bodies hurling themselves at you. The blindfold slips down amidst the chaos, and you’re met with a sight that rivals the sun, painted in bright orange and flakes of gold. It hits you that Huening is beaming because of you. It hits you a second time that he’s jumping on and off the ground while shaking you by the shoulders in a fit of excitement. You struggle to keep balance, struggling harder to keep smiling because oh no— here we go again.

“Next station, guys! Let’s go!”

He shakes off the gold confetti from the last station and runs along with your group. You have to make a conscious effort to sprint because your legs are jelly from your most recent realization, so you’re the last one to arrive at the fourth station by the water fountain. You hoped that getting splashed in the face will bring you back to your senses, but Huening looks like he’s filming a youth drama in the water like that.

The last station ends in a blur, and before you know it you’re back on the field for the last game. “This game is called Caterpillar. Team leaders, please come to the table here at the MC’s station and get your handkerchiefs.”

It’s a simple enough game. All of you have to fall in line and hold onto the person in front of you like your lives depended on it. The member at the very front of the line, or the head, can snatch the handkerchiefs from other teams. The handkerchiefs must be tucked behind the last member, or the tail. Seungkwan already volunteered to be the head, but your team is still trying to decide who your tail should be. “They have to be agile and good at evading,” he says. “Anyone up for it?”

You have no intentions of volunteering, but Huening does it for you. You nearly choke when you hear him mention your name. “You did great during the blindfolded obstacle course,” he says. Chaewon vigorously nods in agreement.

“We can win this.”

“Are you sure?” you stammer, a little surprised. “If we lose, don’t blame me.” Seungkwan seems to have faith in you as well and you’re in mild panic. But once you’ve tucked in the orange handkerchief in your shorts, your competitiveness gets the best of you. Five more minutes before the death match starts. You’re behind the rest of your team and doing some stretches.

“Don’t overdo it!” You pause mid-stretch when Huening passes by with a pat on your shoulder. “Fighting!” Oh, you’re so winning this.

All ten teams are scattered on the field like a lopsided rainbow. It’s oddly tense. Your eyes land on the team clad in red right in front of yours, and you find Soobin at the head of their line. He looks nervous and it makes you laugh a little. He probably couldn’t say no to them and landed himself there.

“Lose your handkerchief— you’re out. Get separated— you’re out. Doesn’t matter if you fall or trip as long as you’re all intact.”

Oh shit, it’s starting. You position yourself firmly behind Chaewon, arms wrapped around her waist and you decide to clutch on her shirt for extra measure.

“Last team standing gets the most points. Three, two, one— go!”

It gets messy right off the bat and you already hear one of the teams getting eliminated. You’re panting, trying your best to evade the colors trying to fucking snatch the orange little tail; you have tucked in behind you. The interim scores were announced earlier and your group of tangerines were in the top three. No wonder everyone else is out to get you.

“Green, out!”

They fell over while trying to chase you and broke apart. Serves them right.

“White, out!”

Two more teams follow them after and everyone slows down for a moment. Your team is in a spiral defensive position with you at the center as everyone tries to catch their breaths. “Are you good?” Seungkwan asks. You feel like passing out but give him a thumbs up. There are only five teams left on the field. “Let’s go!” And just like that, you’re running again.

“Purple, out! Blue, out!”

Seungkwan manages to snatch another team’s handkerchief. It becomes a lot more tense with only three colors left on the field— red, orange, and yellow. You’re out of breath, panting at the tail end of your line as the three teams take another moment to rest. How many minutes has it been? With the burn your lungs are feeling, it feels like it’s been hours.

“Shit, shit, they’re making a move! Run!”

You almost trip over the ground, legs flailing under you as the team in yellow suddenly decides to chase you. “Don’t let go!” someone screams. You’re sure Chaewon’s shirt has been stretched out beyond use. When it feels like you’ve managed to put some distance between you and the yellows, your team slows down a bit. “Hang in there,” you hear Chaewon from in front of you. “Holy shit, I think I’m going to die.”

“I’ve never run this much my entire— huh?”

It takes a moment to hit you. At first, you thought your legs had simply melted away because you suddenly can’t feel the grassy ground you’ve been relentlessly racing on. But your legs are still there, hanging mid-air. You look down to see a pair of red sleeves wrapped around your waist. Someone just snatched you from your team. Choi-fucking-Soobin.

“Put me down!” You try to squirm out of his grasp, but this guy is stronger than he looks. Your heart is racing faster than when you were running. It’s short circuiting your brain.

“I will! Stop thrashing, I might drop—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because someone smashes into the both of you, hurling your bodies into the ground. “Orange, red, out!” you hear amidst the yelling and pacing of hurried feet, while you’re still on the ground, barely catching your breath on top of Choi Soobin.

“You could’ve gone after the other team,” you say in between labored breaths. His arms are still firmly locked around your waist. You can feel his chest rising and falling from underneath you. You don’t have the strength to get up yet.

“I was,” he justifies, also breathless. “I’m not sure what happened either. Before I knew it I was running after you.”

Oh no. This isn’t good. With a grunt, you roll yourself off of him and fall into the patch of grass next to him. “Chaewon, help me up,” you stretch your arms out, and the girl comes running to save you.

“Good job. We still got some points for being in the last three.” Chaewon pulls you up and you barely have any strength in your legs anymore. Soobin is also skewed away by his teammates, celebrating their second place victory behind the yellow team.

Somehow, your team managed to land second overall, and you’re standing next to Huening for the photo opportunity after the organizing committee hands you your certificates.

Earlier, this morning, you expected the day to go by uneventfully, itching to go home upon entering the venue with no significant gains on your end, only losses. Instead, you leave campus with a giddy smile on your face as your group parts ways with a certain orange clad teammate telling you to get home safe. It’s unlikely that any of you will be thrown together again, coming from different majors and departments and all, so you settle with keeping it as a fleeting late August memory as autumn crawls in.

“I have a new crush.”

Taehyun and Jay don’t look very impressed nor surprised by your revelation. Maybe spilling the beans while you’re waiting for Prof Seo at the faculty office for a paper consultation isn’t the best idea, but you couldn’t help it anymore. No, you and Huening haven’t talked since the event, but he did follow you on Instagram the evening of and everytime you see his stories, you go a little insane.

Before entering the office, you saw his story from last night. He had a puppy with him. They looked identical, especially with his hair all fluffy. How can you not crush on him?

“Who’s it this time?” Jay asks, feigning interest.

“I met him at the LDT. He’s— oh, fuck. That’s him.”

Cue Huening entering the office with two other people. You don’t know why he’s in your department when he’s a med student, but it’s none of your concern because the world managed to give you a one in a million opportunity to look at him. He’s talking to Professor Ahn, and you notice that there are a few other students in the office mirroring your expression. Maybe you’re just fated to fall for unattainable men— at least this time, you’re sure your infatuation won’t last long.

“No way,” Taehyun breathes out from beside you. “Huening Kai? I know him. We were classmates in highschool.”

That...isn’t something you expected. The smile on your face twitches. Jay voices out the question you want to ask. “Do you still keep in touch?”

“Sometimes,” he replies. “Our moms are friends.”

“Oh boy.” Jay lets out a laugh, aggressively nudging your arm. “How are you planning on getting your heart broken this time?”

“Shut up, hater,” you shake him off. “I don’t plan on acting on my feelings this time, so you don’t have to worry about me getting wasted at your condo and sobbing my throat out again.”

Huening is just a happy crush. A very happy crush and you know for a fact that it won’t go beyond that. You’ll cherish the butterflies he gives whenever he posts something new on social media or if you happen to stumble upon him on campus, up until you don’t see him for a week straight then you’ll most likely forget about him, just like how he’s forgotten about you already.

“You seem very happy today.”

After your consultation, you head straight to the Shutter office for a meeting. Mingyu has his arms crossed while peering down at you with a grin. “Want me to ruin that?”

Your Chairperson is a pain in the ass but he’s still your Chair, so you can’t sock him in the face with all the rest of your officers watching. After the LDT, you’re given another problem in the form of the upcoming university festival. Mingyu is presenting the ideas you came up with earlier in the month after polishing it with Myungho. The plan is still the same— photobooth and selling some prints, with the addition of a face painting corner as suggested by your Vice Chairperson. It doesn’t align with your org’s specialty, but you’re sure it’s gonna get a lot of people falling in line, especially when Beomgyu will be one of the people painting.

“We’ll also be needing a tarp for the photobooth background. Oh and a pubmat announcing that Shutter will have a booth.” Mingyu’s eyes fall on you and Soobin, who just happen to be sitting next to each other on the floor next to the bed. “I’ll leave it to you two.”

As if you have a choice. You and Soobin share a look. His mouth twitches into a half smile, almost a sneer, and he shakes his head like the overworked puppy he is. The meeting wraps up and you pry yourself off the floor with a groan before Yura calls your name. “Let’s go have dinner!”

“Oh, I’m staying here for a little longer,” you inform her. “I need to plan some designs with Choi Soobin.”

It’s awkward. Understandably so. You’re standing in between them as Yura tries to control her expression, and you start to feel bad. Soobin decides to look away, which is a great choice for him. “Al— alright, tell me if you need—”

“I’ll bring you two some takeout,” Mingyu whisks her away as he passes by. Most of the officers have already left the room, only a handful remaining, including Chan, who suddenly shoots in.

“I can stay behind if you two need more hel—”

“No! These two can handle it.”

Mingyu is already pushing them out the door. He shoots you a suggestive eyebrow wiggle when half of his body is already out the room. You want to slam the door in his face.

“Call us if there’s an emergency. Bye!”

With the creak of the door, you and Soobin are left in the office. Unlike the last time the both of you were left alone here, it’s bright. All the lights are on, their fluorescence illuminating all corners of the room, fending away the night that’s leaking into the sole glass window high up the wall behind you. Soobin calls out your name in full, like he always does. “Should we pick a palette first?” he asks, already tinkering with Photoshop on the computer.

You hum in reply, taking the spot next to him. It’s quiet while you’re working, save for the occasional questions and answers, “does this look better or this?” or if you should add more or less.  Soobin is working on the pubmat while you’re brainstorming some options for the tarp. The festival is in the third week of September— autumn in full swing, so you settled for some warm tones of oranges, reds, and browns.

“Break time, please,” you groan, already feeling the strain on your back after hunching in front of the computer for thirty minutes. Soobin gets up and crouches in front of the bed, pulling out a basket where you store your shared snacks.

“How are you?” he asks out of nowhere, throwing you a bag of pretzels.

“Well, that came out of nowhere,” you laugh, accepting his offer. Soobin sits back down next to you, his chair swinging left and right.

“Mingyu hying isn’t the only one that noticed that you’ve been in a better mood,” he says. “I’m glad you seem to be over Yeonjun hyung now.”

“You know, you always seem to be involved in my failed romantic ventures somehow.” Soobin is taken aback at your accusation, an unsure laugh escaping his throat. He doesn’t deny it because it’s true— he’s friends with both Beomgyu and Yeonjun. You won’t be surprised if he turns out to be friends with Huening Kai as well. “I have a new crush now, so you don’t have to worry.”

In all fairness, you don’t need to tell him that. But you did anyway. If there is a chance that Choi Soobin was really the one who confessed to you months ago, if Yoon Jeonghan wasn’t just messing you and he does, in fact, have a crush on you, then it’s better to nip the bud early. Things are going to get complicated, especially since Yura still likes him based on what happened earlier. You’re just saving yourselves the headache.

“Should I tell you?”

You can’t dissect his expression. He doesn’t look affected, nor does he look pleased— like he’s practiced it before. “It’s best if you don’t,” Soobin says. “Like you said, it’s like I’m always involved somehow. What if I’ve been the one jinxing you all this time?”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you frown. “It just so happened that they aren’t the ones for me.”

He only laughs, leaning further back into the chair which causes it to swivel more. “Do you think it’s gonna work out this time?

You snort. “No. He’s also out of my reach. And we’ve met like once and he doesn’t even remember me.”

Soobin lets your words simmer in the air for a while. Unlike earlier, there’s a weight in his eyes, staring right into yours. “You shouldn’t put yourself down like that,” he starts. “You’re pretty, smart, hardworking, and responsible. I think anyone would fall for you once they get to know you.”

The air shifts. You hear the deep, rhythmic thumping in your eardrums again, like your body is sending you a message— to run away? To hide someplace where he can’t hear the violent drumming of your ribcage? It’s not like you’re stupid and don’t know what this means, but it’s a lot less complicated and dangerous if you choose ignorance over acknowledgement. A knock on the door saves you. You can breathe again when you see Myungho peering in.

“Takeout delivery,” he blandly announces his arrival. He has two plastic bags in his hand, waiting for the both of you to take the weight off him. “The guards are starting to lock the rooms. You two should hurry and finish up. I’ll drive you guys home. You can eat in the car, if you want.”

It’s like a new life gets breathed into you when you stumble over your feet and quickly grab your food from Myungho with a squeaky thank you. You’re even more thankful when you get dropped off first, unable to swallow any of the food your orgmates bought for you in the suffocating atmosphere inside the car. “Thanks. Drive safe,” you say before slamming the door shut and running into your apartment building.

You’re not stupid. You’re making the smarter choice, you repeat to yourself as you climb up the stairs to your unit. Everything will fade in a few month’s time. You just need to endure it.

“I was about to cry from exhaustion but when I heard Huening’s voice, I felt like I could live again.”

Taehyun’s eyes are nothing but judgemental. “Does he even remember you?” he hits a sore spot. You tell him to shut the fuck up.

It’s the day of the festival. The university ground’s are littered with crisp auburn rain from the trees lining the courtyard, warm lights hanging from the lamp posts in between the pop-up booths from different organizations and clubs. Evening is crawling in, but for now the sky is a pretty shade of orange. You’ve been working since it was blue, setting up your booth situated near the stage of the venue. You’re thanking whoever assigned Shutter to this spot— you can see Huening onstage clearly from where you are standing. He’s one of the emcees for the event and is currently introducing your uni’s president for his opening remarks.

“Your boss is calling you,” Taehyun brings you back to earth, pointing a thumb at Mingyu, who’s setting up the camera for the photobooth.

You suck in a deep breath, ready for some more work. “What is it this time?” you ask. Mingyu spins around to face you. His face is smiling too much for your comfort.

“I’m releasing you from your duties,” he says, proud. “Enjoy the festival. I already asked someone else to cover the cash register.”

Your eyes widen. He laughs and tells you he’s not lying, pushing you into the crowd. Wow. So he can actually be considerate sometimes. “Come back before the event ends, though. We all need a picture together!”

Thanks to your Chair’s blessing, you can actually spend some time with your friends today. You hear Huening introduce the hired band through the speakers and music erupts as you rejoin Taehyun with the good news. “The others are hogging the food at the business department’s booths,” he tells you. “I’m not really that hungry. Wanna play some games?”

So, you do. The next hour is spent with fortune telling and archery challenges, ball throwing and jewelry making. Jake picks you up at some point to jam in the middle of the crowd, jumping around with the makeshift rave party the band is providing. You notice a lot of your peers have drawings on their faces— hearts and sunflowers, waves and pumpkins, patterns in different colors, and you remember your org’s booth.

“Hey!” you call out to Jake. “We should get our faces painted!”

He nods vigorously, and you drag him over to your booth which has accumulated a rather large crowd around it. You poke your head through the rest of the people, trying to see if you can wiggle your friend and yourself in. It’s busy. Like really busy. There are like three different lines mixing and matching together with Beomgyu, Myungho, and Riki bending their backs to paint some flowers or whatever on the people sitting in front of them. You sort of feel guilty that Mingyu gave you free time.

Beomgyu catches your face in the crowd after he finishes a customer, and he greets you with a curious smile. “Face paint?” he asks. You nod, and he pats on the now empty chair in front of him.

“You go first, dummy.” You push Jake down the seat.

“Why am I suddenly nervous?”

You roll your eyes at him with a laugh, but Beomgyu doesn’t start vandalizing your friend’s face yet. “Are you also lining up?” he asks again, and you nod. “Soobin hyung!”

You didn’t even know he was here until you look at the direction Beomgyu is yelling at— a few steps away from the rest of the booths, unlit by the warm candied lights. There, you see Soobin with Yura. The former has his back facing you, so you can only see Yura’s face, and your heart sinks a little. It doesn’t look like she’s at a festival. Her expression matches the dim surroundings they secluded themselves in.

Soobin turns around upon being called for the third time, managing a quick bow to Yura before running back to the booth.

“Sorry— what is it?”

“You have a customer.”

Soobin is a little caught off guard when he sees. You’re not sure how you should greet your friend that most likely rejected your other friend for the second time, so you settle with a smile and try your best not to make it obvious that it’s forced. “I didn’t know you could face paint.”

He looks guilty. “I don’t. They grabbed me at the last minute because we needed more people.”

“Oh no,” you breathe out. “What are you going to do with my face?”

Your eyes flicker to the back of the booth once more and Yura is already gone. God, you feel like shit, but asking for someone else to work on your face or suddenly backing out will put Soobin in an embarrassing situation as well. So you sit down, trying darndest to feign ignorance and act normal. “I’d ask you what design you want, but Myungho hyung only taught me one thing,” he says nervously, preparing the paint palette on one hand and a paintbrush on the other. “I’ll pay for you if it turns out bad.”

“Relax,” you tell him and yourself. “You can do whatever you want.”

It takes him a few tries before he actually gets near your face, and you can see how his knuckles are shaking a little when he lifts up the white-coated brush to your cheekbone, just underneath your left eye. He’s so close. He’s so close. The paint is cold when it hits your skin, like a melting snowflake, and you squeeze your eyes shut. “Hold— hold still,” he tells you to stop moving, but you hold your breath instead when you hear him settle down the palette and use his other hand to turn your head a little, and you stop breathing altogether.

Shit. “I didn’t think it’d get this busy here.” It’s your pathetic attempt to distract yourself from the inferno erupting in your lungs. “You guys need help?”

“No, it’s fine.” Shit, you can feel his breath hit your cheeks, warm amidst the cool weather. “You’ve been working since earlier.”

He pulls back, nervousness gone and a more focused expression coating his face as he examines his work. Under his stare, you feel self conscious, and the heat swirling in your ribcage crawls its way to your neck like an invisible scarf, and your throat dries up. “Hmm, what color do you want?” he asks, pursing his lips at the limited palette.

“You— you can pick.” Your knuckles squeeze at your voice crack. God, this is actually too much.

“Okay,” he says. “Can you tilt your head a little?”

Soobin inches closer again. It’s hard not to look at him when he’s this close. He’s making it hard not to. You flinch when the cold brush kisses your cheekbones, sharply inhale when his warm fingers graze your jaw, until he retracts all the cold and warmth again for an interim check of whatever he’s painting on your skin.

“Oh? Oh, what’s this? Mingyu, your kids are flirting in public, I don’t think they should be allowed to do this.”

Jeonghan’s voice is like a sudden splash of hot water. “Seonbae, if Choi Soobin ends up painting a turd on my face because you’re being annoying, I’m going to bury you.”

Your senior only laughs at your misery, and you don’t think you can handle another second of this activity. “Is it done?” you ask Soobin, ready to bolt out of your chair.

“I—I think so.” He hands you a mirror. “Please go easy on your evaluation.”

His dumb comment makes you feel a little more at ease, laughing a little when you bring the mirror to your face. You were honestly expecting chicken scratch— a splotchy mess on your face of what he intended it to be— but you’re surprised and impressed to see a monarch butterfly making a home underneath your eye, dots of orange littered around it.

“Wow. It’s pretty. Myungho taught you well.” You pull down the mirror and look up at him, satisfied. “Thanks. Where do I pay?”

“It’s on the house.”

“Are you sabotaging our business?” you eye him. His smile is guilty, but you’re smiling at him too. “I’ll go throw money at Mingyu. You still have more customers, Choi Soobin. Your butterflies must be in demand!”

You make an escape rather than a farewell, fishing Jake along after you throw an unsure amount of money on the counter Mingyu is watching. You know your friend has something to say. He looks at you with suspicious eyes and an insinuating grin once you’ve gotten far enough from the Shutter booth. “You look like you’re getting weird ideas,” you get ahead before he can say anything. “Whatever it is, don’t say it. I want to enjoy the festival, thank you very much.”

“It looked like you were enjoying, though,” he swings an arm around your shoulder, hauling you over to the first stall that catches your attention. “Like you were enjoying it a lot.”

You trust Jake not to run his mouth to the rest of your friends, but you bribe him with chicken skewers just to be safe. When you two rejoin your group, the festival is already coming to a close. You were hoping to find Yura, but she hasn’t replied to any of her messages.

Things are already complicated as is. You don’t want to complicate things further.

“What should we do when exams are over?”

It’s midterms week— the third week of October. You raise your arms in the air, locking your fingers together for a quick stretch as you walk with your friends from the Social Science building, fallen leaves crunching under your feet. You’ve just finished an exam for a major course, leaving you with a few minor and elective exams.

“Jay, it’s literally Tuesday,” says Yunjin. “It’s not even the middle of the week.”

“What about for winter break?” Sunghoon thinks out loud. “Is the Christmas party still happening?”

“We’ll talk with the rest of our batchmates after midterms,” Taehyun answers while flipping through his notebook. It’s a wonder to you how he hasn’t tripped yet. “Can’t you two focus on your exams first?”

You’re in front of the College of Medicine’s building. Jake says he needs to pick something up from his friend. “Wait for me! I’ll be quick. If you guys eat lunch with me I’ll throw a fit, seriously,” he warns. You shoo him away and your group loiters in front of the building.

It’s a little cold. You cross your arms together and ask Sunghoon if you can borrow his scarf. He sticks his tongue out, wrapping the fabric tighter around him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“Hey, I’m cold too.”

Then you feel a thick jacket hit the side of your face then fall to your shoulder. You look at Taehyun, jacketless now. “Are you making a move on me?” you narrow your eyes at him, eliciting a gasp from Kazuha.

“Holy shit.”

“Are you stupid?” he flicks your forehead. “If you get sick, you can’t study. If you can’t study, you’ll fail your exams. If you fail, you’ll repeat a year. Want us to graduate before you?”

“He’s allergic to saying nice things,” Jay shrugs. “By the way, you look a lot less like shit lately. Did your org stop overworking you?”

You decide to ignore his insult. “We’re taking a quick break from events. All we have going on at the moment is in IGP to fund our year-end party and Sensitivity Training. Mingyu is also planning on holding some workshops by next year.” He also wants to make a short film, but Shutter is broke. You guys accumulated some money last festival, but it’s not enough to finance all the things he has planned.

At first, you didn’t think Mingyu took Shutter seriously since the past months, all you’ve been doing was partying, hanging out, drinking, and whatever. You’ve come to realize that that wasn’t the case. “We should all get to know each other before working on something bigger, you know?” he said, one time while you were sorting files in the club office. It’s only Shutter’s first year and he wanted to focus on developing a connection among the members first. You saw his plans for next year while you were organizing the files— he’s got everything down pat. You weren’t sure before if you still wanted to stay in Shutter in your sophomore year, but seeing your Chairperson’s passion cemented your decision to stay. Though you joined because of Beomgyu at first, it’s different now. You’d like to help Mingyu as much as you can before he graduates.

Jake is taking way too long, so Yunjin and Kazuha went off to buy some drinks for you guys. Your legs are getting tired, so you squat down with a groan. “You guys should join Shutter next year,” you tell them, looking up.

It becomes a topic of conversation. Jay and Sunghoon are considering it, but Taehyun is adamant on not joining, causing you to egg him on. While you’re doing your best to sales talk him into joining your org, you get distracted by a cat joining in your little group. “Hello!” you greet the orange tabby, and Sunghoon joins you on the floor. There are a lot of cats that roam around your campus. This guy usually wanders around with a friend.

“Oh no, what’s wrong?”

Your ears perk up. The voice doesn’t belong to any of your friends, and it’s followed by a meow that’s not from the orange cat Sunghoon is petting. You stand upright and spot Huening sitting on the staircase in front of the Medicine building, holding up a gray cat like a baby. “Are you hungry?” The cat meows in his face. “Your tummy tells me you’ve just had a nice meal, though.”

The cat jumps out of his grasp and struts over to your group. “Oh no. He’s too cute,” you grumble.

Taehyun eyes you. “Should I introduce you to him?”

“No!” you snap. “I already told you— this is just a happy crush. A happy crush. Nothing more. I just want to admire him from afar.”

“Like a stalker,” Jay butts in. You kick his shin.

“Suit yourself,” Taehyung shrugs. “Hey, Huening!”

Your eyes fly open, wide in panic. What the fuck are you trying to do?! You furrow your brows at him. He doesn’t respond, instead waving at Huening who is happily hopping down the stairs and running up to you. Jay is enjoying your turmoil. Sunghoon looks up from his cats to snort your evident distress.

“Do you still have exams today?” Taehyun asks him.

Huening nods. “Yup. Organic chem. We already had so many lab projects this semester, but Dr. Jung still wants to give an exam.”

He gets introduced to Jay and Sunghoon, and when your turn comes along, your two friends look extra punchable. “And I think you two have already met,” Taehyun says. Your eyes are telling him that he’s going to get a beating later. His face replies with ‘good luck with that.

“Oh!” Huening exclaims after a moment of thinking. He beams at you, dropping a fist on his open palm. “Team orange!”

You’d be lying if that didn’t make your heart skip a beat a little. If he didn’t remember, you might’ve actually cried from embarrassment. You see Jay and Sunghoon from the corner of your eye trying to suppress their giggles, but their unabashed eyebrow raises and whispers are enough to piss you off. Lucky for you, Huening needs to run back inside the building for his chem exam, so you’re spared from any awkward small talk and the scrutinizing stares of your friends. Huening leaves with an apology, and Jake finally returns, asking what happened and why are you on the ground with your hands buried in your face.

Midterms finish quickly— the easiest set of tests you’ve had so far which makes you a little scared for finals. The post-midterms celebration Jay was looking forward to ended up being nothing more than a meal at his place, no alcohol involved, because his parents came to visit.

You met up with Yura on campus when your schedules matched, and she told you that she did get rejected for a second time during the festival. Your conversation got cut short when Mingyu spots the both of you and invites you to a night out this weekend with some Shutter members. You’ll see if you can go, you tell him. It’s probably best if you avoid Soobin for now until Yura starts feeling better.

“We’ve booked two cottages already, but we couldn’t get an overnight room. If I knew the resort was this popular, I would’ve contacted them weeks earlier.”

Yunjin is in charge of the venue for your batch’s Christmas party— which is just an excuse to swim and go drinking in broad daylight, honestly. It’s a well deserved celebration after surviving a year of readings, essays, and depression-inducing recitations, so most of the people in your year are going. Your department doesn’t exactly prioritize camaraderie, so you freshmen had to organize your own get together since your seniors have basically left you to fend for yourselves.

“Good job,” you squick your cheek against Yunjin’s shoulder, peeking at her laptop to see the venue. It’s two months away, but you’re already excited. Shutter is planning something for the end of the year, too. You hope your liver can handle all of these upcoming parties.

“Twelve-twenty-seven. Life check.”

“Alive,” Yunjin groans. You can hear her back bones pop when she stretches over the couch.

“Zuha?” you ask, looking up from your laptop. You see her face planted on the coffee table across from you. “Kazuha.” She springs up, a sticky note sticking on her cheek.

“I’m awake.”

“Good morning,” you laugh. “Let’s clock out at one. Sunghoon says he’ll be here in the morning.”

“Tell him to bring breakfast,” Yunjin says. You’ve been at their place since after lunch, working on a paper for your theory class. Your professor thinks the weekend is enough to write thirty pages of research and prepare a presentation, so you decided to spend the weekend at your girlfriends' place so you don’t get distracted.

The night out with Shutter is also today— or, yesterday since it’s already thirty minutes past twelve. Mingyu has been sending photos to the group chat to make you feel jealous. Too bad you’re not here, says his last message with a sad face, but they’re all looking extremely happy and off their senses in the photo. Mingyu’s face is closest to the screen, Yura is there, barely awake on Myungho’s shoulder, and at the edge of the photo you can see Soobin, Beomgyu, and Heeseung.

You place your phone face down on the table and return to furiously typing on your keyboard. They’re having fun. Good for them, good for them, good for them. You’re also having fun. Writing a paper is fun. Very fun indeed.

A little while goes by, and the clock strikes one. You’re about to pass out on the spot until your phone vibrates again, expecting another message from Mingyu to fuel your envy even further, but instead of a photo, you receive a text. A text from Choi Soobin. You’re staring at your phone screen, frozen after reading the bubble on your lockscreen.

“Why do you look so flustered? What happened?”

I have a crush on you, it says— without explanation, without context. You’re still blinking at the one-line sentence, as if staring at it long enough will make the letters make sense in a way that you can wrap your head around them, but then another bubble replaces it.

Sorry, Heeseung took my phone. Followed by, Good luck on your paper! and your thoughts spiral further.

This is bad. This is really, really, really bad. How do you even reply to this? What were they doing that Choi Soobin’s phone managed to fall in Heeseung’s hands and why would he think of sending you that god damned message? Were they talking about you? When Yura’s literally right there with them?

You’re going to go insane. Your body’s reaction isn’t making it any better. It’s one in the morning and you’re supposed to be fatigued and tired but your face is burning and your heart is racing and your phone is slipping from the sweat on your hands. “Are you okay?” asks Kazuha. You quickly settle your phone back onto the table.

“I’m fine,” you say. “I’m tired. Wake me up at three.”

But three o’clock comes, and you’re still lying awake on your friend’s living room floor, staring at their ceiling with Soobin’s message still unreplied. When the sun rises, and you’ve finally had some time to think, you click on your conversation with him and send— haha, alright, and you immediately get back to work.

The thing is, you aren’t opposed to the possibility of Soobin actually having feelings for you. But your friend still likes him, and you’re all working in the same organization. You don’t want things to get weird, especially when Shutter actually matters to you.

So in the weeks leading up to your finals, you’re thankful to have enough academic burdens on your plate to decline every single hangout, night out, or coffee run from Mingyu so that whatever hinted emotions your co-director is harboring for might be diminished, even if it’s just a little.

But of course, you can’t avoid him completely. You only message him for work, pubmats, layouts, editing, and all, but sometimes, the conversation wanders— have you eaten’s, good luck’s, and full names exchanged in between font choices and composition decisions. It’s easier said than done to shut Choi Soobin out of your life. He’s made himself part of your weekly routine without realizing it, even if it’s just text messages and clubroom meetings.

Your last semester of your freshman year ends when you walk out of your last final, and the bite of December finally sinks into your skin in icy breaths. It’s the coldest it’s been the whole month, and you’re sure it’s only going to get colder from now.

YOUR CHRISTMAS PARTY STARTS IN SHAMBLES. First of all, your period arrived in the morning, so swimming is out of the question unless you want to recreate a Jaws movie in Samcheok. Second, it takes three hours to arrive at Daryeong Beach resort, so instead of having an early brunch at the venue, it was already past lunch when everyone arrived. Third, you feel like shit. Everyone else is either eating, drinking, or swimming despite the cold weather, but you’re wrapped in a towel in the corner of your cottage because your uterus is throwing a fit and it makes you want to die.

“Are you okay?” you look up from your pathetic position to see Jay, damp from the sea. “Yikes. I’m taking that as a no.” You haven’t said anything. He just looked at your face and left to get some barbecue.

“Babe, you should still eat,” you hear Yunjin say. She has a paper plate in her hands and a paper cup in the other.

“I’m fine. I’m not that hungry yet,” you tell her. “I’ll grab a bite later. Go have fun with the rest of the guys.”

Though it’s the beginning of winter, the cold hasn’t settled. Only a light chill in the air indicates the season’s coming, and the white sand scaling the seashore substitutes the first snowfall. Now that you’re free from any academic troubles, there’s more room in your headscape for thinking— which isn’t always a good thing. Your eyes scan the scenery, the beach within your vision filled by the students from your major. Some are with you under the cottage, some are on the sand, some in the water. What better way to keep your mind off someone than by thinking about other people?

Your major has always been male dominated which almost makes you nauseous. You first set sight on the four men playing beach volleyball— Jiseok, Jooyeon, Seungmin, and Hyeongjun. You don’t think you’ve ever talked to them except when you were paired with Seungmin for a presentation.

Next, you glance under the coconut tree nearest to your cottage. A few girls are gathered, then you realize you’ve never really interacted with anyone outside of your circle and your friends from Shutter. Maybe if you hadn’t kept your world so narrow, then maybe you’d be able to meet someone to distract you.

This is hopeless. You give up with a low groan, thinking that maybe eating could take your mind off of things. You’re about to stand up, but are preemptively sat back down with someone’s appearance.

Taehyun is in front of you, half-leaning down and half-about to jerk back up when your foreheads nearly collide.

“Oh.”

You’ve known from the first day of classes that Taehyun is pretty, but you’ve never gotten the chance to look at him up close— this close. Why would you? You two are friends. That’s a stupid enough thought to bring you back to your senses, a squeak escaping your throat and you draw back. “Sorry,” he says. “Mind lifting your arm for a sec?”

“S—sure,” you sputter, scooting away to give him space. Taehyun pulls out his back from the pile and draws out a towel which he lazily rubs on his hair. He must’ve been in the water— that much is obvious with how his clothes are sticking to his skin and how he’s trying his best to dry his hair without spritzing any water on you.

“You don’t look too good,” he frowns. “Have you eaten yet?”

Oh god. “No, but I’m about to.”

“Stay there.” He lets the towel drape over his shoulders and heads over to the table. Taehyun half-fills the paper plate with the food you like before settling it on the surface to crack open the cooler. “Coke or Sprite?” he asks

You remember the time when Mingyu asked if there was anyone from your major that you could be interested in. You also remember the look of disgust you gave him upon considering your friends. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so appalled. Maybe you should’ve been a little bit more open to the idea— then maybe it wouldn’t be biting you in the ass at this very moment.

“Sprite,” you reply.

“Alright.”

Taehyun has always been caring. His mouth might tell otherwise, but his actions towards you and your friends have always been consistent. So when he returns in front of you with a plate of the food you’d usually eat, making a conscious decision to not put too much because he knows you’re not feeling well, your sensibilities shouldn’t falter. It really shouldn’t, but you find yourself swaying. Oh no.

You hear the click of his tongue. You haven’t taken the plate from him, so he’s set it back on the table and is now looking at you with his arms crossed, head tilted. “This won’t do,” he sighs. “We passed by a drug store earlier. What medicine do you take for your period cramps?”

Taehyun is already putting on a jacket and you panic, jumping out of your seat. “No, it’s okay! I’ll eat! I can eat!”

“Are you sure?” He’s unconvinced. You take the plate from the table and sit down with a huff, grabbing one of the skewers while you look at him dead in the eye. “Fine. Tell me if it gets bad. I’ll be with Yunjin and the rest.”

Your friend that your other friend is still hung up on versus your friend that’s completely emotionally unavailable— which one would be less disastrous? Which one would hurt less? Both seem awfully catastrophic, but your heart is stupid and doesn’t listen to your head when it gives a warning to stop falling. Stop. That’s enough, yet you find yourself in the same situation over and over again like you’re addicted to nonreciprocity or something.

Maybe it’s just period hormones, you try and rationalize. You finish the meal, albeit with difficulty, and lug yourself to the beach. Your legs are folded up to your chest, cheek pressed on your knees, and you’re scribbling random shapes into the sand to track every passing thought you’re going back and forth with inside your head.

“You look pathetic.”

When you turn around and look up, you see Jake looming over you like a rain cloud. Your expression sours. He quickly retracts himself. “Wait, I’m not saying it in an insulting way, but in a descriptive way, you know?”

“Just shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He plops down beside you, probably out of pity because in his words— you look pathetic. You have no energy to argue, wanting to bury yourself underneath the sand you’re sitting on more than anything else, and you spare an envious glance at the beer can he has in hand. Jake notices. “No room for a drink?”

You shake your head. “Unfortunately, no. I think I’ll be leaving early today.”

“Oh, me too,” he says. “Can’t stay overnight since I have to babysit my nieces tomorrow morning. Sunghoon has been complaining about the weather too. You can just come with us.”

“Thanks. Seriously, I feel like dying,” you groan. “Ugh. I wanted to go swimming today, too.”

“Next time,” he gives you a smile and gets up. “I’m heading back. Just wanted to check on you.” He gives you a head pat before running back to the cottage, and you’re left alone once more. You’ve come to the realization that the temporary solution to your wavering feelings is talking to your friends (except Taehyun), so you suck up the occasional pain from your lower abdomen and approach the nearest person you can find, which is Yunjin, obliterating the karaoke machine your group rented.

You alternate between listening to them sing, screaming into the microphone, and wallowing in your own suffering until late afternoon when you resigned into your cottage corner once more, waiting for Jake or Sunghoon to show up so you can leave. You’re chatting with the Shutter group chat when Taehyun shows up in fresh clothes, hair damp, and asks you to scoot away a bit.

He’s already organizing his things. He arrived with Jake and Sunghoon earlier, so he’s probably leaving with them too.  “Leaving already?” you ask to confirm.

“Oh, yeah,” he answers, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “You’re not feeling well, so you should just come with me. You don’t know how to commute by yourself, anyway.”

You scoff at his remark, unable to refute. “I am. Hold on, let me find my stuff.”

The thought of sinking into your warm sheets with some hot chocolate manages to bring a little more color to your face as you rummage for your things. You tell Yunjin and Kazuha that you’re leaving ahead with the guys, and they stop their passionate karaoke-ing to send you off with a hug. “Take care. Text us when you guys get home.”

It’s a silent walk to the resort’s exit, and there’s still no sign of Jake who’s supposed to be driving you. “Where are the rest of the guys?” you ask him, entering the parking area outside the entrance.

“Hm?”

“Jake and Sunghoon,” you clarify hesitantly. Worry and nervousness starts to seep in. You’re starting to believe that you might have misunderstood something.

“I think they were kayaking when we left,” Taehyun replies. “Why?”

“I thought we were all leaving together?” you furrow your brows.

“No? I think they’ll leave after sundown.”

You screwed up big time. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, the situation slowly sinking in as you and Taehyun leave the resort’s premises and start walking down the side of the road to the bus stop. Oh no. You came here in Yunjin’s car and Taehyun doesn’t drive. That means you and Taehyun are going to be spending the three-hour commute back home together. Alone. Just when you started to suspect the traitorous feelings you have bubbling for your friend.

“Give me your bag. You look like you’d pass out any minute.”

You’re seriously so fucking screwed.

“Thanks.”

It’s okay, you tell yourself upon climbing up the bus, taking a seat near the back next to the window. Maybe it’s just a momentary weakness of your heart. Maybe it’s just a temporary vulnerability with all the things going on. Maybe you’ve just become pathetically desperate like Jake says (he did not). Taehyun leans over and you silently panic. He reaches over to the window next to you, flipping it open, then goes back to his seat like he didn’t just threaten to give you a cardiac arrest. “The air conditioning might make you nauseous,” he says. You’re nauseous enough as is.

The commute back home is quiet, but you aren’t able to rest easily throughout the whole three-hours due to your consciousness toward the friend sitting next to you. At least you managed to arrive back in Seoul in one piece.

It’s already dark out, street lights lit up in the city. Thinking that you can finally say goodbye to him, you tug your bag that’s firmly hung on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“We take different buses from here,” you say. “Thanks for carrying my stuff.”

Your bus makes a halt in front of you, and Taehyun goes up first. Wait. Holy shit. “If anything happens to you, Yunjin will have my head,” he simply says. “C’mon.”

Maybe you just catch feelings too easily, you conclude. You hope you can get rid of them just as quickly as you caught them.

You spend the first week of winter break in bed, on the sofa, on any warm and comfortable surface available in your apartment. It’s both out of need and out of choice— need, because an entire year of being around people is enough to run someone dry, and choice, because there is a good number of people you’ve been wanting to avoid, now that you aren’t forced by proximity and circumstance to be around them.

The same routine is happening for the last Sunday of the year. You’re in bed as the afternoon sun provokes you to do otherwise, but you aren’t listening. Your blankets and pillows bury you in their warmth while you’re scrolling through your phone. Until Taehyun gives you a call, out of nowhere.

“Hello?” you answer after three rings.

“I’m having dinner with your crush later,” he says, not bothering to greet you. “Well. We’re eating with his family. I’ll send you the restaurant. Why don’t you stop by so you can see him for a bit.”

He’s a little too supportive of your tiny, expired crush on Huening. “I told you guys, I’m over him. I’m looking for another crush,” that isn’t the person you’re talking to right now. This whole situation would be funny if you aren’t part of it. Too bad you are, and it makes you want to stab yourself.

“But what if you fall for him again once you see him.”

What’s stupid is that you don’t think he’s wrong. You were hardwired with a heart that gets swayed way too quickly, flutters a little too effortlessly, and gets smashed into tiny bits and pieces a little too easily, but it’s not something that you can just stop. The past year is proof of that— a testament of its inevitability.

“Go away. I’m going to sleep,” you roll to your side with a groan, pulling up the covers over your head. “Enjoy your dinner. Please stop trying to set me up with your friend.”

You hoped your college romance would be a straight path from meeting someone, to falling in love, to being loved back. Not this messy labyrinth of dead ends, twisted intersections, and back to starts.

“Who’s calling this time?!” If it’s Taehyun again, you’re going to uncrush and unfriend him, you swear.

With a groan, you grab your phone from the bedside table once more, and you nearly drop your phone when you see the caller ID. You didn’t think you’d ever ask for this, but can’t all these pretty boys please leave you alone this time?

“Choi Soobin,” you huff into the microphone.“This better not be about work.”

You’re nervous. There’s that familiar staggering of your heart rate again. “I’m guessing you’re enjoying your vacation,” you hear him say with a laugh. Something about hearing his deep voice so close to your ear is driving you insane.

“I am,” you reply, falling back to bed. “You usually just text me. You’ve never called me before. This is suspicious.”

He hums. “I text you if it’s about work.”

“So...this isn’t about work?”

Soobin is quiet for a moment, and you can feel the silence embed itself into your skin. You feel a jolt when you hear his voice again. “Are you busy? I just remembered that you owe me dinner.”

Now, it’s you that grows quiet.

“Sorry. If you’re too busy, you don’t have to—”

“No, I’m free,” you quickly reply. “Let’s have dinner.”

This could be an opportunity. Maybe if you go out with Soobin today, you'll finally clear up how you actually feel— for whom you are actually feeling. There is a possibility that you’ll return home with a heart more confused than when you left, but your racing heart is already chasing you out of bed.

“Can we meet at COEX in an hour?”

“Sounds good. See you.”

Shit, you’re actually doing this. You end up arriving ten minutes too early, but Soobin is already there, by the fountain, looking at his phone. “Choi Soobin!” you call out, and he looks up with a surprised look on his face, but melts into a smile half a second later. He shoots up his hand, waving, and calls out your full name in the same manner.

“You’re here early.”

“Says the guy who’s here earlier than me,” you raise a brow.

“I had some errands,” he says. “Where should we eat?”

It’s the end of the year, so the mall is more populated than usual. Mostly couples. There’s a pair in knitwear sitting on the fountain literally a few steps away from you. It’s like god is giving you a sign, telling you to hurry the fuck up. “You choose. I’m the one treating you.”

The both of you start walking around, eyes scanning through the shops lined along the walkways. “I can eat anywhere. I’m not picky.”

“Choi Soobin, you know I’m bad with decisions,” you tell him. “You’re the one who dragged me out of my apartment in the first place.”

“You’re making it sound like I forced you to eat with me.”

You stop in your tracks. “Wow,” you gasp. “You’re putting words in my mouth, Choi Soobin. How dare you when I generously decided to open my wallet for you.”

His smile opens into a toothy grin. “What’s with the face?”

“Nothing,” he hums, settling his hands on your shoulders and lightly pushing you into a direction. “Let’s eat here. Mingyu hyung recommended this place before.”

It’s a Chinese restaurant with an interior that you might have seen on social media before (maybe Mingyu’s insta, to be honest). The both of you are sitting at one of the center tables, tubes of lights hanging from above as you peruse through their menu. When your orders arrive, you split apart your chopsticks, staring heartily at the served meal. “For the record,” you say before digging in.“I do want to eat with you.”

“Thanks for the information.”

“You know, you’re kind of annoying sometimes.”

Soobin lets out a huff of air, smiling with stuffed cheeks and the both of you proceed with your meals. You can only hear the sound of your dishes and the occasional glass clatters. It’s literally just dinner. “So,” you mumble out. “Why did you join Shutter?��

He elicits a snort-cough, and he brings a napkin to his lips. “What is this? An interview?”

“It got quiet and I didn’t know what to say!” you press. “Just answer.”

“You’d know if you listened to my introduction at the welcome party,” he crows.“You already liked Beomgyu at that time, right?”

The food stops in your throat, caught off guard because why would he bring that up? You cough, swallowing a large gulp of water and when you set the glass back on the table, you look at him straight in the eye. “First of all— even if I was paying attention, I wouldn’t even remember because that was months ago.”

“I remember yours,” he says, as a matter of fact. “You said you wanted a space apart from your major, and that it’d make your university life a lot more exciting.”

Well. You can’t verify that because you don’t remember what you said at that time. You were too occupied staring at Beomgyu. “Se—second!” you bristle. “How did you know that I already liked him then? I don’t think I’ve ever told you.”

“Your eyes were following him the entire night. It’s like there’s a magnet in there somewhere.”

You stop eating altogether, utensils clattering on the plate. Wouldn’t that mean his eyes were following you, too? He didn’t even think twice before saying that, and now he’s back to picking on the remaining food on his plate like it’s nothing, and your phone buzzes like a warning signal.

“What’s wrong?” Soobin asks as you frown at your phone screen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have talked about Shutter,” you complain. “Mingyu messaged the group chat. He’s asking if anyone can run some errands for the event.”

At first, the plan was to have a year-end party and a sensitivity training (“sensi” for short) for the officers, but with the majority of your members returning home to their hometowns for the holidays, you decided to merge the two events in the second week of January instead. Mingyu is eyeing Gapyeong for the party and sensi, and the itinerary has already been prepared by Myungho.

Soobin hums in acknowledgement. “What does he need?”

It’s the 31st of December. Most shops will be closed tomorrow and the next day. There are still some materials that need to be bought, so your Chairperson is asking if there’s anyone who can pick up some stuff from the list. “Ugh,” you groan, finishing up your meal. “No one else is replying and I already read his message. You don’t mind if we stop by some stores, right?”

“Not at all,” he replied. “I borrowed my brother’s car, so I can take the stuff home with me.”

The both of you leave the restaurant and enter a stationery store to pick up some vellum boards, parchment papers, envelopes, and the like. You need to go back to the office within the week for some last minute work— so much for the new year, but aside from some light hearted complaints, you don’t really mind. “Can you check if there’s some sticker paper in the other aisle?” you ask Soobin. The both of you still need to finalize the certificate designs and the tarpaulin sign. You’ll remind him once he gets back.

After double checking your basket, you check out all the items and send Mingyu the receipt. “What else do we need?” asks Soobin. He takes the paper bags from the counter and you two exit the store.

“Uh. We need some wooden panels. They probably have those in hardware stores, right?”

Lucky for you, they do. You and Soobin wait behind a wall of fake plants as the employee leaves to cut the panels into the size Mingyu instructed and as you’re waiting, you let your gaze wander around the store until you look up and pause when your eyes land on your tall friend. You’ve never noticed before, but Choi Soobin actually looks pretty intimidating with a straight face. He’s staring off into space, brows in a slight knit, but when he looks down and notices that you’re looking at him, he lifts his eyebrows, curious, and a dimple peeks through when he presses his lips together. “What is it?”

You cough, looking away. “We haven’t talked about this yet. I remember you telling me you liked someone last summer.”

“Mm, right. I did,” he says.

Hesitant, you drawl out. “Do you still like the same person now?”

“Yeah.” He says it flatly, picking on the plastic leaf of a plant hanging above you. You cock your head. He’s way too nonchalant about this that you start to second guess.

“Is that why you couldn’t give Yura a chance?”

“It would be unfair for her when I have feelings for someone else.”

“I know. And Yura isn’t telling me to distance myself from you or anything. I know we haven’t hung out lately outside of Shutter, but trust me it’s not because of that,” you assure. “Did you tell her who you like?”

He looks at you. “I did.”

“Do you plan on telling me?” you blurt out before hesitation smashes into you. You avoid eye contact, trying to justify yourself, “It’s not fair that you’re a witness to all of my romantic pitfalls in the first half of the year, but I don’t even know the person you like.”

You know you’re blabbing. You know Soobin knows because he’s flashing you a cheeky smile. “Do you wanna know?”

“Of course. I’m curious.” You hope he doesn’t notice you’re trying to bait him. Half of you wants to hear your name fall from his lips, rolling off his tongue like it’s meant to be, and you’d be untangled from your confusing feelings, but the other half is scared because you wouldn’t know how to react. You’re still in the fucking hardware store, for god’s sake, waiting for the god damned wood panels to arrive.

“Why?”

Suddenly, he dips down his head, noses closer than ever, and you gulp. “Why do you wanna know?” No words leave your throat and you can’t hear anything other than the deep, reverberating thumps from inside your chest. Soobin backs away before anything else, a smile still present on his lips. “You’ll find out. I haven’t been doing my best to hide it, anyway.”

The employee returns with the panels. You pay for them and it’s late into the evening when you exit into the parking lot and load all the items you bought into his (brother’s) car’s compartment. “I’ll drop you off,” he says, closing down the trunk.

“Thanks,” you reply, and he smiles, shooing you into the passenger’s seat.

It sinks in belatedly, when you’re already a few songs into his driving playlist, that you haven’t given Soobin your address but he’s going in the right direction. He didn’t even ask. Confirming your suspicions, he pulls up right in front of your apartment building, and the doors unlock with a click. “How’d you know where I live?” you raise a brow.

“When Myungho hyung gave us a ride last time,” he answers. “He dropped you off first. Did you think I was stalking you?”

“No. I just wanted to tease you, but you’ve been turning the tables on me all day,” you roll your eyes, unbuckling yourself from the seat. “You used to be so nervous and quiet all the time. Choi Soobin, you’ve grown.”

You thank him for the ride and push open the door, squirming to get off but Soobin suddenly grabs your wrist, and you jerk your head back, surprised. It’s warm where his fingers are wrapped around, a firm grip that feels a lot more intimate than when he was all up in your space at the festival, than when you fell to the ground with his arms around your waist.

He appears to be just as surprised as you are, but the words quickly come pouring out. “I’m still nervous. It took me four tries to give your number a call earlier and I was so relieved when you actually picked up,” he confesses. “I was nervous during dinner, nervous all throughout the car ride, and I’m still nervous now.” You can feel that his hand is slightly damp, circling around yours. “I just wanted to let you know before you go.”

When Soobin lets go, you can feel the cold air nipping at your skin from where he’s been holding. You made the right choice in going out today. Things are a lot clearer now.

The feelings you have for Choi Soobin aren’t sudden— an onslaught of petals from blossoming trees, heat waves from the corshing midday sun, orange fireworks on the cobblestone ground, or the gusts of wind from a December evening that hit you without warning. It’s gradual, accumulated over the seasons in the form of spring showers that extend into the ber months, a summer cold you can’t get rid of, the fall sweater you have nestled inside your closet until flowers start blooming, and the warmth that comforts when the rest of the world freezes into oblivion.

They’ve been building up— slowly but surely until the glass is tipped over, spilling into your veins, and you can’t deny it anymore.

“Thanks for today,” you give him a smile. “Drive safe. Text me when you get home.”

“Will do. Happy new year.”

“Happy new year.”

You wait until he disappears into the street before getting inside the building. Choi Soobin has been your spring, summer, autumn, and winter. It took the last day of the year for you to realize that.

It’s the day before your trip with Shutter to Gapyeong. You’ve already finished all your assigned tasks, so you’re able to hang out with your friends at Jay’s place today. For the meantime, you’re all treating his condo as if it’s your own.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Jake suggests. He’s laying flat on the sofa, his head next to yours while you sit on the carpet, destroying Sunghoon’s ass in a game of chess. When no one replies, everyone else busy doing their own things to even hear him, he gives up and falls to the floor next to you. “You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yup. Checkmate, Hoonie,” you reply, killing Sunghoon’s king and gloating your victory.

“You all ready to go?” he asks. “I can help you pack if you haven’t.”

“How bored are you, Jake?” you laugh at him. “Yunjin and Kazuha already promised to help me later, but I guess you can tag along.” He looks satisfied with the arrangement, and he wiggles off of the floor to dig through Jay’s kitchen.

Well. You’re almost ready for the trip tomorrow. But besides packing, there’s still one thing you need to settle within yourself before facing your friends and colleagues from Shutter again. “Guys,” you announce after cleaning up the chess set. “Can I tell you something?”

“Is it a new crush?” Kazuha asks, and you hear Taehyun snort. You can neither confirm nor deny her accusation. When did you become so predictable?

“Let’s say I like someone,” you start, and your friends start gathering in the living room, ready to listen to the new boy of the season. “And all signs are saying that he likes me too.” This elicits a gasp from Yunjin and a very obnoxious oooooh from Jake.

“Depends on the signs,” Jake snorts. “Have you been watching tarot readings on TikTok again?”

“Fuck you. I stopped doing that when Yeonjun ghosted me,” you shoot him a glare, and he raises his hands up defensively. “But anyway. It’s already like— really, seriously, obvious that he likes me and all that’s left is for him to say it himself—”

“Ask him out already.”

“But I have a friend who also likes him.” They grow quiet. “What should I do?”

Kazuha is the first person to speak up. “Does she know the guy is into you instead?”

“We’re assuming he’s into me. He rejected her saying he likes someone else,” you explain. “But I don’t think she’s over him yet.”

“Here I thought your love life is finally turning around,” Yunjin groans.

“I can’t fully entertain him without the underlying feeling of guilt because my friend was literally crying over him when they were out for drinks the other day!” you pause, then clarify your statement. “I wasn’t there when it happened. Mingyu told me. It would’ve been terrible if I was there.”

Taehyun sinks into the sofa handle, arms crossed in thought. “This is a little complicated.”

“Right?” you sigh, deflating into the cushions. “Maybe I should just give up. Maybe romance isn’t for me.”

“It’s literally not that complicated, you idiots.” Sunghoon speaks up for the first time, and you look at him. His expression is that of annoyance, mainly direction towards you, and he continues, “If you think he’s worth risking your friendship, then go for it. But if a boy is enough to ruin your friendship, then your friendship is bullshit. Go talk to her first and I’m sure she’ll understand. Maybe it’ll even get her to move on.”

“Holy shit,” Jay gapes. “Why are you making sense for once?”

He’s right. Sunghoon is making sense. Yet there’s still a lingering hesitation clawing at your throat and preventing you from agreeing. “But what if I’m just being delusional and he doesn’t actually like m—”

“Be honest.” Taehyun cuts you off before you could spiral. “Are you hesitant because you’re afraid of hurting your friend, or are you afraid now that the real thing is waiting in front of you?”

Quiet washes the apartment as your friends allow you to simmer in Taehyun’s words. Throughout the past year, you’ve always been the one pouring out love from all your senses, so much and so often that you’re afraid you’d run out, but you never do. It just keeps on pouring and pouring— a momentary stop— but it gushes out again like a perpetual fountain of red. Now that there are hints of the roles reversing, you’ve froze. You know that you’re using Yura too much as an excuse to justify yourself.

You’re always the one pouring— never the one receiving, and now you have no idea what to do.

IT STARTED AS A LIGHT SHOWER, but in the middle of the bus ride to Gapyeong, the rain begins to pour, harder and harder to the point that you can hear it through the music in your earphones. You pull out the buds, looking at the window. “Damn, I guess we have to cancel the outdoor activities today,” you say, and Mingyu overhears from in front of you.

“Let’s hope it stops raining in the afternoon,” he sighs, worried. “We can’t have a barbecue party indoors.”

You’re sitting beside Yura. The girl is already fast asleep, understandable since you all met at five in the morning to do some last minute organizing at the office. It’s now ten in the morning, thirty minutes until you arrive at the place, and the rain is showing no signs of stopping. Mingyu senses the grayness in the air and picks up a megaphone, spits out a generic “let’s have some fun!” message, and proceeds to play some tunes.

It works, because through the rest of the ride to Gapyeong, you’re all screaming Taylor Swift lyrics loud enough to block off the hissing rain, so when the bus stops in front of the place you guys rented for two days and one night, you’re surprised it’s still pouring.

“Well, shit,” you say underneath your umbrella, Mingyu pathetically trying to shrink his frame to fit alongside you, and you reach an arm out from under its protection, feeling the cold droplets soaking your skin. “This is gonna last a while.”

“We should all have lunch first,” he says. “This is gonna be fine. We have a lot prepared.”

You nod. “You guys get inside first,” he says before running off into the second bus that arrived to give Myungho some instructions.

You peek into the bus, “Those with umbrellas, please share with those who don’t. It’s a short run to the accommodation. Please don’t forget to bring your valuables with you.” You watch by the doors as your orgmates leave in two’s and three’s uphill, and you can feel yourself starting to get damp due to the unstable direction of the rainfall.

The last person comes out, and he ducks underneath your umbrella. It’s Soobin. Your eye’s meet, and he’s wearing a sheepish grin. Before you know it, he’s got his hand wrapped on yours, tightly clutching the umbrella handle and suddenly, puddles are splashing underneath your feet as you run into the same direction. A squeak escapes your throat when you hear the rain pour harder, and Soobin pulls you closer with his free hand as the rain threatens to soak you.

“Are you two shooting a youth drama?”

You’re out of breath when you reach the porch of the large house, but you still manage to shoot Heeseung a dirty look for that comment. You glance at Soobin, who still has your umbrella. He’s ruffling his hair and shaking his head like a wet puppy. “I’ll go grab the boxes from the bus. Can I borrow this for a while?” You nod, and he smiles. “Come and help me,” he drags the unwilling Heeseung back into the pouring rain, and you turn back, nudging everyone to get inside the house once they’ve dried up.

“Oh, look who we have here,” you turn to see Jeonghan, walking back out with two mops from the house. “You look pretty happy for someone who just got rained on.”

Your eyes land on Yura, and guilt settles when you catch her expression before she goes back to smiling at Jeonghan and takes the other mop from him. You plan on having a conversation with her later, and you plan on settling everything today. “The day will come where I’ll eventually kick your ass, seonbae. Please reflect on your sins until then.” You bid him off with a bland smile, and you settle inside the warm floors of the room.

It’s two houses connected to each other, two floors each, large enough for twenty to thirty people in total. Mingyu says he’s unsure if there will be enough room upstairs for everyone to sleep in, but there are some that won’t be staying overnight, and you’re sure that the sleeping arrangements will be wherever everyone ends up passing out after getting alcohol-bombed throughout the night.

“Alright, everyone please gather around!”

Mingyu’s voice pierces through the dozens of conversations happening at once. It’s a miracle that the rain is finally letting up after you finish your lunch. “T-shirts are distributed by size so please line up in front of the assigned officers. You can change immediately after receiving yours.”

You’re only able to change into the Shutter shirt after handing out everything from your pile. You happen to bump into Beomgyu after changing, walking down the stairs. “Cute. The shirt looks good on you.” You’re taken aback, but you laugh out a smile.

“Thanks. Did you get yours yet?”

“No. Mingyu hyung is holding it hostage upstairs.”

“Good luck,” you tell him. “I’ll go set up the projector.”

You hop down the last set of steps and are immediately blocked by Soobin when you turn to the living room, bumping into him. “Oh,” you look up. “Were you here the whole time?”

“I was waiting for you,” he says, picking on a stray thread from your shirt collar, and he flicks it off to the side. “I couldn’t find the file for the presentation.”

“Ah, it’s with me. Hold on.”

You drag Soobin into the little tech-area you set up in the living space, passing through the lights the machine is projecting at the white cloth set up against a wall. As you’re tinkering on the laptop, looking for the PPT you made somewhere in the chaos of your files, Soobin is leaning down and watching you work, one arm outstretched on the back of your chair to balance himself. “I thought I didn’t like him anymore,” he says out of nowhere. You stop digging through your files and look up at him— oh, Beomgyu— then resume. His face tells you that it’s just to provoke you, but you entertain his provocations anyway.

“I don’t,” you reply. “But I do like being called cute.”

“Hmm,” he sounds out. “That’s right. Yeonjun hyung called you cute, too.”

You cough out a noise. “What are you getting at, Choi Soobin?”

He laughs at the dirty look you’re giving him. “I just wanted to say that I think you’re cute too.”

For someone who admitted that he gets nervous sweats around you, he sure is getting shameless and bold. You ignore the heat prickling at your cheeks, slamming your hands down the table after opening up the presentation, and leaving into the kitchen to get some of the lemon water Myungho made. If Mingyu were to see you right now, he’d be having a mother fucking field day. Thank god he’s busy keeping everything in check.

“Alright, it’s time to officially start Shutter.TXT’s new year’s party and sensitivity training! We’ll begin with an opening message from our very own Chairperson, Kim Mingyu, and after that, the anonymous message table will be opened once more. Chair, you have the floor.”

Beomgyu and Yura are hosting today (after the last event, you’re sure Mingyu decided that hosting isn’t for him). You’re back next to Soobin, helping him manage the technicals, and the afternoon passes by with the various party games you guys prepared— with prizes, of course because no one would join without an incentive. The screen is projecting a picture of Yoon Jeonghan as a baby and everyone yells out their names, hands raised to guess who the pudgy gremlin is. He didn’t submit the photo, of course. You had to dig into his mother’s Facebook account to find it.

“Correct! The answer is our Business Manager, Yoon Jeonghan!” You click to the next slide as Chan runs up front to get his prize. “Before we head to picking the raffle winners sponsored by our Chair, let’s take a break and pick out some messages from the confession box first!”

Your memory flashes back to one confession you got last time, and your eyes flash up at Soobin. “Did you send anything?” you ask him.

“Maybe I did,” he hums. “You?”

“I didn’t have the time,” you reply, a smile tugging on your lips. “So I might just end up doing it in person.”

Your attention is caught when you hear Beomgyu read one of the messages into the microphone, and you hear your full name echoing through the speakers. “Ohhh, this one’s for our Assistant Layout Director!” and he repeats for your full name once more. You look at Soobin, but choose not to say anything when he’s so intently waiting for Beomgyu to read out loud the message. “I’ve liked you since March of last year and my feelings have only grown as each month passes. What other signs should I give you?” He’s practically pouring his heart into your lap and you’ve been so stupid as to ignore it with every passing season.

“Alright, alright, everyone please settle down, I know that last one was thrilling but we have another confession for—”

The rest of the activities finished without a hitch, and Heeseung managed to win the ramen cooker Mingyu bought as the grand prize for the raffle. When the sun fell and stars started settling in the sky, the front yard finally dried up enough for everyone to set up for dinner.

“Hyung! Come take over the grill!”

Smoke fills the air as you bump glasses over the picnic table, and soft music hums from the portable speakers Beomgyu brought. The night is cool, still stuck in the middle of winter. You leave a pat on Chan’s shoulder before you leave the group, passing by the large blue cooler near the grill to scoop up two beer cans before sauntering over to the downslope path.

There isn’t a staircase, so you’re careful with your steps, slightly buzzed from the early shots you had earlier. Your eyes land on Yura, sitting on the grassy knoll while staring off into the treeline. “Hey,” you greet her, and she looks up behind. You raise the blue can, smiling. “Brought something to refresh our emcee’s throat. You did a great job today.”

She smiles.“Thanks. You too.”

You take a seat next to her on the ground and your cans open together with a hiss, clinking lid tops before taking a hefty swig in mutual silence. After a while, you speak up. “We’re both working too hard,” you say. “But we didn’t even get to win a single damned prize from the raffle.”

“I would’ve been happy with the box of tampons, honestly,” she laughs.

“Me too. Even the dead matchstick would be good enough.”

The tree leaves rustle when a breeze passes. You know what you came up to her for, but you don’t know how to bring it up. The metal is cold between your teeth as you ponder, biting on the beer can after you let the drink sizzle down your throat.

Much to your surprise, it’s Yura that brings it up. “I want to tell you that I’m completely over Soobin,” she says. “I should’ve moved on after the first rejection, but I think the second one was enough to give me a reality check.”

You stare at her. “Are— are you serious?”

“Just pretend and believe that I am. Don’t ask questions,” he proclaims, closing her eyes with an affirmative nod. You can see her veins popping on the back of her hand as she holds the can.“Yup. So don’t hold yourself back anymore and do whatever you want.” You eye her in worry. It doesn’t go past her radar. Yura settles the drink on the ground beside her and grabs your two hands.

She pulls them close to her, smiling. “We’re friends. I’ll always be happy for you.”

You don’t need her to say it outright. Maybe it’s better for her that way. Your hands wrap around her and you give her a squeeze. “Thanks.”

“Ah,” she starts cocking her head. “This should’ve happened sooner. Gosh, I need another drink. Let’s go raid the cooler.”

With that she pulls you up and drags you back to the rest of your peers. As soon as you’re within earshot, Mingyu calls out the both of you to eat more, boasting how nicely he grilled the beef this time. “We’ll be the judge of that!” Yura yells back, and you spend the rest of the night with a few weeks worth of weight on your chest finally lifted, making it easier for you to breathe in the clean air of the rural neighborhood.

Your initial predictions are right. At three in the morning, almost everyone is passed out scattered areas of the two houses, and you’re having a bit of difficulty trying to evade the obstacle of bodies when you enter the living room after cleaning up outside. I doubt we could go through with the program in the morning, you think when you pass by Beomgyu’s unconscious body hanging onto Heeseung as you make your way up the stairs to wash up. Waking everyone up would take at least two hours.

It’s a lot more civilized upstairs. Some of the girls gathered in one room and are sleeping soundly on the mats and blankets. You do your best to keep quiet as you prepare for the night, but even after bathing and giving yourself a change of clothes, the moonlight from the open window keeps you up with its brightness. You give up sleeping and head back downstairs. There, you see a familiar silhouette snuggled up on the couch and taking up all of its space. He’s squirming when you walk up to him, tugging the blanket that’s half on the ground, and you let out a soundless laugh.

You’re on the floor watching Soobin’s face scrunch up as he sleeps. His mouth is pouting, and one of his arms hangs off the sofa when he turns, facing you. You bring your knees closer to your chest. He’s pretty even when sleeping.

Right when you plan on leaving, you hear him mumble out your name— in full, like he always does. It’s barely coherent, a slur of syllables, but you can recognize your name in his voice. “You’re still awake...?” he asks, rubbing his barely open eyes. You settle yourself back down with a smile, hugging your knees.

“Mhm,” you reply. “I was thinking.”

He’s still half-asleep. You can tell when tries getting up but he only makes it a few inches up the sofa before his head surrenders to the armrest. You shouldn’t be making any noise. There’s at least five more people sleeping in the room, but a noise escapes in spite of your tightly pressed lips when his fallen arm reaches out for your hand, looping his index finger with your pinky. “What were you thinking about?”

Your hands fiddle around with his, tracing invisible shapes on each print and surface as his hazy eyes flutter back and forth in between wake and sleep. “I was thinking about how much I like you,” you say softly. “That’s why I couldn’t sleep.”

Silence befalls, and you’re sure he’s dozed off again. But when you turn to check on him, his eyes are fully open, wide awake. You’re still holding his hand, waiting for something to happen, and that something happens when you feel his gentle but firm grip on your wrist, pulling you up from the ground and your footsteps patter against the moonlight leaking into the wooden living room floor, until a sharp cold bites your feet when you enter the kitchen.

“Okay,” he exhales with a voice clearer than his earlier murmurs, still holding your hand. It’s dark. You can barely see anything, but there’s enough light from the window to make-up Soobin’s silhouette, and you’re still breathless from the sudden sprint. “I’ll give you five seconds to take back what you said, but if you—”

It’s soft, you think. So soft, when adrenaline takes over you and you jerk forward, lips clumsily bumping into each other in exhilaration. Soobin’s wide eyes are staring into yours, and neither are moving away. You’re not sure if it’s your own heart beat you’re hearing, his, or the both of yours thumping in an unfamiliar rhythm.

“Is someone there?”

You’re tugged away again, and before you know it you’re crouched under a table, and all the light you can see are the streams pouring underneath the small gap between the floor and the tablecloth.

“Did you hear something?”

“I thought there was someone here.”

Your eyes flash up from the ground and you’re once again met with Soobin’s clear gaze. It’s a small table, and Soobin is trying his hardest not to collapse onto you. His arms cage you in between, and you cover his head with your hands so he doesn’t bump against the table.

“Probably from outside.”

You can only guess your expression right now. It’s probably mirroring his— panting ever the slightest, trying his best not to smile too much, trying to soak in the moment that’s been months in the waiting.

It’s the first time your apartment has been this loud.

You don’t know what you got yourself into. A merger between your friends from your major and your friends from Shutter was a disaster waiting to happen. And it is happening. Beomgyu and Taehyun shouldn’t have met, Myungho shouldn’t be drinking with Jay and the rest right now, and you can hear Mingyu talking shit about how he knew you and Soobin were meant to be from the very beginning to every person he sees.

“I’ve been shipping them since day one!” he proclaims proudly to Jake. “Your friend wouldn’t believe me when I—” and your boyfriend promptly tells him to shut up, Jeonghan teasing him along with Heesung.

“When I saw them at the festival, I knew something was up!”

“I made a mistake,” you say out loud. “Holy crap, this is noisy.”

Then you’re dragged by the girls for questioning when Yunjin and Kazuha spill to Yura your series of unfortunate romantic events last year until Soobin happened. “You guys are missing a detail,” you sigh. “It’s time to be honest. I also had a crush on Taehyun for a total of like, two days.”

“What?” exclaims Yunjin?

“What?” echoes the rest of your friends.

“Hold on, when did this happen?” Soobin is back to your side. You haven’t told him either. He only knows up until Huening.

“Christmas party. It was a temporary moment of weakness because I was sad and hormonal,” you explain. “Don’t look at me like that, Choi Soobin. It didn’t last long. Things became clear when we went out for dinner on new year’s eve.”

You hear a gag from Sunghoon and Yunjin freaks out. “You had dinner together?! How come I wasn’t aware of this?”

“Ew, I can’t believe you had a crush on one of us,” spouts Jay, but Jake quickly turns it against him.

“Like you’re one to talk. You had a crush on her throughout the first week of classes.”

“Now, why the fuck would you tell her that?”

They fight. You take the opportunity to escape the scene, dragging Soobin to the safe space of your room before you can get a headache from the mess outside. “I think I should’ve just introduced you to them one by one,” you sigh against the door. “I’m sorry. They must’ve been tiring.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he assures, already taking a spot on the floor beside your bed. “Of course, it’s still better when it’s just you and me.”

Slowly, you pull yourself off the door and plant yourself right in front of him, sitting cross legged. He waits for you to speak, eyes expectant. You give in. “Are you upset that I didn’t tell you about my two day crush on Taehyun?” You didn’t expect him to laugh at that.

“No. I’m actually glad you didn’t,” he starts. Soobin leans forward a little, picking up your hands from the floor and he starts twiddling with them as he lets his mind speak. “I was always hesitant to do or say anything because you always had your eyes set on someone else, but I just couldn’t do nothing. I liked you a lot, and I only fell deeper as we got closer. I thought I might explode if I didn’t let it out somehow. I only got the courage to call you that day because I thought you didn’t have feelings for anybody anymore,”

“But I did,” you correct. “I’m pretty sure I already liked you then.”

You pause for a moment. “Actually, I’m sure I liked you even before that.”

He breathes out a smile. “I’m glad.” Soobin lets go of you— only for a moment because he lets himself sink forward, arms locking you in place like the time you were trapped under the table during the Shutter outing. It’s late at night, too. Nothing but the moon illuminating the floorboards through your bedroom window, except this time, your eyes aren’t looking at each other. You follow his gaze, and you let out a little laugh. “Choi Soobin,” you call out, and his eyes snap back up. “You know, you can kiss me if you want to, right?”

It’s like he said. He gets nervous around you. You can see him swallow hesitantly, the air around you growing thicker, and he breathes out, “Are— are you sure?”

You dip your fingers into his hair, and he chases after when you trail them down to his cheek. His face is soft, softer than a gentle spring bloom. “You can do whatever you want."

Soobin presses his lips together. “Then...close your eyes”

Your eyes follow, and within a few seconds you can feel nothing but the teasing burn of his lips barely grazing above yours like it’s the summer sun, but then feel his grip on your shoulder, and the air gets colder when you suddenly feel a distance.

He’s red when you open your eyes, a pretty shade of warm, autumn sienna painting his cheeks and ears. “Sorry, I just—”

You don’t let him finish. You pull yourself into him and the plush of his lips are soft against yours— still as soft as you remember and you let yourself drown in his heat and warmth, and he does the same, tugging you onto his lap so he can pour all his year’s worth of love and ardor into you with every kiss, peck, whisper like it’s a winter present.

“You’re really doing whatever you want,” you laugh as soon as he presses a kiss on the skin peeking from your left shoulder.

“I’ve been holding back for months,” he whines into your neck, arms firmly wrapped around your waist with no intention of letting go. “Let’s stay here for a little longer. The guys outside can take care of themselves.”

Choi Soobin has been pouring his love into you all throughout spring and summer, fall and winter, even when you were too caught up in momentary shifts of the season to notice. Now, you won’t even let a drop fall astray, catching every last bit as you do the same for him. He’s a spring shower that extends into December, a summer cold you never want to get rid of, a fall sweater you’re wearing in the middle of May, and the cold nights that visit all throughout the year.

love vomit. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #txt soobin x reader #tomorrow x together scenarios #choi soobin scenarios #txt soobin scenarios #txt scenarios #choi soobin au #choi soobin fanfic

[sadembryhours]

can please you write about an autistic readerx Peter Parker or Gilbert Blythe? (if you could do romantic that’s would be nice but you do whatever you want✨) I think they would be PERFECT for this!!! Thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

burning candles! ♥︎ tasm!peter parker

synopsis : autistic!reader waits for peter to find someone better. [that time never comes]

cw ; comfort , not all autistic people are the same, this is just how it is for me! , lowercase intended , [name] used in place of y/n

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

there’s a puzzle in front of you, half-done as the steaming mug beside you warms the air. there are headphones on your ears, playing the video you’d been thinking about all day.

placing the last blue-colored piece, you take a small break to stretch your limbs. after looking at the full size picture, you decide yellow will be the chosen color next. you blink, eyes tired and back aching but your mind refusing to let you rest until the puzzle is done.

a small, hesitant tap hits your left shoulder. you jump slightly, head turning slowly to see beat up converse falling off of mismatched socks. you sigh, “hi, peter.”

“hey, lovey.” he smiles — you can’t see it with your back to him, but you can hear the grin he holds. a soft brush to your back before he sits on the chair behind you. “wanna join me up here for a bit?”

you do, placing your headphones on the table and grabbing your drink. you allow peter to grab you, maneuvering your body until you’re sideways on his lap. he sighs happily, “missed you today.”

you smile, eyes still on your favorite mug. “missed you, too. your cologne smells nice.”

“it’s new!” peter grins again. his nose hits your temple, lips popping onto your cheekbone, trailing down to your cheek slowly. “glad you like it. thought you would.”

the room grows quiet as peter scrolls through his phone, his left hand rubbing your back. you take a peek at his feed, dimming a bit at how fun it looked. pool parties ; clubbing ; long drives that lead to a road trip — you felt like you made him miss out on it all.

“will you get bored of me?”

peter pauses, his thumb hovering over his phone. you stiffen, nails grinding against the ceramic in your hands. “why would you ask that?”

you shrug and try to divert him — try to change the subject. it’s too late, though, as peter sets his phone down and focuses on you. “[name]. why would i get bored of you?”

“im not very fun,” you admit. you glance at him fleetingly, seeing how sincere and warm his eyes were. “i stay in and do boring things like puzzles. you might want to do more and i won’t let you.”

“you don’t force me here against my will.” peter’s tone is aghast — offended almost as he speaks. his hold tightens momentarily as he scoots you closer. “i like watching you do things you enjoy. even if you think they’re boring.”

your gaze falls again as you adjust his phone to sit the way you want it to. your fingers curl at the habit, pulling your hand away from it slowly. “even when i do things like that?”

“yeah,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “it makes you feel better. that’s all i care about — your comfort.”

your eyebrows furrow, nose scrunching. “that’s weird. you should care for yourself more.”

peter laughs again, his nose poking your temple as he kisses the side of your ear. “that’s what you’re for, hm?”

——♥︎——

you didn’t specify which peter this was for, so i hope this is okay ♥︎ thank you for your request!!

sadembryhours © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know.

#autistic!reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #Peter Parker comfort #the amazing Spider-Man x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #autistic reader #— ​request!

[pinkacademiaprincess]

Hi! I’m about to start uni in October (law)

Can you give me a list of to-dos to mentally and physically prepare for this new journey? Like, things to bring, items to buy, notebooks etc 🥹💘

Operation Straight-A Student: A Comprehensive Guide to Prepping for a Successful Uni Experience 🎀📚💗✏���

ty for the ask! i'm not a law student, so this is gonna be more general uni advice that i hope can apply for you. best of luck in your journey, you're gonna do amazing things!!

step no. 1: plan, plan, plan!

for me, being organized & prepping ahead of time has been so helpful. even if things get a bit hectic or tough, having a routine to fall back on is key. here's how i do it!

google calendar

as soon as i have my class schedule, i input all my class meeting times on google calendar. then, based on whatever free space is left over, i allocate time for schoolwork and studying. here's the schedule i designed for this upcoming term:

make sure your study/ classwork time accounts for whatever online courses you're taking too. you should also include blocks for work, club meetings, etc. if they're recurring. i have google calendar linked to my phone so i get notifs for each time block.

planner

i recommend having a good planner. whether this is online or physical, depending on your preference, a weekly planner of your own is helpful for staying on top of work & having peace of mind.

the planner i use is the moleskine weekly planner. here is what it looks like inside:

on the left side i write all the tasks i have on each weekday (similar to the google calendar). on the right side, i list all the tasks i have to complete during that given week - i open the syllabi for all my classes and input whatever hw, assignments, projects, etc. are upcoming. i write them down in a checklist along with the date they're due. then, during my study blocks, i can check this page & decide what to work on!

note-taking & classwork

you should also have supplies for note-taking. some ppl prefer to take digital notes, so this means using your laptop or a tablet & stylus. personally, i like to take handwritten notes, so i bring loose-leaf lined paper & pencils to my lectures. i write the class name & date as the header for each page. when i'm done taking notes, i write the key topics in the top left-hand corner of the pager (in "no-man's land") so i can easily find the notes on specific topics when i'm flipping through them.

in terms of classwork, i recommend having a folder for each of your classes where you can store notes, assignments, tests, etc. i know some people use one big binder for all classes, but if you have a separate folder for each, you don't have to carry them all around on days when you only have two or three classes. i like the brand five star bc the folders are very durable and i've had the same ones all throughout uni!

for me, i've never been a huge notebook person b/c i like to keep my subjects separate so i rarely fill up an entire notebook. you can buy one to start with, and see once school starts if you think you need more!

other supplies

in terms of supplies, i'm honestly pretty minimalistic. the necessities for me are my planner, a folder & loose-leaf paper, and a pencil pouch with plenty of pens & pencils. i also bring my laptop & charger with me to school bc i use that for my online classes.

i do enjoy having cute supplies! i have a cute pink pencil pouch, glittery mechanical pencils, and fun pens. i also put stickers all over my laptop to give it a personal touch. i did a bit of embroidery on my backpack as well. you don't need to spend tons of money on aesthetic supplies, especially if it's something you won't have for long. but, finding simple ways to add a personal touch to your items can be fun & motivating!

step no. 2: make an action plan

i feel like it's easy to tell yourself you wanna do certain things or be a certain person during school. for example, i always want to be super studious, outgoing, & involved, but i used to struggle sm to actually do that. instead of only thinking of how you want to be, create actual steps/ tasks for yourself. here are my action items for inspo:

sit in the front row of every class - this can be daunting, but in my uni experience, wherever you sit in the first week becomes your (un)official assigned seat. get to class early, take a deep breath, and sit yourself down at the front! you'll be forcing yourself to stay at the front, but i promise it's fine! i really prefer this b/c if you & the prof get to class early you can chat a bit. also, when i wanna participate, i can speak at my regular volume & they'll hear me (rather than if i'm in the back row and had to scream). if nothing else, you'll become a familiar face!

attend office hours for each class at least once - i sometimes felt nervous/ anxious to go to office hours and talk to the professors & ta. but when you do it once, you realize they truly just want to help! getting to know the ppl who grade your assignments can be super useful. they might give you advice or info you don't get in lectures. plus, they are super knowledgeable!

raise your hand once per week - this forces you to be engaged with the content. i used to have such horrible social anxiety & the thought of speaking up in class & getting an answer wrong was my worst nightmare. and when i set this rule & began forcing myself to participate, i did make mistakes. but guess what... everyone moves on immediately. you might feel like the world is ending. it haunted me for weeks after 😢 but no one else cares! in the end, ppl will only remember that you were confident enough to raise your hand & speak up, not what you said. pls don't let your education suffer just b/c you're afraid some classmates might judge you! if raising your hand to answer problems is too daunting, start with asking clarifying questions & slowly build up to whatever you're able to do.

start a conversation with a classmate - having classmates that you're friendly with is so important. if you miss a lecture, need help on a concept, etc. you'll have someone you can turn to. and that's the least of it - you can end up making long-lasting friends! yes, it's scary to talk to a stranger. so, force yourself to do it as early as possible in the semester. an easy one - if you see someone sitting by an empty seat, ask if that seat is taken. if not, yay! it's go time 😊 sit by them and find something else to talk about - give them a (genuine & non-creepy) compliment, ask them if they've seen the syllabus, ask if they know the prof, etc. just something to get the convo started!! figure out their name, major, and other stuff too. once you've talked with them long enough to feel like you're getting along (whether that's after one class or multiple) ask for their number/ discord/ whatever so you can keep in touch! if they share your major, you should keep in contact with them b/c you might have other classes together in the future. but, again, in the best-case scenario, you have a new friend!

wear a cute outfit once per week - sometimes i would get a bit embarrassed or self-conscious to dress up for class. i forced myself to do it once per week, starting the first week of class, to set a precedent for myself. slowly i eased my way into wearing cute, fun outfits every day! no one is judging you as much as you are judging yourself, so have fun & be true to you.

step no. 3: study smarter, not harder

attending class is one thing, but you've got to put in the effort to study if you truly want to succeed. but, not all study methods will work for every single person. figure out how to study so you don't waste time with methods that don't work for you.

determine your learning style(s)

there are a few widely accepted learning styles. you've probably tried all of them throughout your time at school, so think back on which learning experiences have been most and least successful for you. then, connect them back to these learning styles to figure out ways you can most effectively study.

visual:  if you learn by seeing info visually, such as with maps, graphs, diagrams, charts, etc.

auditory: if you learn by getting info in auditory form, aka when it's heard or spoken

kinesthetic: aka hands-on, if you learn by doing & applying

reading/writing: if you learn info best when it’s in words, aka by writing it down or reading it

you might find that multiple of these learning styles are effective for you, maybe there's one that sticks out as the most similar to your style of learning, or maybe one that just doesn't work for you. now, you don't need to assign yourself one and forego the rest, but you can adjust the time you spend on various study methods based on how well they work for you.

for me, i've realized over time that i am NOT a reading learner. in high school i would diligently read all the textbook assignments, spending hours getting through the chapters, only to retain none of it & do poorly on assignments & tests.

on the other hand, i respond really well to kinesthetic learning - when applying concepts hands-on, such as with practice problems, i have a much better understanding of concepts & retention.

fast forward to college - i spend very little time on assigned readings. in fact, sometimes i skip them all together 🫢 b/c if i spend an hour reading the textbook but retain none of it, that's an hour wasted. especially if the content from the textbook is going to line up with the lecture, i'm much better off paying attention & taking good notes in class, and then spending my study time doing practice problems. if i really do need to read the textbook, i have to make it interactive for myself - i answer the questions at the end of the chapter, take notes, quiz myself, etc.

now, my advice here isn't to skip textbook readings!! that's not something i recommend b/c for so many people, it IS effective and helpful! when it comes to studying, play on your strengths. don't try to force yourself to learn in a way that doesn't work for your brain. make modifications & prioritize your learning! here is an awesome guide to different methods that work for the various learning styles.

find your ideal study environment

you can also maximize the effectiveness of your studying based on the environment you're in. if you can decide what factors help or hinder your studying abilities, it will help you decide where you should make your go-to study spot!

at home or in public? sometimes, studying in a public place can be unproductive. it might make you feel more stressed (like the sensation of having your teacher look over your shoulder during a test 🫣) or distracted. for me, studying in public is actually useful b/c i'm less likely to get disctracted. if i'm in my room i might get tempted to open up tumblr or pinterest, but in public i feel like ppl might see me get off topic which deters me LOL. however, studying at home is nice b/c you're in the comfort of your own personal space - you can change into pjs, cuddle your pet, grab a snack, etc. i do a mix of studying in public & at home b/c i feel like they both have their benefits

quiet or noisy? do you study better in a silent environment, or do you like some sound/ white noise? personally, i cannot deal with ANY noise when i'm trying to study, it totally breaks my focus 😭but some people like the ambient/ white noise of a coffee shop

music or silence? similar to the last one, does having music help you stay focused, or distract you? i know ppl will swear by different things - classical music, upbeat music, songs in different languages, etc. again, i personally cannot handle any sounds 😅 but if music keeps you alert, plan accordingly - have earbuds or go to a coffee shop that has a playlist going

nature or indoors? maybe you find it stuffy to be indoors all day & studying out in the open air helps you stay grounded and calm. on the flipside, being exposed to the elements might just make you more distracted. if you like studying outdoors, try public parks with benches, and also see if your campus has outdoor seating areas. some libraries do too. for a happy medium, you can study someplace with large windows/ nice view.

independent or collaborative? do you study better on your own or in groups? you can join a study group or go to office hours to get a sense of studying in a group setting vs. alone. group studying can help hold you accountable, make it more interactive, and keep you focused. that being said, i def prefer studying independently. i like to go at my own pace, and tbh i get easily distracted w/ others and will begin to just chit chat

based on how you answer those questions, you can decide what your ideal study environment is & pick a go-to place! for me, based on my preferences, my most effective study environment going to the library alone or studying in my room.

that's all for this post! i feel it got very long but i had so many tips to share. there's no "one size fits all" guide to navigating uni life. but i think everyone can benefit from prepping in advance & being mentally prepared. knowing your own strengths + having a plan of attack will guide you in stressful/ uncertain times!

overall, take the time to get to know yourself & figure out how you can be at your very best. apply whichever bits of advice resonate, and ignore anything that's not gonna serve you. this is YOUR journey!

and remember, even with all the planning in the world, things can go unexpectedly. you are more than equipped to deal with whatever life throws your way! when you are faced with unexpected things - pause & think, assess the situation, & determine your best course of action. above all, YOU'VE GOT THIS! 💗

#pink academia princess #it girl #becoming that girl #that girl #wonyoungism #pink academia #pink blog #girl blogger #studyblr #studyspo #study motivation #glow up #motivation #self care #self improvement #dream girl #academia barbie #girlblogging #pink pilates girl #clean girl #self love #pink pilates princess #pink aesthetic #study blog #study aesthetic #university #student life #study tips #study tumblr #study techniques

[overtrred28]

Stargirl | matildas x original character fic [part four]

Words; 3.2k

Pairings; matildas team x astrid taylor (OC)

Warnings; swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N; took me a while to do this one so sorry its a bit late. hopefully you enjoy this, I really like this one. again, please give it some love and hope you like it. also this might have a love interest at some point but i haven't figured it out yet. x

masterlist

The team had now travelled down to Canberra for their second and final match against New Zealand again. Throughout the day they had taken their match day walk, eaten their meals together and prepared for the game, feeling somewhat confident after their last win over the opposing team. 

Astrid was still on a buzz from the last game and the love she had been showered in from her teammates, coaches, parents and especially the fans. Making her debut and scoring a goal in the same game on home soil was something really special and Astrid never thought that she would be doing it so young. She was still only 17 and had accomplished so much. 

She was in a really good mood and the team could tell. She usually had a fun, bubbly personality, constantly making jokes and pulling lighthearted pranks but today she just had an extra aura about her that instantly lightened the mood of everyone on the team. And they knew why. Not only had she been promised some minutes on the pitch this game, but tomorrow was her 18th birthday. Finally, the baby of the team was becoming an adult; legally at least. And she got to celebrate with her new family; her own unable to until she planned to go home for a little while, now that club season was over and the next camp wasn’t until late June.

The rest of the day was spent in focus mode, making sure everyone was warm and ready for what could be another tough game. 

The Matildas were off to a great start, taking possession of the ball and a good few attempts at scoring within the first 14 minutes before a corner from Steph and header from Sam secured their lead on the game. Only two minutes later and a great shot from the edge of the penalty box by Hayley, the ball just skimming past the goalie, had given them that extra leg up on New Zealand. 

A shot from Sam had brought them up to 3-0 before New Zealand secured their first goal in the extra time before the whistle blew for halftime and the substitutes got themselves up to warm up in the break. 

Astrid, Charli and Kyra found themselves chatting about Astrid’s upcoming birthday while practising passes and shots at the goal. 

“Guys it’s not that big of a deal.” Astrid spoke, taking a shot at the net with her right foot, surpassing Teagan’s attempt to block it, sending it right in the back, a small smile at Teagan before turning to the girls with confused expressions on their faces. 

“Not a big deal?” Charli used air quotes, stopping her small passes with Kyra. “First of all it’s your first birthday with the team,” She began counting her fingers as she walked closer to Astrid. “It’s tomorrow,” She counted a second finger.  “AND it’s your 18th. What is wrong with you?” Charli was clearly more passionate about this than Astrid, gripping the younger girl’s shoulder, trying to look stern but failing, letting out that signature smile. 

“I’m with Charli.” Kyra had stepped forward to the pair. Astrid bit her top lip, staying silent, contemplating Charli’s reason. 

“Ugh fine. I guess we could do something,” Astrid finally gave in. “But!” She lifted a finger, Charli and Kyra grinning slightly. “Nothing crazy okay, everyone is about to go back to clubs so they probably want to relax.” Astrid spoke, grunting softly as they engulfed her in a hug after sharing a sneaky smirk with one another. 

The second half of the game had finally started, and even with a few misses at a shot, the Matildas were still doing well. Substitutions had been made for both sides, all the Aus subs continuing to keep warm and moving on the sidelines. It was at the 70th minute that Alanna went down from a head collision, resulting in a broken nose and having to leave the pitch. That led to Charli being subbed on a few minutes later as a defender, happiness from Astrid growing for Charli and worry growing for Alanna as she was taken to the changeroom. 

Again with only 15 minutes until full time, Astrid got to take her place on the pitch, subbing for Caitlin in the left forward position, the coaches hoping her fresh legs might help gain them another goal before the end of the game. And they were right. 

The ball was shot far from Lydia, sending it to the midfield where Sam had collected it, heading for the goal but ran out of space, shooting it over to Astrid who shot it through the goalie’s still legs as she expected a higher shot, and slotted it right in the back of the net. The crowd roared, Astrid ran directly to the midfield where most of the team watched the shot, immediately covering the young girl with their bodies, screaming and yelling at her goal that brought them to 4-1. 

The huddle of players parted, Charli making sure to press a kiss to Astrid’s forehead before they both ran off to their positions again with wide smiles. The final whistle blew and Australia had won against New Zealand again, Astrid fighting the urge to run and celebrate with her friends, instead calmly shaking hands with the opposition and sharing clap hugs with her teammates. 

The team all get to their huddle after a few minutes, happiness running high through them about the successful win, waiting for Tony to begin his speech. 

“You’ve been phenomenal in terms of focus and what you can control. Two good games, two wins. This is the closure of the camp now, so that you can enjoy the time with your families tonight, happy birthday to Astrid for tomorrow. Safe travels. Good luck in your club, okay? Looking forward to see you next camp. Good job, everyone.” He wrapped and everyone disconnected to start clapping. 

Family and friends were invited down onto the pitch, Harper being snatched up by Mini the second she saw her and Astrid slowly moving to approach the mother and daughter. 

“Hi Harper.” Astrid waved at the baby in Mini’s arms. 

“Say hi.” Katrina picked up one of Harper’s arms, waving at the player as a smile grew on the baby’s face. “Good job again today Astrid, nice shot.” Mini looked up at the teen. 

“Thanks Mini. Welcome back officially.” Astrid met the older woman's eyes and smiled. They both turned in the direction of both teams gathering on the pitch around Aivi, all of them moving closer to the huddle, Astrid going to stand with Kyra and Charli like always. 

Aivi was shaving her head today in honour of her brother and donating it in a bid to raise $30,000 for brain tumour research. Everyone cheered on as they watched the brave woman, all running over when it was done, patting and rubbing her bare head as tears sprung in everyone's eyes. 

The next morning Astrid had awoken in her and Charli’s hotel room to most of the team, balloons filling the air, and all the girls screaming happy birthday as soon as her eyes had opened. Her heart pounded against her chest at the fright of seeing at least 20 more people in her room at 9am, screaming in her face.

After letting out a quiet ‘fuck’, Astrid’s next reaction was to crawl back under the sheets feeling surprised, shocked and extremely loved in that very moment that the first thing she thought to do was to hide from it. The room filled with laughter and cheers, watching as Kyra and Charli pulled back the sheets and wrapped their arms around Astrid who was about to cry. 

“Aye, she’s finally an adult like the rest of us. Took long enough.” Macca yelled from in the room, everyone laughing along with her, Astrid just looked her dead in the eye. 

“Does that mean you’ll stop calling me kid?” She cocked her head at the goalkeeper. 

“No.” Mackenzie spoke with a dead face.

“Absolutely not.” Alanna chimed in and everyone shook their heads. Everyone gives Astrid a hug and wishes her another happy birthday before leaving, now just Kyra as the only person out of their assigned room. Kyra and Charli approached Astrid on her bed with presents in each of their hands. 

“Guys, no. You seriously did not need to do all of this.” Astrid could burst into tears with the amount of love she was receiving from her friends. 

“Of course we did.” Kyra came to sit beside Astrid, holding a small bag. 

“You’re part of the team, our best friend and as I said yesterday,” Charli paused, trying to emphasise her next point. “It’s your fucking 18th birthday.” Charli smiled and then sat down on the other side of Astrid, placing a box in front of her. 

“I love you guys so much.” Astrid pulled the girls in with an arm over each of their shoulders, turning to place a kiss on their cheeks. 

“Love you too, now open them please.” Charli was bursting with excitement to watch her open the gifts. 

“This one is just from us.” Kyra handing the small bag over to Astrid. 

“Thank you.” Astrid smiled, taking the small bag from Kyra’s hand. A little white box was inside, pulling it out to open it. “Oh my god.” Astrid gasped at the ring that was inside the box. It was a simple silver ring, an oval plate in the middle that was engraved with a small soccer ball. 

“Do you like it?” Kyra shyly spoke after watching Astrid inspect the ring closer. 

“I love it.” Astrid spoke, tears forming in her eyes. 

“Good, because now we all match.” Charli smiled, herself and Kyra bringing up their hands to show the same ring on their own fingers. Astrid pouted before the tears of joy ran down her face. She had never felt more loved by two friends. “Oh, star.” Charli used the nickname she had given Astrid in their first camp. 

Upon deciding that she couldn’t shorten her full name, Charli began to call her ‘star’ or ‘stargirl’ because her name sounded like something to do with the stars; later the rest of the team adopted it on and off the field. Astrid really liked it and anything was better than Macca teasing her and calling her ‘Asteroid’ or ‘As-turd’; although Astrid did think it was quite funny. 

The girls brought the crying girl in their arms again, laughing at her reaction and glad she enjoyed their gift. 

“Okay, enough crying. Open the next one.” Kyra spoke, Astrid wiping her face and letting out a small laugh. 

“This is a bit of something from everyone.” Charli moved the box closer to the birthday girl. 

Astrid opened the box to reveal a bunch of little goodies; a few cards, little bottles of alcohol, some Taylor Swift nic-nacs and other small presents. Astrid examined every one of them, reading every card and letter as the other girls got up to give her some personal space. They also collected some birthday hats they bought, along with a ‘18th birthday’ sash for her to wear. 

“This is way too much, thank you.” Astrid jumped up, running to give them a hug again. 

“Of course not, you deserve it.” Charli pressed a kiss to Astrids head. “But enough of this, we’re going to be late for breakfast if we don’t hurry up.” They all looked at the time and realised they had to be down in 10 minutes. 

To Astrid’s surprise, the rest of the day was spent with the team as she thought most of them would be leaving today to go back to club. But when Kyra and Charli notified them of the important birthday a few months back, they all decided to stick around an extra day and celebrate their youngest member. She was showered with love throughout their team breakfast, when they went for a picnic lunch and then at a nice dinner where a cake was being brought out. 

“Happy Birthday to Astrid, happy birthday to you.” The table cheered, taking photos and videos of Astrid and her cake, a wide smile on her face. 

“HIP HIP!” Charli led the entire restaurant who had joined in. 

“HOORAY!”

“HIP HIP!” 

“HOORAY!”

“HIP HIP!” 

“HOORAY!” Everyone clapped as Astrid leant forward to blow out the candles, silently making her wish that she could be with this group of people forever. 

“Okay, now you have to skull your drink.” Sam who was sat across from Astrid pushed the girl’s almost full cocktail towards her. Her mouth opened in confusion. “It’s tradition, kid. It’s what you do at your 18th.” Sam simply shrugged her shoulders, Astrid looking to her other teammates who were nodding with grins, some holding their phones out to film her. 

So she picked up her drink and began drinking it fast, trying not to spill any on her new dress. Everyone cheered and clapped until she was done and she wiped her mouth, showing off her empty drink. 

A lot of the team members had left after dinner, opting to for an early sleep before their international flights, rather than taking Astrid clubbing for the first time. Those who remained with Astrid included, Kyra, Charli, Cortnee, Courtney, Clare Wheeler, Teagan, Ellie with Caitlin and Steph acting as chaperones for the youngsters. 

Flash forward to 2am and the last remaining partiers stumbled into the hotel lobby by the guide of Steph and Caitlin. Charli and Cortnee held Astrid up with either of her arms, Courtney and Kyra following behind, Steph and Caitlin just watched all of them drunkenly walk to the lifts, trying not to laugh. They all eventually made it to their rooms, Steph instructing Charli to call her in case something happened with Astrid who was drunker than her. 

Charli guided the girl who was almost passed out into their room and sat her down on her bed. 

“Star, hey.” Charli stopped Astrid from falling asleep. “You’ll be mad at me tomorrow if we don’t get this makeup off and out of this dress. So just stay awake for a few more minutes. Okay?” Astrid nodded silently, using Charli’s outstretched arms to pull herself up and walk to the bathroom. 

With makeup removed, teeth brushed and now both in pyjamas, Charli led the drunk girl back to her bed and helped her under the covers. As soon as Astrid’s head hit the pillow, she was out cold. Charli snapped a quick photo before falling asleep in her own bed.

Safe to say it was a good night out when Astrid woke up with a pounding headache, the natural sunlight pouring into the room harsh on her eyes, quickly pushing her face back into her pillow with a grunt. 

“Oh welcome back from the dead.” Charli laughed as she walked out of the bathroom, Astrid lifting her head slowly to give the girl a death stare. “How do you feel, party girl?” Charli sat at Astrid’s feet, watching the girl slowly sit up, hands rubbing her face. 

“Fucking shit.” She laughed as she met Charli’s face. “I went hard didn’t I?” Astrid rubbed her temples, attempting to ease the pounding in her head but it wasn’t working. 

“Oh yeah. You did. Come on.” Charli laughed, hitting Astrid's feet as she stood herself up. “Let’s go soak up all that alcohol with food, coffee and water.” Astrid groaned but slowly got out of bed. After a shower and some fresh clothes, Charli and Astrid had made their way to the team breakfast room again where most of the team still sat, Astrid may have walked in with a pair of sunnies over her eyes. 

“She made it through the night everyone!” Mackenzie threw an arm over Astrid’s shoulder as she rolled her eyes at the goalkeeper. She nudged her away and flipped her the bird with a smile before walking over to the coffee station. 

“Fun night then?” Hayley asked as Astrid sat down next to her with an iced coffee and some buttered toast. 

“Yeah… I think. I don’t remember a lot actually…” She took her sunnies off and rubbed her eyes. “I better ask the babysitters.” She directed her head over to where Steph and Caitlin sat. 

“First night drinking and you got black out. Nice.” Sam reached across the table for a fist bump which Astrid loosely returned, shaking her head slowly, which ended up bringing back the headache that was fading into the background. 

Everyone finished their breakfast slowly, taking in these last moments of camp together because not all of them would be together for quite a while. A lot of the senior players were going into an off season soon after returning to their international homes and taking a break for the first time in a while. 

Everyone caught a flight together back to Sydney from Canberra before separating for their international and domestic flights, saying goodbye to each other in the departure terminals. 

Kyra, Courtney and Charli were the last people Astrid had to say goodbye to, the three of them heading back to Sweden and Astrid sticking behind in Sydney. 

“I’m going to miss you guys so much.” She brought them all in for a group hug quickly. 

“It’s okay, we’ll be back together for the next camp soon.” Charli hugged Astrid singularly, squeezing her close to her one last time. 

“Where hopefully we all get some more playing time.” Courtney smiled at the youngest girl. 

“And we can have even more drunken nights with miss party animal over here.” Kyra teased, Astrid pushed her shoulder lightly, shaking her head. 

“Alright, you guys better go before you miss your flight.” Astrid nodded at them to go, putting a small smile on her face that hid the fact she was quite sad she wasn’t going with them. One day, hopefully. “Have a safe flight. Love you.” Astrid called out as they walked away. 

“Love you stargirl. I’ll text when we land.” Charli yells back before they are out of view. 

“Ready to go?” Cortnee came up behind Astrid, she had been patiently waiting for her to say her goodbyes after her own with other teammates. 

“Yeah, sorry for making you wait.” Astrid apologised as they wheeled their luggage out of the doors and began making their way to Cortnee’s car they left parked before camp. 

“No, it’s all good. I get it.” Cortnee smiled over at Astrid. They made their way back to Astrid’s apartment where Cortnee dropped her off. They said their own goodbyes, Astrid promising to text her later as she made her way inside. 

Her place was small, one bed, one bath, a kitchen and a living room, but she didn’t need much more for just herself. She was leaving again to go back home tomorrow, seeing her extended family for the first time since Christmas to celebrate her birthday with them. That meant she had the next 16 hours to unpack, repack, sleep and get on the road to Bateau Bay.

She also had to think about the next club season and what that looked like for her. Her short contract with Sydney FC was officially over and her agent hadn’t contacted her just yet about whether that was going to continue or if other clubs were looking at her for the 2022/2023 season. Hopefully she would know soon and her future would be clearer than it is now.

to be continued...

#auswnt #auswnt x reader #matildas #matildas x reader #kyra cooney cross #alanna kennedy #caitlin foord #charli grant #mackenzie arnold #sam kerr #steph catley

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober '23 | Masterlist

Hi! Welcome to the Masterlist of my participation in Flufftober 2023, hosted by @flufftober! 🖤

On this Masterlist you'll find the prompts I've filled along the way, which will combine angst, fluff, and smut. Each one shot will have their own appropriate warnings when necessary. All stories will be 'x Fem!Reader' unless specified otherwise.

If you want to check out all my other works, you can find them on my Main Masterlist. For now I hope you will have fun with all the fanfics I'm creating during my first time participating in Flufftober! 🧡

I chose not to work with a tag list. If you want to be updated when I post new fanfics, you can follow @nicoline1998enilocin-library 🖤

Divider made by @cafekitsune | Header & 18+ banner made by yours truly

I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 because I could not have finished this challenge without your amazing help! From providing the most amazing and drool-worthy GIFs to coming up with the sweetest ideas and the best titles, you have helped me more than I can ever show you. I love you so much, and again, I can not thank you enough for all the work you did for my Flufftober Challenge! ❤️

🥀 = Angst | 🧡 = Fluff | 🔥 = Smut

Day 1 | It'll be okay | 🥀 🧡 | Chris Evans Prompt: ''I've got you'' After nearly a decade of being together, you're going through an intense breakup, so you're at a loss about what to do with yourself. Luckily for you, your best friend Chris knows exactly what to do to make you feel better, and you're very thankful to have him in your life.

Day 2 | I do! Again! | 🧡 🔥 | Robert Downey Jr. Prompt: Family, friends, loved ones Your 10th wedding anniversary with Robert is coming up, and he is planning a special vacation for you and your little family, though it'll have a twist you will know about once you arrive. He ensures every last detail is perfect, and it will become a vacation you'll never forget.

Day 3 | Together, forever | 🥀 🧡 🔥 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: ''Wait, you love me?'' - ''I've always loved you'' You and Tony have been head over heels in love with one another for as long as you can remember. It isn't until someone is injured and nearly loses their life that your feelings come out, and both of you wish you would have shared your feelings sooner, especially after seeing how fragile human life is.

Day 4 | Perfect coincidence | 🧡 | Bucky Barnes Prompt: Have your characters share the last table at a café You find yourself in a rainstorm and seek refuge in a warm-looking coffee shop. When there's only one table left, you share it with a handsome stranger who introduces himself as Bucky Barnes and his fluffy white cat, Alpine. What started as one of the worst days quickly became one of the best.

Day 7 | Swinging together | 🧡 | Tony Stark Prompt: Porch swing You have always dreamt of having a porch swing on your porch, and now that you and Tony are moving into your new house, this is the perfect opportunity. He will do anything to build it before your baby boy arrives and complete your little family.

Day 8 | Dancing in the rain | 🧡 | Loki Laufeyson Prompt: Rainy day Both you and Loki decide to make the best of a rainy day. He starts the day with breakfast in bed, and you decide to bake him a pumpkin pie in the afternoon. When you suddenly want to dance in the rain with him, something shifts between you, and you can't keep your hands off one another.

Day 10 |Mile High Club | 🧡 🔥 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: Love of my life You and Tony have been in a secret relationship for the past seven months, and you're being sent on the first mission for just the two of you since you've become an Avenger. Seeing how the two of you will have nothing but time during the long flight to the other side of the world, he wants nothing more than to make you a part of the Mile High Club.

Day 11 | Chocolate lovers | 🥀 🧡 🔥 | Young!Tony Stark Prompt: Sweet tooth + Hot chocolate Your daughter, Orion, has been wanting hot chocolate as a treat for a while now, and you and Tony are finally giving her just that. Though Tony's sweet tooth craves something much sweeter, he can't help but make it even more delicious by adding some sweet chocolate syrup.

Day 12 | Spin The Bottle | 🧡 🔥 | Robert Downey Jr. Prompt: ''Oh no, you're a morning person!'' Robert has been your best friend for a few years, and the sexual tension between both of you has only grown stronger. When, after an innocent game of Spin The Bottle, the small, flickering fire officially bursts out into a sea of flames, you experience the most satisfying, gentle, and perfect first time together you could have wished for.

Day 14 | My favorite piece of art | 🧡 | Bucky Barnes Prompt: ''I hate it'' - ''No you don't'' You've been trying to get Bucky to model for you for the longest time. When he finally agrees, you decide to go all out and make a beautiful painting of him to highlight everything you love about him. When he sees the end result, he can't help but joke about it, but deep inside, he's very moved and touched that you did this for him.

Day 16 | Lullaby | 🧡 | Andy Barber Prompt: Singing one another to sleep After a long, stressful day at work, there's nothing you enjoy more than sitting next to your husband, Andy, when he's playing the piano and singing to you. These moments work like a charm to get you to fall asleep, and you two lovingly call them your own lullaby.

Day 17 | A new start | 🧡 | Ari Levinson Prompt: Encouraging s.o. to reach a goal You've always dreamt of turning your career around, starting in a new field. When you mention this idea to your husband, Ari, he is very supportive in the best way he knows how to be.

Day 19 | We'll always protect you | 🥀 🧡 | Steve Rogers Prompt: Keeping someone safe Steve's dream has always been to become a Dad, and suddenly, that opportunity seems closer than he could ever have envisioned. When a little girl is abandoned in front of the Avengers Compound, he can't help but take an immediate liking to her, and he feels the urge to keep her safe no matter what.

Day 20 | Spooky celebration | 🧡 | Sebastian Stan Prompt: Pumpkin You moved to the U.S. not too long ago, and this year will be your first Halloween celebration there. When your friend Sebastian finds out you’ve never celebrated it, he's taking out all the stops to make your first Halloween a spooky celebration to never forget.

Day 22 | Apple picking | 🧡 | Young!Tony Stark Prompt: Picking You've grown up with the tradition of going apple picking each fall, and now that you and Tony have your own little family, you want to keep this tradition going. As you, Tony, Orion, and Hudson go to a local apple farm during an apple-picking event, you're soaking up every second and enjoying every moment.

Day 23 | A beautiful collection | 🧡 🔥 | Ari Levinson Prompt: Trinket Whenever you and Ari visit a new place together during a vacation, you two search for the silliest magnets to add to your ever-growing collection. Usually, you're the one who brings them home, but this time, Ari has found a rather special one that you want to keep forever.

Day 25 | Reading nook | 🧡 | Steve Rogers Prompt: Nook You recently moved into a new house that'll accommodate you and your growing family, but your one wish in the new house has yet to come true. You've wanted a reading nook for a long time, and when you're away on business, Steve decided to surprise you by making the reading nook of your dreams.

Day 26 | Love by the fire | 🧡 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: Fireplace Tony has taken you for a weekend away to a small cabin in the woods where it'll just be the two of you, and no one around for miles to interrupt. The weather outside is cold, but the atmosphere inside the cabin is almost reaching it's boiling point as you two can't keep your hands off each other.

Day 29 | I'll always be by your side | 🥀 🧡 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: ''Hey! Wake up!'' What was supposed to be a comfortable, easy Sunday turned into one of the worst as you're caught off guard by your period and in horrible pain. Luckily, your boyfriend, Tony, is by your side to make you feel better and spoil you absolutely rotten.

Day 31 | Spiked candy | 🧡 | Iron Man!Tony Stark Prompt: Dreams do come true You've had a crush on Tony for as long as you can remember, but you didn't know he also has one on you. During his annual Halloween party, he makes a move using a project he's been working on for a long time, and they have precisely the desired effect because you couldn't be happier the morning after. Your dream of being his might finally come true after all.

#flufftober #flufftober 2023 #masterlist

[kwanisms]

Under Your Skin 02 — s.changbin

taglist | playlist

summary: Everything seemed to fall into place for Y/N. She had a loving boyfriend, her dream job, and the bestest friend in the universe. She never thought her life was missing something until she was introduced to Changbin, the town's newest tattoo artist who happens to be harboring an unimaginable secret.

pairing: tattoo artist!Changbin × fem!Reader

genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn; “forbidden” love, strangers to lovers, supernatural themes; tattoo artist!au, werewolf!au; tattoo artist!Changbin, werewolf!Changbin, established boyfriend!Joshua

warnings: adult dialogue, tobacco use, female reader, mild religious themes as part of the story takes place in a church, sexual content (18+ mdni), smut warnings under the cut!

taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @x-woozi @candidupped @snow-pegasus @brownieracha @hobi-is-golden @avyskai @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @biribarabiribbaem @mchslut @spicxbnny @hgema @likeaboss-duh @oiminho @slut-for-dabi @ughyeka @honey-lemon-goose @skidsflowers @fixation-dump @meadowyin @sleeplessdawn @bristidutta @changbinnss @racha-enthusiast @phobia0922 @sanjoongie @chillllllli @nattisbored @kimseungminsprincess @chrollosforehead @typicalcuriosities @tai-loves-skz @labyrinthonmymind @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @mariesakamari @mamieishere @buttergumz @nxiim9 @emithecharmer @binnies-donuts @v3n0mszn @kazzilla @alexvessey @jihanlovic @thezombiepandaleague @moonl1ghtmuse @blue3ss5

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a/n: finally, here's part 2 of Under Your Skin! We are still going strong with the long chapters lol I know the pairing for this series overall is Changbin and he is end game I promise but Y/N is in a serious and committed relationship with Joshua so there will be some action there lol

A huge thank you to my wife, Sky ☁️, for this entire story idea. Without her late night thoughts, as well as her constant hype and support this series wouldn’t even exist.

Also a massive thank you to @icybluehosh for her professional input on all things tattoos. You are a saint, my love and I thank you so much!

To everyone else, thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and line breaks made by me. Content and support banners made by me with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: dom!Joshua, brat!Reader, rough sex, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, and brat. Don’t question it. He calls her brat as a term of endearment when she’s being a brat), slight dirty talk, counter top sex , suggestive and implied sexual encounter in a church!!! and I think that's all. Of course, pls let me know if I missed anything!

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𝗰𝗵 𝟬𝟮 - 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗶

wc: 15k

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It had been a few days since the incident at the club and you hadn’t heard from Joshua since that night. He’d texted you once to make sure you had indeed made it home safely. After that it was radio silence.

You weren’t as upset about it as you thought you’d be. You chalked it up to needing some space from one another after that fight.

Instead, you focused your time on work.

A new shipment of antiques had been brought in from your boss’ most recent trip abroad to collect items to resell. The shop was your home away from home. You spent most of your time here as it was your job.

You remembered seeing the shop when you were younger and coming in with your mother. You spent the short time you were in the shop wandering the shelves and looking at all the neat tea sets and other antiques that had been cleaned and restored with care.

When you turned 19, you expressed a desire to work and your parents supported it, saying it would help build character. Your father offered to give you a secretarial position at his company but you had something else in mind.

Your parents were confused about your desire to work at Serizawa’s but when they visited the shop again on the day you went in to apply, they couldn’t imagine you working anywhere else.

Your boss, a man named Isei Serizawa, was a kind elderly man in his late 60’s. His wife, Shinju, was a small woman, also in her 60’s, and spent her life as a stay at home mom, taking care of their two children. 

The couple started the shop back when they first got married. 

Back then it was in a small storefront in Shingu, near Fukuoka, Japan. They spent their life running the shop and living in the small town near the ocean. They had two children who went off to become extremely successful in both Tokyo and Osaka. 

After their children started their own families, the couple moved to Korea and settled in Sejong, bringing their shop with them. 

When you first started working at the shop, you mainly worked setting up the items to be sold and sweeping, manning the front of the shop. Eventually, you started to learn about the work Shinju did and asked her to teach you.

She found it nice to have someone interested in her work, restoring old tea sets and mending broken ones. She taught you everything she knew and as her arthritis started to get worse, she left the restoration work to you.

Mr. Serizawa restored furniture and old electronics, leaving the ceramics to you now that Shinju stayed at home, keeping her arthritis at bay with cross stitch and knitting.

Some time after you started working at the shop, the Serizawas’ grandson, Daniel, came to live with them, moving into their spare bedroom. 

You didn’t know the particulars of why he left Tokyo but your boss did tell you he wasn’t doing well. He was acting out and mixed in with the wrong crowd. 

When you first met Daniel, he seemed troubled and at first he was cold and initially it seemed like he didn’t like you being at the shop or the way the Serizawas treated you like family. Eventually he warmed up to you and came to see you almost like an older cousin.

He also began opening up to you once he started working in the shop when he wasn’t in school.

His grades, which had apparently been dismal at his school in Tokyo, were thriving out here in Sejong. He loved the small town atmosphere and the feeling of community that came with it.

He started doing so well, in both school and his personal life that the Serizawas let him move into the apartment above the shop so long as he kept his grades up and stayed out of trouble.

Since it was summer time and he’d kept his promises to keep his grades up and stay out of trouble, the Serizawas let him go on a school summer trip to Busan to visit the ocean and the island of Jeju. Daniel kept his grandparents in the loop, sending them pictures and letters as well as postcards of his trip.

The Serizawas and even you were happy to see him thriving and having the time of his life with his friends and classmates. He was due to return soon as summer was ending and school would be starting back up.

The ring of the bell brought you out of your hyperfocus and you quickly set the cup you were holding down, wiping your hands on your apron as you called out. “Be right there!

“This is a lot of stuff,” Jeongguk murmured as he followed Changbin into the shop. 

They’d driven past what felt like a dozen furniture shops in town until Changbin mentioned seeing this place and Jeongguk begrudgingly drove along the main street until they found the correct side street.

The shop wasn’t huge nor was it loud or ostentatious. It was a small brick building, nestled between a café and an ice cream parlor with a small alleyway leading between the coffee shop and the antique shop.

The sign was made from black wood, coated in a lacquer that made it shine with gold lettering that read the name ‘Serizawa’s.’ The windows on the front of the shop were large and rectangular, stopping about waist level with a row of planters full of neatly trimmed hedges and pruned flowering bushes.

The front door was the same black lacquered wood with a golden knob. 

Inside the shop was what Changbin could only describe as organized chaos. 

Jeongguk was right, there were a lot of items but they were organized neatly. There were five shelving units, each labeled clearly with all manner of antique items ranging from old typewriters and phones to toys of all kinds.

A series of floating shelves near the door were loaded with various tea sets from different backgrounds and each with distinct patterns. 

Jeongguk was immediately drawn to the porcelain, inspecting them as Changbin looked further around. On the back wall were various pieces of furniture, some on special wall mounted hangers to allow more space to peruse the shop.

A small tile section of flooring was between the entry way and the shelves where some pieces of furniture were displayed, almost like one would stage in a home or apartment. 

Next to the door was a long counter, behind which had lots of small porcelain trinkets and other knick knacks.

Across from the main door was a doorway with a thick and no doubt heavy green curtain. 

Changbin heard a voice call out to them when they first entered and a moment later, footsteps started shuffling from behind the curtain before the material was pulled back and Changbin’s eyes widened as a woman stepped out.

He’d only managed to get a good look at her a few times the other night but he was certain it was indeed Lilah’s friend, the same he’d intervened for when her boyfriend tried to forcibly remove her from the club.

Changbin watched as she stepped forward and recognition passed over her, well your, face. 

“Hey,” you said with a smile as you walked forward to meet them. “Hey,” Changbin said with a small smile. He wasn’t sure if you’d remember him.

“Nice to see you again,” you added as Jeongguk returned to Changbin’s side. ‘Well, she definitely remembers,’ he thought, a little bemused. 

“Yeah, I had no idea you worked here,” Changbin added as Jeongguk looked between the two of you.

A silence fell over the three of you before you finally spoke. 

“So, how can I help you guys?” You asked, looking between them. Changbin was so focused on your face as you spoke that he’d completely missed your question.

Jeongguk discreetly elbowed him, making him sputter before answering.

“Oh, right. I’m, uh, actually looking for some furniture,” he said softly. Jeongguk rolled his eyes and turned away to inspect the shelves some more. ‘Him and those damn tea sets.’

“What kind of furniture?” You asked, tilting your head to the side, reminding Changbin of one of Jeongguk’s puppies. It was cute. You were cute. 'This is neither the time nor the place,' Changbin mentally scolded himself to stop letting his mind wander.

‘Focus, you idiot!’

“Oh, just some accent pieces. Something vintage. Preferably black or red,” he answered, trying to sound casual.

You nodded a couple times, taking in his words before turning to the rest of the shop. “Actually, I think I've got a few pieces like that,” you replied. 

“I could show you if you’d like?” 

Changbin nodded and you smiled, beckoning him to follow as you moved towards the back of the shop.

He followed while Jeongguk stayed behind to continue to look at the tea sets.

“How many pieces are you wanting?” You asked as you led him to the back wall. “Just a couple. Maybe three at most. I’m really trying to find some chairs for the lobby of my shop,” Changbin answered as you both walked towards the back.

“What kind of shop?” You asked, sounding interested. 

“It’s a tattoo shop,” Changbin answered, expecting you to lose interest immediately.

“Oh, the one that just popped up on Market Street?”

Changbin was taken aback that not only were you interested in the shop but that you knew where it even was. He nodded wordlessly, wondering what other kinds of surprises you had.

“Lilah has been talking nonstop about it ever since the last shop closed. I’d never been to that one,” you added as the two of you neared the back of the shop. “The last shop seemed to be a favorite among the locals, what was it called?”

Changbin watched as you stopped, amused as you wracked your brain.

“Ink Moon Studios!” You said suddenly, as if having an ‘aha’ moment. Changbin’s smile widened as you turned to him. “I really liked the name of that shop. What’s yours called? I didn’t see any signs when I last went by.”

Changbin suddenly felt very self conscious. “Uh, White Lotus Studio,” he answered softly. “I like that,” you said, smiling warmly. 

“Maybe I’ll have to come by with Lilah some time.”

Changbin bit back the urge to smile. If you wanted to come by his shop, he wasn’t going to complain. Not one bit.

“So,” you said, stopping to point out a couple different pieces. 

“We have these,” you continued, showing him a couple of red velvet chairs. The wood was a dark reddish brown. “But I also have these,” you added, pointing out a chair and ottoman set.

Both pieces were black upholstery with white painted wood. “This is probably a long shot,” Changbin started. “But do you have anything with black and gold?” 

A smile spread across your face and you waved at him to follow you, leading him back towards the front of the shop.

Back at the staged area, you showed him two of the chairs. 

They were high wingback arm chairs with black velvet upholstery and gold painted wood with carved details. They were exactly what he was looking for and he mentally kicked himself for not noticing them as soon as he came in.

You were excited, showing them off as you explained the work that went into restoring them. 

“My boss just finished these last week. I was really excited when he showed me his plans for them.”

You pointed out the wood trim. “These details are all hand carved. They’re Rococo inspired pieces but obviously they aren’t that old,” you explained. “The gold paint is coated in a layer of epoxy which gives it the shine. The epoxy won’t wear down so obviously the paint won’t chip. The velvet is real and will have to be cleaned by hand with some velvet cleaner and a microfiber cloth.”

Changbin nodded as you spoke, kneeling down to look at the pieces and looking over them, inspecting the wood and looking at the supports under the cushion. “No offense to your boss, but how often do customers complain or return items?”

You smiled warmly again. “No offense taken. I think the only time we’ve had something returned it was a mirror. The frame got damaged when they were carrying it out to their car and Mr. Serizawa offered to fix it right away,” you explained.

“He’s been doing this his entire life and for him, it’s not about the money. It’s about bringing new life into these old pieces and making sure people love them as much as he does.” 

Changbin glanced up at you from where he was kneeling in front of the chair. “Impressive customer service,” Changbin noted with a smile.

You smiled again. 

“My boss strips all pieces down to the base before reinforcing any cracks or weaknesses in wood. He uses high quality foam and upholstery when refurbishing each piece,” you added.

Changbin stood up and walked around one of the chairs, continuing to inspect it.

“And he does all of this in the shop?” Changbin asked as he stopped to look up at you. Nodding in response you continued to speak. “He has a workshop in the back where he does all his restoration work,” you answered. 

“Like I said, he’s been doing this his whole life. He’s had this shop in Sejong since I was a little girl. Before that he lived near Fukuoka and had a shop there.”

Changbin looked up at you again as you spoke. His eyes trailed over your face, taking in your features before looking back down at the chair. He didn’t want to get caught essentially checking you out, though he really wanted to.

He needed to be professional. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable in any way.

Changbin nodded a couple times before clicking his tongue and looking back up at you with a smirk.

“I’ll take them.”

Changbin was immediately entranced by the smile that spread across your face. It was different from the warm and polite smiles you’d given him before. This was a genuine smile. The first he’d seen from you since meeting you the other night.

He’d thought you were pretty before, seeing you at the club under all the neon lights and then again today in the natural lighting that filtered into the shop but the moment this smile graced your face, it nearly took his breath away.

He was convinced he’d never seen someone so stunning.

“Perfect, I’ll go grab the paperwork,” you replied, drawing him out of his thoughts before excusing yourself to disappear behind the curtain.

Changbin watched as you disappeared behind the green material before Jeongguk hissed at him from across the shop. He turned to look at his friend who had been looking at the tea sets the whole time.

“These are so fucking expensive,” he hissed. “Who the fuck would buy something so outrageously priced!?” Changbin’s smile fell and he glared at his friend from across the store. “Knock it off!” Changbin hissed.

Jeongguk looked back at the tea set. “Who would spend almost a million won on this?” Changbin sighed, glaring at his friend. “Stop it! She might hear you!”

Jeongguk shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not my fault they’re priced so high.”

Changbin was staring daggers at Jeongguk when the curtain opened and you returned, carrying some papers, a polite smile on your face. Changbin wondered if you’d heard them bickering. If you had, your face didn’t let it show.

“These are a formality,” you explained as you handed over the small stack of papers. “Basically just going over what was done to refurbish the items and how we recommend you take care of them.”

You smiled at him as Changbin flipped through the pages quickly. He glanced up as you were looking at the price tag of the chairs and writing on a small pad of paper, filling in the boxes and adding the sales tax.

You finished and gestured for Changbin to follow you to the counter near the door so you could properly ring him up.

Jeongguk was still looking at the tea sets as Changbin pulled out his wallet and waited for you to do your thing, tapping away at the register screen.

“Okay, the total comes to five-hundred and fifty thousand won,” you said with a smile. “How much?” Jeongguk asked, whipping his head around. “That’s for both chairs and I gave you a discount since you’re buying both of them,” you explained.

Ignoring Jeongguk’s glare, Changbin opened his wallet, pulled out his card and waited for you to input his total before turning the screen around for him to pay.

The transaction only took a few moments but it was long enough for Jeongguk to interrupt the silence, yet again.

“Can I ask you something?”

‘Oh god, here we go.’

You glanced up as Changbin signed his name. “Yes?”

Jeongguk gestured at the shelf. “How do you choose the prices for these things?”

Your cheeks burned at his inquiry and there was no doubt in Changbin’s mind that you had heard them bickering earlier. He desperately wanted to apologize for Jeongguk’s rudeness but was unable to do so as you started speaking.

“Well, it’s really hard to put an exact price on art,” you started as you printed Changbin’s receipt and stapled it to his paperwork. Changbin thanked you as you handed him his papers.

“Some of those sets are almost a hundred years old,” you continued, leaning on the counter as Changbin put his wallet away, both he and Jeongguk engrossed in your words. 

“That specific set, the one that’s almost a million won, is a rare bone China tea set from England and is about 150 years old.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened and he looked back at the set.

“The prices are determined by the age, condition, and rarity of each item. We also factor in how much work went into restoring each piece. That set came to us in multiple pieces.”

Jeongguk turned back to face you. “So it was restored in the store?”

You nodded as Changbin watched you. 

“Yes. Everything is restored and cleaned in the shop before we sell it.”

Jeongguk chuckled, looking back at the sets. “I'm picturing a cute little elderly lady in the back, cleaning the tea sets,” he murmured but loud enough for both you and Changbin to hear.

Changbin chuckled as well, shaking his head at the image Jeongguk put in his head. A small giggle came from you, causing both to look in your direction.

“Actually, there’s no little old lady,” you said, giggles subsiding.

“I do all the tea sets.”

Changbin’s eyes widened as did Jeongguk’s.

“Wait, you restore the tea sets?” Jeongguk asked. You nodded with a slight redness to your cheeks. “I do,” you answered.

“That’s so… impressive,” Changbin said, making you blush deeper. “What made you get into this line of work?” Jeongguk asked.

“Well, I spent a good portion of my youth and teens attending fancy parties and soirees and I’ve been to more tea parties than I care to count,” you explained as both men continued to listen.

“I’ve never really liked tea that much if I’m being honest, but I’ve always loved the sets.” A small smile spread across your face as you reminisced.

“And the sets were always so pretty. All the intricate patterns and details have this way of drawing you in.” You were so engrossed in your explanation you didn’t notice the way Changbin was looking at you.

“Both the art and even the soft clink of porcelain brings me a great sense of nostalgia,” you continued softly as both men watched you, especially Changbin, with a deep fascination.

"The Japanese have a word for it. Natsukashii."

Changbin had never heard someone speak so passionately about tea sets. Normally he wouldn’t be interested but the fact that you were in it for the art was something he appreciated greatly.

“I’m sorry,” you said suddenly, waving your hand. “I went off on a tangent there.”

You cleared your throat and turned to look at Changbin. 

“We’ll be open until 8 today, so you’re welcome to swing by any time to pick up your chairs. I’ll go ahead and put the sold signs and grab the plastic from the back to wrap them up.”

Changbin smiled and nodded. “I’ll be back before then with a truck,” he replied, standing up straight before tapping the counter softly with his knuckles. “See you then,” you replied with a warm smile.

Jeongguk finally turned away from the tea sets but not before looking at the set below the one he’d called out for being expensive. “What about this one?”

Changbin could have strangled his friend. 

He knew you were probably up to your elbows in work and he really didn’t want to keep you any longer than was necessary.

You must have been some sort of saint, smiling kindly and moving around the counter to get a better look at the set Jeongguk was pointing at.

Changbin allowed himself to look at it and understood why Jeongguk was so intrigued.

It was a black traditional tea set. The black was broken up but lines of gold. It was extremely striking. The inside of the cups was white with speckled blue.

“That’s a traditional Japanese tea set,” you answered. “It’s about fifty years old. It’s made from ceramic as most Japanese sets are,” you answered. “It’s from Kyoto and comes from a very popular geisha house. The story is that it fell while being transported and it cracked, several of the chawan broke into multiple pieces.”

Changbin glanced back at the set. “What’s the gold?” He asked suddenly.

“It’s powdered gold,” you replied, looking at him, meeting his gaze when he turned to look at you. “Have you ever heard of kintsugi?”

Both Changbin and Jeongguk shook their heads. “It’s something I learned from my boss’ wife. She used to restore tea sets before her arthritis set in,” you explained, squeezing between the two to grab the tea pot.

You turned it and showed them the various lines of gold. “This teapot was originally broken into 6 separate pieces when it came to the store. Using resin and gold powder I attached the pieces together. This is called hibi which means crack,” you said as you set the teapot back on the shelf.

“There are other methods but usually I only do this one,” you continued.

“If a piece is missing, sometimes we’ll substitute with a piece from another set but I have yet to have to do that.”

“So why the gold?” Jeongguk asked, asking the question on the tip of Changbin’s tongue.

“Kintsugi is about displaying the imperfections rather than covering them up. It’s the belief that the imperfections are what make it beautiful. As a philosophy, kintsugi treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object. The imperfections become part of the item,” you explained.

Changbin glanced up at his friend who was deep in thought as he looked at the black and gold set. Before Jeongguk could ask anymore questions, Changbin grabbed his friend by the elbow. “I think we’ve taken up enough of Y/N’s time,” he said gently tugging his friend towards the door.

Changbin turned to you as he guided Jeongguk out the door. “Thank you so much,” he said, smiling at you. You returned the gesture, giving him a small bow. “Thank you for coming in,” you replied, giving him a small wave as he exited.

Once the door shut behind them Changbin rounded on Jeongguk. “First you insult the items and then you won’t shut up and stop asking questions?” He asked as they walked down the sidewalk where Jeongguk’s car was parked.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, lowering his mask. “Okay, I admit, the whole price thing, that was out of line. But I was genuinely curious about the sets! It was actually kind of fascinating. I’ve never seen or heard someone talk about tea sets like that,” he replied as he unlocked the car.

Both men opened their doors and slid into their seats. “She’s passionate about it,” Jeongguk continued as he buckled his seatbelt and started the car, the engine roaring to life. “She’s in it for the art,” Changbin added. 

“I think that's something we both can appreciate.”

You watched as Changbin and Jeongguk walked down the sidewalk and out of sight. Once they’d disappeared beyond your scope of vision, you turned and headed back into the backroom to file the store’s copy of the paperwork away and return to your workspace.

The backroom was where you spent a good majority of your time, taking Shinju’s old station. It was a sturdy desk made of white oak wood in the shape of an L. One of the sides was pushed up against the back wall of the workshop and had an attached cabinet.

Inside the cabinet were various tools you used to restore sets including a vast array of paints and paintbrushes. Not only did you clean and seal cracks in the ceramics but you also touched up any painting that needed it.

It was a lot of fine details and tended to be very tedious but you’d always had a particularly steady hand and a deep love for art to begin with. Normally you painted on canvas in your youth. Now the ceramic was your canvas.

You took a seat on your cushioned chair, grabbing the heavy knitted blanket Shinju had gifted you last year to keep your legs warm. For some reason, the back of the shop always got extremely cold, even in the heat of the summer.

Picking up the cup you were currently working on, you started back up, dipping your brush into the small mug of water before dipping it into the gold paint.

The swirls came naturally as the brush tip glided across the ceramic. It was easy work and it took up a decent amount of time. You listened to the music over the shop speakers, simple classical tunes that were pleasant to the ear.

As you continued painting along the rim of the cup, time ticked by on the clock to your right. You hardly paid the face any attention as you worked. Only glancing at it when you felt necessary to gauge how much time before you needed to start cleaning up.

What felt like only minutes but was probably closer to an hour went by before the familiar tinkling of the bell caught your attention. You set the cup down on the cloth that stretched over the workspace before cleaning the brush and quickly patting it dry.

“Hello?” A familiar voice called from the showroom.

You got up, brushing off your apron before heading to the curtain only for it to be pulled back and the face of your boyfriend appeared.

Upon seeing you, Joshua gave you a smile, one you almost returned before remembering that he hadn’t spoken to you since the night at the club.

Joshua noticed the change in your demeanor, the chill in your stare.

“I come with a peace offering,” he said, holding up a brown paper sack without a logo. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously before beckoning him to join you in the back room. 

Once he’d passed the doorway, you moved out to the showroom, crossed to the door and turned the lock before flipping the small sign that read ‘be back soon.’

You returned to the backroom, letting the curtain fall behind you before crossing your arms over your chest and fixing your boyfriend with a blank expression. You were waiting for an apology.

Joshua understood your body language immediately and set the bag on the small table just inside the back room where you usually sat to eat lunch. “I know,” you heard him say softly.

“I messed up,” he continued, moving to place his hands gently on your shoulders.

“I messed up big time and I am so sorry for the way I acted at the club the other night.” 

Looking into his face, you could see the sincerity etched upon his features. He really did mean it. But you weren’t satisfied. That wasn’t all he had to answer for in your opinion.

“And?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And I'm sorry for not talking to you since that night,” Joshua added immediately.

You pursed your lips. "And?"

Joshua gave you a confused look until you sighed and shrugged off your cardigan, showing him the now bruised spot on your arm. The same spot he'd grabbed roughly the night at the club.

His eyes fell on the mark and the confusion melted away as he immediately took your arm gently. "Oh my god, baby," he murmured as he inspected the bruise. "I'm so sorry."

"You're lucky Lilah hasn't seen this. Or my parents," you replied pulling your cardigan back on, fixing Joshua with a blank stare. He immediately reached up, cupping your cheek. "I am so, so sorry, Y/N. I really did not mean to grab you like that."

You nodded wordlessly. "I know," you replied. "But it doesn't change the fact that you did. You need to be more mindful of your actions, Joshua." He nodded in agreement. 

"Of course," he answered. "Hold me accountable. What I did was wrong and inexcusable." He took your hands in his, looking into your eyes. "I promise I'll be more mindful and to pay more attention." He gave your hands a gentle squeeze.

Once you nodded, showing that you both understood and forgave him, Joshua pulled you into a hug, swaying you both lightly until you broke the silence. "So, what's in the bag?"

Joshua had stopped by one of your favorite delis, getting you a lunch special with a sandwich and a cup of soup. The two of you sat at the small break table, eating lunch and chatting.

Joshua explained what he had been up to the last few days and answered your questions about work while you finished your food.

He had just finished explaining something one of the project leads had done when the shrill ringing of the phone cut him off. "Oh shoot," you murmured, getting up and crossing the backroom to answer the landline at Mr. Serizawa's work desk.

"Serizawa’s, this is Y/N speaking," you answered politely.

"Hello, Y/N. It's Isei," a voice on the other side said.

"Oh, hello Mr. Serizawa!"

Joshua had gotten up from the table and crossed the room as you listened to your boss speak. You felt Joshua's presence looming behind you and just as suddenly, you could feel his hands on your hips as he reached you.

"I'm not going to be able to come in later to close the shop," Mr. Serizawa started. "Shinju isn't feeling too great so I'm going to have to take her to the clinic." You furrowed your brow.

"Is she going to be okay?" you asked quickly, ignoring Joshua whispering the word "what" into your ear.

"I'm not sure. Hopefully it's nothing too serious but I'd like you to close up early. And please take the deposit to the bank for me. I don't think I'll be able to get it done by noon tomorrow."

You nodded even though he couldn't see you.

"Of course, Mr. Serizawa. I made a sale today so I'll call them and let them know to come sooner to pick up their items," you replied. "I hope Mrs. Serizawa is okay and tell her I'm thinking of her."

"Thank you Y/N. I will keep you updated. Goodbye"

The line clicked, indicating he had hung up.

You immediately set the phone back down.

"Everything okay?" Joshua asked as you sighed, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Shinju isn't feeling great so Mr. Serizawa is going to take her to the clinic," you said as you turned in his arms.

"He wants me to close the shop early," you added. "Which reminds me." You gently pushed Joshua back and moved over to the filing cabinet to pull out the file with Changbin's receipt.

"I need to call him back so he can come get his items," you murmured as you moved back to the work desk and picked up the phone. Joshua leaned against the counter top, watching you dial the number on the receipt.

The line rang a couple times before it picked up. "Hello?"

"Hi, may I speak with Changbin?"

"Speaking, who is this?"

"It's Y/N. I just got a call from the owner and he's asked me to close the shop early. If you want to still pick up your chairs today, you might want to head over here as soon as possible. I'll be closing the shop within the hour," you explained, playfully swatting Joshua's hand as it started to wander.

"Oh, hang on a sec," Changbin said before speaking indistinctly to someone else. You waited a couple moments before he returned. "I'll be by in ten minutes. Twenty at most," Changbin finally said.

You smiled in relief. "Okay, I'll see you soon," you replied. "Bye bye." You hung up and turned to Joshua who grabbed your waist and pulled you toward him. "Who was that?"

"Just a customer. He came in earlier to buy some chairs," you answered, looking at Joshua. "How long did he say he'd be?" Your boyfriend gave you a mischievous grin. You shook your head.

"He'll be here soon," you answered, trying to pull away but Joshua held you firmly in place. "So like twenty minutes?" he asked with a smirk, leaning in to kiss you. You pulled back much too quickly for his liking. "My lunch break is almost over, Mr. Hong," you said sternly. Joshua snorted but leaned in for another kiss.

His lips parted yours, tongue slipping past and just as quickly, he turned both of you, pressing against you and pinning you against the work desk. "Joshua," you warned as his lips started to wander, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

"Come on," he murmured. "There's a lot I can do in twenty minutes," he continued, one hand sliding down your hip to the hem of your dress. Why you chose to wear such a short one today, you'd never understand.

Your hand quickly grabbed his wrist as his hand dipped between your thighs. "Joshua Hong!" you chastised, eyes widening at the devilish smirk on his face. "Come on, baby," he urged. "I promise I'll be quick." You shook your head, pulling his hand away.

"No way, mister," you answered. "I'd like to keep my job."

Joshua sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. "You're no fun," he grumbled. You smiled cheerfully, giving him a quick peck on the lips before moving to clean up the break table and wash your hands. 

Joshua sulked, watching you clean up and start putting away your painting supplies before setting the tea set you were working on in one of the empty cabinets and shutting the door.

Just as you were finishing up, there was a knock at the front door. You wiped your hands on your apron and ignored your boyfriend's pout to go answer the door.

Once past the curtain, you saw Changbin with Chris standing at the door, chatting amongst themselves. You approached the door, unlocked it and opened it to greet them.

"Hey," you said cheerfully as you let them into the shop as Joshua appeared from behind the curtain. You caught a glimpse of his expression and you could tell he was now upset.

You narrowed your eyes, silently telling him to knock it off.

"They shouldn't be too heavy, Changbin noted as he and Chris moved over to the two chairs. You waited by the door for them to pick up the chairs which they each did with relative ease.

Holding the door open, you let them pass by you as they carried the chairs out to the waiting truck. Chris set the chair he carried down before opening the tailgate of his truck. Each one of them carefully loaded the covered chairs into the bed.

You watched as Chris climbed in, starting to carefully secure the chairs with rope. Once tied down, Chris hopped down while Changbin walked over to where you stood on the stoop.

"Thanks again for giving me the heads up," he said with a smile, one you returned. "Of course," you answered. "I don't know when your shop is opening and I'm sure you'd want to have these chairs now rather than later." Changbin nodded before glancing past you into the shop where Joshua stood, arms crossed and looking unimpressed. Changbin quickly looked back at you.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly. Your heart pounded in your chest at his soft expression. He barely knew you and yet here he was, being so sweet and making sure you were okay. You nodded.

"Yeah. We're fine," you answered. Changbin nodded and turned to look back at Chris. "All set?" he asked. The other man nodded, giving him double thumbs up. "All set!"

Changbin turned back to face you. "Thank you again," he said with that same soft smile. "I'll see you around, Y/N!"

With a wave, he jogged around to the passenger side of the truck as Chris got into the driver's seat. Once they were settled, Chris started the truck which roared to life, and the two took off, pulling out carefully onto the main street and heading out of view.

You stepped back into the shop, letting the door shut before you turned the lock and turned, just now remembering Joshua was in the shop, arms still crossed, and an unmistakable scowl on his face.

"What was that?" he demanded as you walked towards him. " What was what?" you asked as you reached the curtain and pushed it aside, letting it catch in the curtain hook. Joshua followed you into the backroom as you moved towards the supply closet for the broom and dustpan. "You know what," he argued.

"He was a customer, Joshua," you said, no longer amused by his behavior. "All the smiles and waves? What the hell was that?" he asked again as you grabbed the broom and started sweeping.

"He was a customer," you reiterated. "I'm nice to all my customers," you continued as you swept the backroom. It took less than five minutes to sweep as it wasn't a busy day and Mr. Serizawa hadn't been in the shop to work on furniture. You dumped the dustbin and moved to the front of the store, Joshua hot on your heels. "I don't like him," he said as he watched you.

"You don't even know him," you retorted.

"Neither do you."

"Chris does."

"You don't know Chris so you couldn't possibly trust his judgment."

"Lilah knows them."

You savored your victory when Joshua fell silent. He couldn't argue with that. "In any case, I think you should stay away from him," Joshua finally said. You paused your sweeping to turn and look at him. "Are we really having the whole control conversation again?"

Confusion was replaced by realization as Joshua's posture relaxed. "I'm only thinking about your safety," he answered. You sighed, turning away and rolling your eyes. "I'll be just fine," you replied.

Joshua said nothing, instead checked his watch and huffed.

"I'd better get back to the office," he announced, disappearing into the backroom to grab his jacket before returning. "Are you going to be okay walking home by yourself?" he asked. You nodded as he approached, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

"Text me when you get home," he added before heading to the door and unlocking it. "And lock this door as soon as I leave," he added with a faux stern expression. You rolled your eyes playfully and walked over as he exited, closing the door behind him and waited for you to turn the deadbolt.

After checking the door, he waved and headed to his waiting car. You watched as he got in and drove off before flipping the closed sign and pulling the shade on the door window down.

You resumed sweeping until you were certain every nook and cranny was swept. Returning the broom and dustpan to the supply closet, you bagged up all trash and took the bag out to the dumpster in the alley behind the shop.

Once back inside, you locked the backdoor and headed up front to pull the shades down on all the windows and then went behind the counter to count the register for all the cash transactions.

After counting and adding it to the ledger, you headed into Mr. Serizawa's office to access the safe and collect the deposit for the bank. Putting the money in the locking cash bag, you put the bag inside your purse and tripled checked all doors were locked.

You grabbed your jacket, purse, and keys and headed out the door, making sure to lock both locks before heading down the sidewalk towards the bank. This wasn't the first time you'd deposited money for Mr. Serizawa and you were glad he trusted you with such a task.

The walk to the bank took only about ten minutes and once you deposited the money and got the receipt, you were about half way to your apartment when you realized you forgot your phone and your apartment key.

Cursing yourself, you begrudgingly turned back and headed to the shop. It added an additional 20 minutes but soon you had your phone and house key in hand and you were back outside the shop, locking the knob and deadbolt.

You were fiddling with the deadbolt when you heard someone call your name.

Looking over your shoulder, you were met by the smiling face of--

"Jeonghan!" you said as you finally got the deadbolt to slide into place and turned to properly greet the man. He gave you a warm smile. “How have you been?” He asked as you returned the shop keys to your purse.

“I’ve been good!” 

An awkward silence filled the air before Jeonghan spoke.

“You closing up the shop?”

You shook your head before nodding. “Well, sort of,” you answered. 

“I closed earlier but forgot my phone and house keys like an idiot.”

Jeonghan’s expression shifted from warm to confused. “You aren’t an idiot,” he replied. “We all forget things from time to time.” You nodded wordlessly.

“Well, I’d better get home.”

“Would you mind if I walked you home?”

You both stared at one another before laughing. “Go ahead,” Jeonghan continued. “What were you going to say?”

“Just that I should probably head home,” you replied. Jeonghan nodded. “I was going to offer to walk you, but I’m sure you’ll manage on your own,” he stated.

“Yes,” you answered. “But thank you anyway.”

The two of you parted ways after an awkward goodbye and you made the short walk back to your apartment, stopping just inside the door to grab your mail and head up to your floor. 

As you reached the top of the stairs, the front door of the apartment next door opened, your neighbor poking his head out.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, catching your attention. You looked over to see his normally tidy black hair was tousled, glasses slightly askew. “Are you okay?” You asked, mildly concerned. “You don’t look so good, Wonwoo.”

Your neighbor shook his head. “I’m alright. I just realized, halfway into my shower, that I don’t have any body wash. Could I borrow some? I’ve got a date tonight and you’d really be doing me a favor.”

You tried to hold back your laughter. “I would except I think my body wash might not go over too well with your date. She might think you have a girlfriend,” you answered. Wonwoo stared blankly at you until your words sank in.

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he finally said, eyes widening. “What do I do?”

You finally let out a laugh before shrugging. “If you’re really in a pinch, dish soap would probably work,” you answered. Wonwoo’s face lit up. “Brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that?” You shook your head. “No idea.”

“Thanks Y/N,” Wonwoo said before disappearing into his apartment and shutting the door, leaving you to unlock your own door and enter your apartment, letting the door shut behind you before locking it and looking over your mail as you entered your apartment.

After sorting your mail and going through the important papers, you started your usual nighttime ritual of dinner, a movie, and your evening bedtime routine. Once in bed, you made sure your phone was plugged in and your alarm was set for the next morning.

The next morning was Sunday which meant it was time for church. It wasn’t your favorite activity but you didn’t have much of a choice when it came to attendance. Your mother and father always made you attend in your youth and while you didn’t necessarily believe, your attendance was expected.

The vibration of your phone caught your attention as you sat at your vanity having just finished your makeup.

You sighed, turning to grab your phone as you checked the screen. It was your mother. You swiped the screen, bringing the device up to your ear as you looked over your outfit choices. “Hello?”

Your mother’s dulcet voice greeted you.

“Good morning, dear,” she said soothingly. “Did I wake you?”

You rolled your eyes. “No mother,” you answered as you picked up a hanger, inspecting the outfit. It was a white tweed jacket and skirt set with a gold pattern and a short sleeve white turtleneck.

“I’ve been up for about an hour now.”

“Are you getting ready?” You nodded, resisting the urge to sigh annoyed at her tone. “I am,” you answered. “Picking out an outfit now.”

“I’m sure you’ll select something appropriate,” your mother responded. “Mhm,” you replied, not really paying attention to what she was saying. “How are you planning to get to the church?” Your mother suddenly asked.

You hesitated. “Uh… I had planned to walk,” you answered. You heard your mother tut. “We’ll just send a car to come get you.” You sighed heavily. 

Your parents lived in a gated community on the west side of Sejong, a much nicer area of the city, though most of the city was nice. Your family came from money, as did most of your friends. Your friend group attended the best private schools in Sejong, continuing onto university and never having to worry about how to pay for tuition or books. You knew how fortunate you were and how privileged your upbringing was. 

“I’m perfectly fine walking,” you retorted as you set the suit down and picked up another outfit, a short sleeve ribbed white turtleneck with a black skirt and a split cropped short sleeve blazer. One side was entirely black while the other side and the collar was a black with white plaid pattern.

“Don’t be silly, dear. It would take such a long time for you to walk there. Our driver will come get you. We’ll send Martin.” You knew there was no point in arguing and relented. “Fine,” you answered. “I’ll see you at the church, mother.”

Before she had the opportunity to redirect the conversation, you said goodbye and hung up. “This one,” you said, turning to your closet and grabbing a belt and a pair of shoes to match.

Once dressed and looking up to your own standards of “church ready” you grabbed a small clutch purse and put a few items inside; lip gloss, phone, compact, and wallet. You weren’t sure if you were going to go out to eat after services or if you were going to come straight home but you wanted to be prepared either way.

As you headed out of your apartment, your phone vibrated in your purse. Locking your door before you forgot, you puled the device from your bag and checked the notifications. A slew of texts from Lilah filled the screen.

Lilah🌕: are you going today? Lilah🌕: i don’t know why you pretend to believe Lilah🌕: we could be doing more productive things Rolling your eyes with a slight smirk, you typed a response. You: you know how my parents would freak if I stopped coming You: besides, it’s not that bad

Lilah’s response was instantaneous and you pictured here lounging on her bed, waiting for you to text her back.

Lilah🌕: speak for yourself. You don’t get weird stares when you’re just sitting there existing. All those people follow teaching that tell them not to judge yet that’s all those hypocrites do Lilah🌕: skip services and come see me instead Lilah🌕: I miss you ):

You sighed as you took a break from her messages to head down the stairs. After the last time you tried to text while traversing the stairs ended up with a trip to the hospital and a twisted ankle followed by bed rest and a bulky brace, you learned your lesson.

Once you were on flat ground again, you stopped by your building’s front door and peered out the glass, looking for the car your mother insisted on sending. You saw nothing and instead went back to your messages.

Lilah🌕: where you go? ):< You: i was walking down the stairs lol calm down Lilah🌕: oh yeah. We don’t want a repeat of last time You: i remember thanks lol anyway i can’t skip You: my mother is sending a car to pick me up Lilah🌕: BOOOO. BOO KAREN You: my mother’s name isn’t Karen Lilah🌕: no but your mother IS a Karen You: 🧍🏻‍♀️  Lilah🌕: just tell Jeeves that you don’t feel well and come see me instead :> Lilah🌕: we can order pizza and watch Gilmore Girls! You: ugh i wish but i can’t back out now Lilah🌕: why not? ):< You: because the car just got here

You sighed and locked your screen as a familiar silver car pulled up.

It was definitely one of your father’s, a silver Lexus. Your father loved his Lexuses.

The driver’s door opened and a tall man, who you presumed to be Martin, in a black suit with black sunglasses stepped out, moving to open the back passenger door like some sort of secret service. 

Holding in a chuckle, you descended the steps, smiling as he greeted you with a formal “morning miss.” You thanked him as you climbed into the back, settling in the seat as Martin shut the door and walked back to the driver’s side.

The interior was an off-white leather and rather spacious. Leave it to your parents to send such a nice car to pick you up for church.

Once Martin put the car in gear and pulled onto the street, you returned to your texts with your best friend.

Lilah🌕: boo. Throw up on him You: lilah! 💀 Lilah🌕: what?? He’ll leave you there to go home and change and then tell Karen that he refuses to pick you up ever again. It’s a win-win! You: absolutely not lol Lilah🌕: sometimes you’re no fun Lilah🌕: you already on your way there? You: yeah. It’s so quiet in the car. No music, no conversation, nothing Lilah🌕: not even Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2? Lilah🌕: what has happened to society? How could they not play Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2 You: oh stop it lol 😂 You: i just meant it’s really awkward right now.

The car jostled as it hit a small bump and Martin apologized quietly, glancing at you in the rearview. “It’s not a problem, Martin,” you replied kindly. “Just another sign that Sejong needs to focus on repairing some of these roads instead of the other ventures they seem to be spend on,” you added as you looked back down.

Lilah🌕: you mean Jeeves isn’t the most fabulous conversationalist you’ve ever met? Lilah🌕: absolutely unacceptable. How did he even land that job? You: your sarcasm is leaking through my screen, Li Lilah🌕: good 🥰 Lilah🌕: i’m gonna watch a movie. Text me when the cult meeting is over You: Lilah! Lilah🌕: love you!! ❤️😘

You chuckled as you put your phone away, looking up as Martin pulled up outside the cathedral. You took a deep breath as Martin got out to open the door and you stepped out as members of the congregation started filing into the open doors, some stopping to greet others.

You thanked Martin as you brushed your skirt and looked back up. You didn’t see your parents anywhere outside and figured they must be inside already. Taking another deep breath, you followed the throngs of people entering the building and climbed the stone steps up to the doors.

Inside the foyer were small crowds of people, all speaking to one another. The doors that led into the main room were still closed as no doubt the staff were preparing for the services. You finally caught sight of your parents who were standing off to one side talking with Joshua’s parents, your boyfriend standing nearby and looking like he was part of the conversation.

You squeezed through the crowded foyer, saying excuse me until you reached them. Joshua was the first to spot you as you approached. He greeted you with a smile, breaking from the group to pull you into a light hug, pressing a kiss to your temple before your parents and his noticed your presence.

“Oh good,” you heard your mother say as Joshua guided you over to both sets of parents. You noticed another couple of your parents’ friends were standing in the circle and you could feel their eyes scrutinizing not only you but Joshua as well.

You saw the way the woman, whose name you forgot, looked over you, scanning your outfit and how you had presented yourself. It made you feel like a child all over again and you were showing your parent what you had picked to wear on the first day of school.

“You’ve made it,” your mother said, drawing your attention from the woman silently judging your choice of attire. You weren’t sure why she was judging you so hard, especially when she was wearing what you assumed was a dress. It looked like something she’d probably been wearing since the 1980’s and probably should have stayed there.

“What are you wearing?” Your mother asked softly, eyes looking at your jacket.

You glanced down and then back up. “What?” You asked. “What’s wrong with it?”

You saw the way your mother glanced to the side, probably to see if anyone was looking at you. Glancing back, you saw that no one was. “It just doesn’t seem appropriate for church,” your mother responded before turning as her name was called and she greeted another member of the congregation with your father in tow. You tried not to let her words get to you.

After all, you were used to this. You’d expected the scrutiny but for some reason, it still hurt. You were an adult now and she still treated you like a child.

You felt an arm around your shoulders before Joshua whispered in your ear. “You look nice,” he said softly. The sour feeling that had started to prickle at the back of your throat started to subside, as did the heat of embarrassment.

He always managed to calm you down when it came to your mother.

“Thanks,” you replied just as softly. “I think you look amazing in everything you wear,” Joshua added, kissing your cheek. Your cheeks burned and you mumbled at him to stop though that was the last thing you wanted.

You giggled as Joshua nuzzled your cheek until you heard his mother’s sharp voice calling his name. Joshua looked over his shoulder at her. “We are in public,” she said sternly, fixing you with a steely glare. Like it was your fault for Joshua’s behavior. “You’re right,” Joshua said turning back to look at you, taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head to place a kiss on your lips right as the doors opened.

“Joshua!” You heard his mother hiss. Joshua rolled his eyes with a smile on his lips. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured, giving you one last peck before you were dragged away by your mother who reprimanded you for public displays of affection as she led you and your stoic father to a row of benches about half way into the room. 

You were thankful to be sitting at the furthest end of the row closest to the outside wall as more people filed into the church, filling the rows. Your mother was sat on the other side of your father who merely checked his watch before looking around the room, almost as if he was bored and you were left wondering if he even wanted to be here.

As the rows behind and in front of you filled up, your parents greeted the other members of the congregation, speaking about everything ranging from business to their plans for the week. Your mother talked about upcoming charity events and soirees while your father spoke strictly business and golf.

You checked your phone quickly, seeing Lilah had sent you a couple texts about the movie she was watching and reminding you to text her when you got out of church. You were about to put your phone away when you got another text. One from your boyfriend.

Joshy: put your phone away ma’am

A smile spread across your face as you typed a response.

You: you first Joshy: i can see you 👁  You: well, it’s not like i’m trying to hide from you Joshy: turn around

You looked behind you and saw him a couple rows behind with his parents, staring directly at you with a smirk.

You turned back to look at your phone.

Joshy: hi You: you’re such a dork Joshy: you still love me You: do i? 🤔  Joshy: i’m wounded ): 💔 You: poor baby Joshy: hey. I’m not a baby 😠 You: awww is the widdle baby mad? Joshy: i’m NOT a baby Joshy: you’re the baby Joshy: you’re my baby You: i know 😌🥰 You: okay princess 🙄 Joshy: you really should put your phone away though You: i’m a rebel  Joshy: is that so? You: yes 😈 Joshy: I'm not sure you should be using that emoji in a house of worship 🤨 You: just goes to show I'm a rebel 😎💅🏻 Joshy: okay Rebel Girl, meet me in the basement ten minutes after the services start You: we can’t leave! 😶 Joshy: i thought you were a rebel 🤨 You: i am ):< Joshy: prove it to me You: i dont know Josh… Joshy: either you’re your parents’ good girl or your mine Joshy: you decide You: but Josh ): Joshy: ten minutes. I’ll see you downstairs ♥️

You glanced up as the sermon started, slipping your phone into your purse and placing your hands over it. The pastor’s words seemed to just go into one ear and out the other as you tried to think of a way to sneak away.

Checking your watch you saw you only had a couple minutes left. ‘How the hell am I going to get away?’ You glanced around, eyes scanning the congregation. Most eyes were on the pastor as he spoke, his droning voice no doubt boring into their brains much like it did to yours.

You noticed several kids were either dozing off, playing on their phones, or just flat out asleep. Even some adults were dozing off. You heard whispered voices behind you and glanced back in time to see Joshua whispering to his mother and getting up.

Turning back forward, you stared at the back of the bench before you, wracking your brain until Lilah’s words to you earlier hit you.

‘Throw up on him.’

‘That’s it!’ You leaned forward slightly, dropping your head. Your father merely glanced at you but your mother leaned across him to ask you what the matter was. You lifted your head briefly. “I think I’m going to be sick,” you whispered. Your mother studied your body and so you threw in a fake retch for good measure.

“Go to the bathroom. Do not throw up here.”

You nodded and got up slowly, making sure to move as quickly as possible but not too quickly. Once you were out in the foyer, you turned to the right and headed for the steps that lead into the basement of the church where a few rooms for classes and a secondary set of bathrooms were.

You walked down the hallway, keeping your head on a swivel to keep an eye out for not only your boyfriend but staff as well. You were passing an empty room when you felt a hand grab your arm and tug you into the room, another hand clamping over your mouth to prevent you from screaming.

Your heart hammered as Joshua pushed you against a wall, shutting the door behind him.

You let out a deep exhale as he removed his hand. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t want you to scream.” You hit him lightly with your purse. “You scared the crap out of me!” You hissed as he cackled softly. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said as he leaned in, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Let me make it up to you?”

You felt one of his hands slid up between your legs. “We are in a church,” you hissed as his hand continued under your skirt. “That hasn’t stopped us before,” he murmured, lips ghosting over yours. “I thought we agreed to never talk about that again,” you whispered as his lips moved to your neck, leaving light, feathery kisses that verged on tickling.

“I guess I forgot that memo.”

You rolled your eyes, let out a soft gasp as his fingers made contact with your cloth covered sex. “Joshua!” You warned, though it couldn’t have been much of a warning when your voice was so shaky. Joshua clearly heard the tremble in your voice.

“You sure you want me to stop?” He asked, his hand stopping. You shook your head quickly. “No,” you gasped. Joshua smiled against your skin. “Good girl.”

"Have you seen my charger?"

Changbin glanced up, making eye contact with Minho who was peering into the room, holding up his wall plug but the cord was missing. Changbin shook his head and returned to his tablet.

Minho narrowed his eyes as his boss. "Did you take it?" he asked the younger man. Changbin glanced back up before fishing his phone out of his pocket and holding it up for Minho to see.

"Why would I take an Apple charger for an Apple device when I use exclusively Samsung products?" he asked, lips threatening to twitch into a smirk as he returned the same scrutinizing stare.

Minho only held his gaze for a few moments more before conceding. "What about Jeongguk?" he asked as Changbin pocket his phone and went back to ordering supplies on his tablet.

"Also Samsung," a voice said, causing Minho to turn and look up at the man in question as Jeongguk held up his phone. "Ask your roommate," Jeongguk added as he returned his phone to his pocket. Minho glared in the direction of Chris' station before slinking out of the room like a cat.

Jeongguk snorted as Minho could be heard in the background.

"Give me back my charger you thieving, two-faced Australian bitch!"

Changbin shook his head, holding in his laughter as he finished adding items to his cart. He glanced up as Jeongguk sat on the custom red bench Changbin specially ordered for his last shop.

"Do you need any new needles or bands?" Changbin asked, not looking up as he continued to tap away on his tablet. Jeongguk shook his head. I still have bands from that last order," he admitted and my station is overstocked on needles."

Changbin nodded silently as he proceeded to check out.

Minho and Chris could be heard bickering in the background as Changbin finished filling out the forms and placed his order, saving his confirmation number before setting the tablet on the desk behind him. He turned back to face his friend.

"Did you need something?" Changbin asked, just now noticing Jeongguk held a stack of colored papers in his hands. Jeongguk nodded at the stack, tilting it to show Changbin the front.

"They flyers came in," he answered. Four colors like you ordered," he added. Changbin crossed the distance and held out his hand to take the stack and look over the paper.

It was exactly as he ordered. "Perfect," he murmured. "You still wanna post them around town?" Jeongguk asked as Changbin flipped to the other colored pages. He nodded. "Yeah, where are the other two?" he asked, absent-mindedly scanning the paper.

Jeongguk leaned back and whistled, drawing the attention of the two bickering in the other room. Moments later, Chris and Minho appeared at the doorway, looking equal parts shocked and curious. "You got plans tonight?" Jeongguk asked, glancing over his shoulder at them.

"I was going to see Ari," Minho admitted while Chris shook his head. "We just got the flyers in," Changbin said, holding up the stack to show them. "We wanted to put them up around town," Jeongguk added. "You guys in?"

"Or you gonna make us do all the work?" Changbin asked teasingly. Chris smiled widely. "I'm in," he replied cheerfully before turning to look at Minho who rolled his eyes before a smirk formed on his face. "I guess I can see Ari afterwards," he said, pulling his phone out to no doubt shoot her a text.

"Great," Changbin said, splitting up the flyers and handing one color to each person. "Well split into pairs. Minho and Jeongguk, you take east of main, Chris and I will cover the west side. Check in with the small shops. Ask if they have a business bulletin board. If they refuse, just move on," Changbin explained. "I don't wanna make enemies or cause a scene."

Minho, Chris and Jeongguk nodded. "Wait, how are we attaching these?" Minho asked as Jeongguk glanced at Changbin. "Oh, right," the eldest said as he got up, handing his stack of papers to Changbin and sauntered out of the room.

He returned a couple moments later with a plain white paperboard box and opened the lid, setting it on the bench. He pulled out four staple guns, handing one to each guy before passing out smaller little boxes of staples. "My brother sent these with the flyers," he explained as he opened his own staple gun and loaded the staples into it. 

"Your brother?" Chris asked, tilting his head curiously. Jeongguk nodded as he pulled the trigger, making sure his staple gun was loaded properly. "Yeah, he made the flyers." Minho glanced down at the papers. "He's a talented artist," he noted.

"He's a comic book artist," Jeongguk explained. "So we commissioned him to design the flyers and then print them for us," Changbin continued. "Come on," he added. "The sun's going down and I'd like to get this up with the light."

The four headed out of the shop, Changbin locking up after Minho finally exited. "If you run out of flyers, awesome," Changbin said looking at Jeongguk. "If not, no big deal. Just go around until the sun sets." 

The brunet nodded and motioned for Minho to follow him. Changbin and Chris turned and headed in the opposite direction. It was a mundane and repetitive task, stapling the flyers on the wooden telephone poles, stopping by small businesses and asking them to display the flyers on any bulletin boards they might have.

A few businesses turned them away, albeit very rudely upon hearing the word tattoo. Some business owners were only too happy to help support other local businesses.

Half their stacks were gone as they continued down one of the many side streets off main street, stapling sheets as they went.

While taking a short break, Changbin noticed Chris smiling at his phone as he typed away. Changbin didn't want to pry but he wanted to make an effort to get to know his employees as he would most likely end up being close friends with these guys.

"Lilah?" Changbin asked, drawing Chris' attention. The older man smiled as he locked his screen. "Yeah," he answered. "She's really funny," he added. Changbin nodded. "She's pretty tol," he added, causing Chris to smile wider.

A comfortable silence fell over them before Chris spoke up.

"Her friend, Y/N, is really pretty, too."

Changbin’s heart thumped in his chest at the mention of Y/N's name. He nodded silently. "Yeah," he answered nonchalantly. "She has a boyfriend though, right?" Changbin added, looking at Chris who nodded. "Yeah," he said, sounding slightly bitter.

"Joshua Hong."

Changbin’s mind wandered back to that night at the club. The night he met you and was willing to put himself between you and your boyfriend. It was clear to him then that Joshua wasn't the nicest guy and he got that same impression again when he went to pick up his furniture from Serizawa's antique store.

"You don't like him?" Changbin asked, watching Chris as he contemplated telling him something. Whatever it was Chris was keeping from him, Changbin could tell he was hiding something bigger and he would be lying if he said his curiosity wasn't piqued.

"No," Chris answered, voice devoid of emotion. "From what Lilah tells me, Y/N could do so much better than Joshua," he continued. "Chris stopped in his tracks before turning to look at Changbin who had also stopped. "Why are you so interested all of a sudden?"

Changbin tried to play it off by shrugging. I met her through you and Lilah, she works at that furniture and antique shop. I keep running into her and I've been wondering if she's always so nice."

Chris nodded with a smile. "She's always been such a sweetheart. Ever since I first met her hardly anything gets her down." Changbin and Chris started walking again. 

"You seem to know her pretty well," Changbin noted, to which Chris snorted. "I know what Lilah tells me," he corrected. He turned to fox Changbin with a curious look. "You seem awfully interested in a girl who has a boyfriend," he said, watching as Changbin shook his head once more. "Nah," Changbin answered.

"Just curious as to what her story is. That's all."

Across town, Minho and Jeongguk were just as busy stapling posters to every wooden post they came across.

"Ah my arms are so tired!" Minho whined, shaking his arm. Jeongguk snorted at him. "Are you always this whiny?" Jeongguk asked as he checked his phone. Minho gave him a cheeky smile. "No," he answered. "It's just for you."

Jeongguk playfully swiped at the younger man who dodged him easily. "Just hang up your damn flyers," Jeongguk said as he slipped his phone into his pocket again. "Stop bothering me."

Minho rolled his eyes as he moved to staple another flier to the phone pole. "Yes, dear."

It was Jeongguk's turn to roll his eyes as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Minho turned and shot a staple at him. Jeongguk glanced at the tiny metal projectile hanging onto his sweatshirt and looked up at Minho. "Aren't you supposed to be quitting?" Minho asked, narrowing his eyes as Jeongguk pulled out his lighter.

"'Supposed to' being the operative word," Jeongguk answered as he lit the end of the cigarette, taking a deep inhale. "To my credit," he continued as he put the pack and his lighter away. "I haven't bought any more. This is my last pack."

Minho rolled his eyes and continued down the street, stapling another flier to a wooden board covering a vacant building window.

"If you were a good friend, you'd help me finish the pack," Jeongguk jokingly accused as he took another drag. Minho laughed and turned to look at Jeongguk. "I'm not your friend," he retorted. "You're my employer," he added.

Jeongguk chuckled. "Seriously, do you want one?"

Minho shook his head. "I quit," he replied. "I noticed it only made me more anxious instead of taking the edge off."

Jeongguk shrugged his shoulders and took another puff. "Suit yourself."

The two of them continued down the street as the sun started to set behind the hills and trees that surrounded the town.

"Can I ask you something?" Minho asked suddenly. Jeongguk took another drag of his cigarette before exhaling. "Sure," he answered, looking at the younger man as they stopped on the sidewalk.

"How did you and Changbin meet? How do you know each other?"

Jeongguk hesitated, reaching up to scratch his head. "The long story is complicated but the short version is we met at a tattoo convention when Changbin was first looking to open his own shop. I was working a booth as a traveling artist, renting spaces at shops all over. I guess I was trying to find something more stable, " he explained before taking another long inhale of smoke.

"Changbin stopped by my booth and was impressed with my work and we started talking and when he asked which shop I worked at, I told him the truth," Jeongguk explained while Minho listened.

"He told me he was about to open his own shop and asked if I would come work at his place. Initially, I said no but the more I thought about it, I decided to give it a try," he continued.

Minho nodded, watching Jeongguk take another drag. "And that's it?" He asked. Jeongguk studied him for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, pretty much. Four years later, and we're business partners," Jeongguk concluded. "He's my best friend," he added.

"As cheesy as it sounds, I couldn't imagine where I'd be in life without him," Jeongguk said as he took one last draw from his cigarette before putting it out. Minho nodded in understanding.

"I get it," he replied. "It's kind of like that for me with Chris." Jeongguk nodded in return before glancing up at the darkening sky. "Come on," he said suddenly. "We should head back, put more of these up on the way," he added, waving the lighter stack of flyers in his hand before leading the way down the sidewalk, Minho in tow.

Back at the shop, Changbin was scrolling on his phone while Chris played a music game when the door opened, the bell ringing and drawing their attention. Minho and Jeongguk entered with smug smiles on their faces. Minho held up his staple gun and aimed at Chris before launching a single tiny projectile at his friend.

"We put up all our flyers," Jeongguk said as Chris and Minho got into a staple war. Changbin looked impressed as Jeongguk strolled over and set his staple gun on the reception counter. "You smell like smoke," Changbin accused. Jeongguk shrugged his shoulders.

"My last pack is almost empty," he answered. "Then I'm done."

Changbin narrowed his eyes. "You better be," he said, playfully shoving his friend as Chris put Minho in a headlock which he quickly tapped out of.

Chris laughed loudly before looking over at Changbin and Jeongguk.

"Hey, we're gonna order some pizza and play video games tonight," he announced, drawing the attention of both men. "Maybe watch a movie. You guys wanna come?" Chris looked hopeful as Minho glanced to Jeongguk and Changbin who exchanged looks.

"Sure," Jeongguk answered, turning to look back at the two men.

Minho and Chris' eyes shifted to Changbin who glanced at Jeongguk before answering.

"Yeah, count me in.

You joined the crowd as the congregation exited the church, easily finding your mother and father as Joshua snuck off to find his parents. The sky had started to darken, gray clouds looming overhead.

Your mother turned to look at you and upon seeing you, she looked exasperated.

“You missed the whole service!” She reprimanded. You grimaced at her. “Sorry,” you replied. “I think I emptied the entire contents of my stomach in the bathroom.”

Your mother looked you over. “I was going to see if you wanted to join us for lunch with the Hong’s but perhaps you should go home,” she said as Joshua and his parents joined your little group. “I think we should postpone the lunch,” your mother said, sounding apologetic. “Y/N isn’t feeling well.

“Is that so?” Joshua’s mother asked, eyeing you suspiciously. You nodded silently as your mother felt your forehead. “Yes, she’s sweating and warm. She mentioned getting sick in the bathroom. I think we should wait until she feels better.”

Joshua’s mother nodded, lips pursed as she continued to look at you with that same scrutinizing stare. “Will you call Martin, dear,” your mother asked your father who reluctantly reached into his pocket for his phone.

Joshua interjected. “Y/N’s place is on the way to my apartment. I could drop her off,” he offered. “Maybe make her some soup and make sure she feels better before I head home?” The contrasting looks your mother and his gave you could have been comical.

Your mother was looking at your boyfriend like he was a saint, an angel even, to suggest doing something so sweet. The perfect boyfriend who would one day make the perfect husband. ‘In sickness and in health.’

His mother on the other hand was looking at you as if you were some harlot, trying to entice her son to sin. Like you would lead him directly into the gates of hell or something. She never did like you for some reason.

“If she’s sick, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said softly. You didn’t miss the intonation in her voice as she said the word sick. It held an underlying layer of contempt she held for you. Joshua waved her concern off. “I’m sure it’s fine, mother. Y/N probably ate something that didn’t agree with her,” he said.

“She’s always had issues with her stomach. I’m sure you remember that.”

Joshua’s mother pursed her lips again, glaring at you from behind her son.

“Thank you so much, Joshua,” your mother said sweetly as your boyfriend moved to wrap an arm securely around your shoulders. “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Y/L/N. After all, Y/N is my girlfriend and I would be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t take care of her.” You could have sworn you saw your mother swoon as Joshua said goodbye to both sets of parents and gently steered you towards the door.

“You really don’t have to drive me home,” you said as you descended the steps outside and followed the sidewalk towards the parking lot. Joshua chuckled as he led the way. “Actually, I do now,” he answered. “If either of our parents saw you walking home, they would ask a lot more questions than they are now.”

You cursed mentally, knowing he was right.

“I guess you’ve got a point,” you said with a shrug. Joshua tsked and rolled his eyes. “Just can’t admit it when I’m right, can you?” You shook your head with a wide grin. “Never.”

Joshua scoffed as he led you to the passenger side of his car. “Brat,” he murmured as he unlocked and opened your door for you. “Thank you,” you said, laying heavy on the word so he wouldn’t know what you were thanking him for.

The ride back to your place took a shorter amount of time than the ride to the church. Joshua parked on the street, as he usually did. He had every intention of coming inside to “take care of you” as he put it. As soon as the apartment door shut, he was on you in seconds, one hand on your cheek and the other on the small of your back as he carefully backed you against your kitchen counter.

“Up,” he simply said, moving both hands to your thighs to help you up onto the counter before his lips were back on yours. “I need to go to the store,” you interrupted, pulling away but he shook his head. “I’ll order you groceries,” he answered, lips moving down your neck and stopping to remove your blazer and untuck your shirt.

“Joshua!” You whined as he pulled your top off over your head and threw it aside. “Keep saying my name like that,” he said breathlessly. Your head tilted to the side as his lips continued to kiss down your neck. “Seeing you come undone earlier really drove me crazy,” he groaned, fingers digging into the skin of your exposed thighs.

Before you had a chance to reply, he pulled you down from the counter, turning you to face away before he pressed against you, grinding into your ass. “I had to deal with this the whole ride over here,” he growled. You pushed back against him.

“Must have been so hard for you,” you said, enjoying the way he grew more and more frustrated. “If you don’t stop it, I’ll take you right here.” You hummed in response. “Oh, i’m so scared,” you replied, pushing against him again, letting out a moan at the feeling of his erection grinding against you.

“Fine,” Joshua said, one hand moving to the back of your neck. “Have it your way, brat.” Without another word, he pushed your chest down against the counter, keeping you pinned while the other hand reached to undo his belt and pants.

“You gonna keep me waiting?” You asked teasingly as Joshua pushed his pants and boxers down enough to pull his cock free. “What have I told you about that attitude, sweetheart?” He asked as his hand pushed your skirt up, grabbing the back of your panties and roughly pulling them down your thighs.

“That you’ll fuck it out of me?” You asked coyly.

Joshua wasted no time, ramming his cock into your pussy, making you cry out. He quickly placed his hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. “Precisely,” he answered before his hips started to thrust sharply, hitting your ass with each movement.

Each thrust had you practically screaming into his hand, your own hands trying to find something to grab onto to ground yourself from the force of your boyfriend’s hips. Another loud scream, muffled by his hand, escaped your lips.

“You alright, baby?” You heard him in your ear, his hips slowing to shallow thrusts. You nodded, breathing heavily against his hand. "Good," he replied, resuming the same merciless pace as before, pounding into you from behind, hand still muffling your cries as he took his pent up sexual tension on your body.

It never failed to astonish you just how rough Joshua got in bed. Of course, he wasn't like that the first couple times. It wasn't until you asked him to go a little harder that it came out. When you were both frustrated and needed release, he usually bent you over the closest surface and fucked you so hard you couldn't walk.

That wasn't to say he was always rough with you. For every rough session, he made up for the abuse to your core by showering you in affection. For every scream he'd pulled from you, there were twice as many whispered I love you's as he reverently made love to you.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last," you heard him grunt in your shoulder. "I'm gonna cum." You whimpered against his hand as he chased his high, taking you over the edge with him as you both came together, you with a squeal as he thrust deeply into your abused hole, spilling his seed inside you, coating your walls.

With one final thrust, Joshua’s grip on you loosened and he had to brace himself against the counter to keep from collapsing on top of you. You panted heavily, cheek pressed against the cool granite of your kitchen counter. You felt his fingers comb through your hair, brushing some of the strands away from your face.

"You okay, baby?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded slowly and wordlessly as you tried to catch your own breath. Joshua leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, lips brushing against your cheek.

You shook your head, exhaling against the granite. "No," you finally whispered. "Do you want me to help you up?"

Joshua always made sure to ask if you wanted or needed assistance and you appreciated that about him. You nodded and whined as he pulled back, his cock slipping from your pussy.

He quickly redressed himself and then carefully helped you stand before guiding you to your bathroom. He helped you sit on the toilet before moving to start the shower. "I could stay and join you," he offered as he tested the temperature of the water.

You smiled and shook your head. "I'll be okay, Joshua," you answered. He closed the curtain and turned to cross the short distance between you, kneeling down and taking your chin gently in his hand. "You sure you don't want me to stay, angel?" he asked, eyes meeting yours in a loving gaze.

You nodded in response. "Yeah," you said with a sigh. "I'll be okay."

Joshua stood up, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Okay, sweetheart," he replied softly. "I'll check on you later."

You thanked him as he stood upright, looking up at him from your seated position. His hand moved to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your skin tenderly. "I love you, Y/N," he said as you reached up to place your hand over his and leaned into his touch.

"I love you too, Joshua."

After stealing a few more kisses, Joshua finally left your apartment and allowed you to undress and step into the scalding shower stream. You sighed loudly as the steaming hot water hit your skin. It helped to work out your sore muscles from being bent over the kitchen counter for a while.

After cleaning yourself off, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself and headed into your kitchen, grabbing your purse and sifting through it until you found your phone. Turning the device on, you saw you had a couple missed texts from Lilah and Joshua.

You answered both before heading into your bedroom area to get changed into some clean clothes. Once dressed you headed back into the living room, about to sit down when there was a knock at your door. You sighed heavily and walked over to check the peephole.

Your neighbor stood on the other side.

You unlocked and opened the door, smirking up at Wonwoo. "Yes, neighbor?" you asked. Wonwoo peered past you into your apartment before looking back at you nervously.

"You alright?" he asked sheepishly. You stared at him blankly, blinking a few times. "Uh, yeah?" you answered. Wonwoo nodded slowly. "I heard you scream earlier and wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied.

Your cheeks burned. "Oh, um," you answered. "Joshua was here earlier," you added softly. Wonwoo's eyes widened and his cheeks turned pink as he realized what he'd overheard.

"Understandable. Okay. Have a good day," he sputtered. "Glad you're okay."

He quickly shuffled back to his apartment, clearly just as embarrassed as you as he shut his door, leaving you to shut your own door and retreat back into your apartment, completely mortified that your neighbor and friend had overheard you and Joshua.

You grabbed your phone and shot a quick text, informing your boyfriend that he wasn't allowed to make you scream at your place anymore. Joshua's reply came minutes later, finding it highly amusing.

Joshy: guess next time I won't cover your mouth 😌 You: 🥲 I'm glad you find this amusing Joshy: I'm just teasing you baby Joshy: but you're feeling okay? You: yes. I'm making some ramen now You: gonna watch a movie Joshy: do you still want me to send you some groceries? You: it's okay. I'll order them later 🥰 thank you though Joshy: of course. Anything for you, my love 💕 You: 💕🥰

You set your phone aside to focus on making your food before settling down on your couch and starting the movie Lilah had recommended to you last week.

It was a decent movie, not the best, but you could see the appeal as you finished your noodles and started working on making a grocery list. You were scribbling a few items down when your phone started buzzing on the coffee table.

You reached forward and grabbed it, recognizing your boss' number and answered it immediately.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Y/N?" Mr. Serizawa's voice came over the speaker. "This is Isei." You sat upright. "Hello, Mr. Serizawa, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm alright. And more importantly, Shinju is doing well," he answered. You sighed in relief. "I'm so glad to hear that," you replied, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder.

"It's been a huge relief," Mr. Seirzawa stated. "But that's not exactly why I called," he continued. "Our grandson is coming back into town next week and we won't be able to pick him up."

You smiled, knowing there this was going. "Any chance you could head to pick him up from the ferry station in the next town over?"

You nodded, mostly to yourself. "Of course," you answered. "I'll pick him up," you answered to his immense relief. "If you want to borrow our car, I can leave the keys at the shop for you."

"That's okay, Mr. Serizawa," you replied. "I'll just borrow one of my parents' cars." You heard him sigh on the other side of the line. "Thank you so much Y/N, you're really helping us out here. I'll call Daniel and let him know you'll be picking him up."

You wrote down the details, making sure to double check the time. "Okay, Mr. Serizawa. I'll call my dad right after this and get one of his cars to use," you said before finally saying goodbye and hanging up the line. You quickly put the details in your phone before pulling up your father’s contact info and took a deep breath.

"Here we go."

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #joshua hong smut #joshua hong x reader #series: under your skin #series: uys

[airbendertendou]

I MISS THE WAY YOU SAY MY NAME! [the way you bend ; the way you break] ♡ murayama yoshiki

synopsis ; running into your ex seems to set off a chain of events — ones he could have prevented.

cw : darker content than usual! kidnapping [not by yama] , yakuza boss!murayama , manipulation , mind-break , probably not as good as you're hoping </3 , exes to lovers if you squint

dedicated to @straysugzhpe happiest of birthdays, bestie! ♡ released this later than i wanted to but i digress <3

song inspo ; the death of peace of mind by bad omens

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

The streets of SWORD weren’t new to you. They were where you grew up ; where you met your first love and he broke your heart. Not purposely, you think ; he told you long distance wouldn’t work, wouldn’t keep you as connected as he needed to be.

Your friends told you it was a bad relationship anyways ; a toxic, nasty thing you were lucky didn’t fester into more. But, you didn’t believe that. Sure, he was protective and always made sure to have one hand holding you at all times. He was never afraid to get bloody hands and bruised knuckles just for you. It was innocent — sweet and reassuring to your pre-adolescent mind. 

Letting out a sigh, you twist and turn in the mirror. The outfit you’d chosen was snug, but still comfortable enough to move in. Taking a break from school would be fun — relaxing. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Coming back to your hometown of SWORD would be fine — there would be a slim chance anyone you grew up with stayed, anyways.

Taking in a deep breath, you shut and lock your door, heading to the Daruma district. The Rascals district was a bit too far from your hotel for your comfort, so you stayed close by. The bass in the club was booming when you arrived, nodding your head to the beat absentmindedly as you were welcomed in. 

Eyes were cemented into you as soon as you stepped through the door. Sliding down your figure and focusing on the curves of your body as you drifted through the club’s crowd. You ignore the stares, moving to the bar to grab a drink to calm your nerves. 

Looking around the club as the bartender made your drink, you frown. This place felt unfamiliar — new ; changed. The decor was modern ; songs playing overhead none you knew ; the people surrounding you even seemed different. Coming back to your hometown was supposed to bring fond memories to the forefront of your mind, not confusing emotions swirled with anxiety. 

Something about the club seemed dangerous. A dark cloud leering over as shady glances are exchanged and people are led to a more private area. The music was too loud to start a conversation, let alone overhear anything you weren’t meant to. 

You were starting to regret this — only a little bit. 

As your drink is slid over, you take a hefty gulp. Only to choke when your eyes connect with a pair you knew too well. Murayama Yoshiki is staring your way, a cigarette perched between his lips as he ignores the people talking to him. When your eyes meet, he tilts his head as if daring you to make your way over. 

You do the opposite ; spinning to face the bar as you down your drink. 

It’s not long before Murayama is sliding in beside you, elbow leaning on the bar as he gazes at you. You avoid his eyes, staring down at your cup and following its condensation trail with your finger. He hums, “you’re back.” 

“Just visiting.” You correct him. Glancing his way, you see his eyes are still wide and pretty as they stare longingly your way. You clear your throat, “I didn’t think you’d still be in town.”

A secret tilts up the right side of his mouth, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Yeah. It wouldn’t be SWORD without a leader.”

“And that leader is you?”

“Who else?” Murayama snorts again — demeaning, it sounds — before knocking back his own drink. He motions to your empty glass before nodding at the bartender for a refill. As the worker gets busy, Murayama focuses his sights back on you — his gaze makes you tremble ; weak the way it had years before. “You jus’ in town to visit? That’s all ; nothin’ else?”

You lick your lips, smiling to the bartender when your new drink is slid your way. “What else would I come back for?”

A harsh, scoff-like laugh leaves his lips. Murayama repeats your question sarcastically, nodding to himself. He sips his drink, looking at you one more time before tapping the bar and standing. “If that’s all, then…”

Just like years before, he was gone without another thought.

Maybe you’d been a little harsher than intended. Seeing your ex again had been a shock, but maybe— no. This is exactly what your friends had told you. He has a way of getting into your head, [name]. You always end up going back.

You twirl your finger around the rim of your glass, frowning as your thoughts overcrowded the music. Was going back such a bad thing, after all? You were happy with Murayama — on the cusp of being in love. He was convinced the distance wouldn’t work — that you’d forget him and find someone better. 

You never did — you never would. 

Gulping back the rest of your drink, you pay and stand to leave. Curls of dark hair catch your attention and solidify your decision. Stalking after Murayama, you struggle to catch up to him with the crowd. The air is brisk and cold as the club’s door opens for you, taking your breath momentarily until you hear his laugh.

Just before you can tap his shoulder, your mouth is covered and everything goes dark.

——♡——

Your hands are tied behind your back, lips taped shut as you gain consciousness. Heaving in a breath through your nose, you blink a few times before realizing you don’t know where you are ; before remembering what happened. Panic crawls up your throat, coming out as whines against the tape. You struggle with the ropes binding you, your wrists growing raw and sore from the material.

The room you’re in is small, no sign of any windows and only a single door. There’s nothing but a lightbulb that hangs above you, illuminating the small area. 

A creak echoes in the room, the door opening slowly to reveal… nothing. No one was standing there. Heaving in a breath in attempt to control your panic, you tug on the ropes a few more times before stopping. Footsteps hit your ears next, tantalizingly slow as they approach the room you’re in. 

A mask — there’s a cracked, porcelain faced mask facing you. You inch back quickly, your back hitting the wall too quick for your liking. They inch closer to you slowly, crouching down when they finally get to where they want to be. Your lip trembles underneath the tape, tears filling up your lashline and dripping down your cheeks.

The masked person wipes them softly before standing and leaving abruptly. 

No windows ; no telling what time or day it was. The person would only come by once, forcing stale bread in your mouth and tipping hot water into your mouth soon after. You always choked on it, the water dribbling down your chin and to your torso, leaving a trail of hot water in its wake. On their fourth visit, they went as far to tug on the rope binding your hands, tutting sarcastically as if they felt sorry for your situation. 

The hotel you were staying in had to have given your room away by now. Your hands were sore, cuticles ripped and bloody from your attempts at leaving. Sniffling, you could feel your face burn with the tears that had made their own tracks on your cheeks. Your mouth was free from the tape now, but still felt chapped and raw.

You hadn’t said a word ; you didn’t dare to.

And then the door slammed open uncharacteristically. You flinched at the noise, eyes staying on the floor to avoid looking at the cracked mask. Heaving breaths echo around the room, stomping feet paralleling the sound as your kidnapper approaches you. Hands grip your upper arms in a tight, bruising hold as they lift you from your sitting position. They’re muttering to themselves, words you don’t bother to hear.

You get to what seems to be a sitting room, the tv playing a missing persons ad of you. Someone knew — they knew you were gone and they were trying to find you. Hope swelled in your chest briefly before dropping. What are the chances they’d find you ; the chances you’d go home alive?

You’re suddenly dropped to the floor as multiple footsteps head your way. The porcelain mask falls to the ground, only a vivid thunk, thunk, thunk! sound hitting the air around you. It stops soon — only after a crunch is heard. Your cheeks are being held by calloused, bloody hands as a voice begs you to focus. You can’t look away ; can only watch as the mask cracks even more.

“Look at me, baby,” it sounds like a whisper. Thumbs tap under your eyes, the hands shake your head gently in order to grab your attention. “It’s me, [name]. Look at me, jus’ me.”

Murayama’s face is the first thing you see. It’s the first thing that greets you outside of a swinging lightbulb ; outside of a porcelain mask ; outside of that dingy, dark room. He rubs your cheeks once more, the stranger’s blood smearing over your tears. “Come back to me, baby.”

“You found me.”

He wants to sob at the sound of your voice. It sounds so broken and cracked ; your voice fighting a whisper and climbing up your throat desperately. There’s a dazed look in your eyes that’s familiar to him ; one you’d get when overwhelmed. 

Your hands are untied — they fall to the ground lifelessly as you continue to stare at Murayama. He gulps, hands dropping from your face to lace through your fingers. “Of course I found you. Told you I would.”

“When we broke up,” you lick your lips. There were people in suits streaming past you both ; hushed and loud conversations passing by non-listening ears. Murayama nods, a soft smile on his face as his thumbs brush your knuckles. “You said we’d get back together when the time is right. I remember.”

“Time’s always been right.” It’s hushed, pressed against your forehead as he helps you stand. Numerous people in suits — the FBI, maybe? — allow you both to pass as if you don’t exist. It’s nighttime as you’re led out of the building you were held in, the sky dark and air cold. Murayama crouches between your legs as he makes you sit. A lady takes your temperature and assesses you medically — but your attention is centered on him. He looks down at your intertwined hands, “jus’ let you have a li’l fun first. That’s all.”

You don’t respond. Eyes fluttering, Murayama pulls you to his chest gently, patting the back of your head. “Rest,” he whispers against the night air. “Rest now, you’re safe with me.”

When you wake up, you’re pressed to a cloud-like bed, the scent of Murayama surrounding you. You groan, your throat still sore as you struggle to swallow. A hand guides you to sit, tenderly rubbing your back as you settle. Blinking to your left, a grinning Murayama greets you. “Mornin’, baby. Got some water here for you,” he helps you hold the glass as you take tentative sips. “Breakfast should be on its way soon.”

“Where am I?”

“My place.” He looks around the room as if it’s brand new to him, too. Clearing his throat, Murayama holds your hand in his. “Need’a let you heal for a while, hm?”

You lick your lips again, feeling a little more awake than you were before. You feel more present ; aware as his hands linger and brush around places bruises had been left. “When can I go home?”

“You are home, baby,” he chuckles. Murayama brings your hand up, kissing your knuckles before resting the back of it against his cheek. “I’ll take care of you now, keep you safe.”

“I need to go home, Yoshiki.”

He lets out another laugh — this one sounds cruel ; judgemental as he shakes his head. “This is home.” His eyelashes slide up as he finally meets your eyes with that darkened gaze you’d grown accustomed to. “Jus’ got you back. I’m not lettin’ you leave again.”

You’re pulled to his chest as every other thought leaves your mind. He was right, after all. Murayama was the one to find you — the one who took you from your kidnapper and kept you safe. Snuggling close to his chest, you fight off the hazy, blurred memories of being in that room.

“Okay,” you breathe. A barely there peck is placed on the center of his chest, right beside his heart. You move your face to his neck, arms wrapping around his torso. “I’ll stay here.”

Murayama grins. His plan worked after all, hm? As soon as he spotted you in the club, he knew you’d be coming home to him, one way or another. Hiring a lowly new guy to take you was easy — he did his job well, even if it ended in his death. But, it was all worth it in the end. You were back with him — back where you belonged.

You’re squished closer to his body with a hum. Murayama kisses the top of your head, “‘course you will. You’ll be safe now, [name]. I’ll make sure of it.”

——♡—— tagging my other h&l babies here! @star2fishmeg @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @strxwberrychocolate @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy if youd like to b tagged / untagged, let me know! ♡ airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#the amount of gifs i went through of him before settling on this one…… #i am : unwell <3 #murayama yoshiki #oya high #high&low the worst #high & low #high & low x reader #high&low x reader #high&low oneshots #high&low imagines #murayama yoshiki x y/n #murayama yoshiki drabbles #murayama yoshiki x reader #yakuza!murayama #yandere!high&low

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

LOYALTY - Dabi x f!reader

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synopsis: After years of being a Villain, you're trying to be good now.

Fucking a Villain isn't the same as being one.

Right?

word count: 7216

warnings: f!Black!reader. Reader is a foreigner and is very chronically ill, using a wheelchair while also having a tube in their throat for respiratory issues. club scene. implications of drinking and off-screen drug use (reader is high and probably drunk throughout the oneshot)

A/N: HI!!!!!!!! =D

I've been trying to write this for a year and finally got it out of me! This is a companion piece to my much longer wip, "Bury My Ashes at Sea" (aka Hex!fic). I have many companion pieces planned for AFTER Hex!fic, that would explore the events of their relationship more, but after seeing these pics of Dabi, this became a very impromptu entry. It was only supposed to be literally just a short scene about watching Dabi's face in the water but it uh...got away from me. I really hope I don't regret posting this first, but I had to get it out.

This is very MC centric, whereas Hex!fic and other companion pieces will be Dabi centric. This is also primarily angsty as you're kinda having an existential crisis!!!!!! I'm not super sure anybody's gonna like this but me, but if you do, I love you and hope you tell me everything you liked in the tags and comments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Enjoy! &lt;3

(header made by the beautiful amazing @xxlvndrxxhzexx )

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You could always be found by the water.

The ocean was obviously your favorite, but any water would do. It called to you, no matter where it was. No matter where you were. Even if the closest thing you had was a bathtub, sometimes you just had to soak. Life felt worse if you didn’t. Your family used to joke that it was supposed to be your Quirk—it just got lost in the mail somewhere, or stuck in your already clusterfucked excuse for DNA.

It’s how they came up with the name Siren.

But you didn’t use that name anymore.

You were trying to be good now.

The music swelled and thumped in your chest, all while you sipped your drink through a straw in the corner, unfocused and unfazed. As soon as you heard there was a pool at this place, it was constantly tugging at the back of your head. You wandered around the party, head buzzing with a mixture of substances and a booming baseline, and still somehow ended up within view of the back door. No matter where you went, your eyes still glanced to the alluring outside. Maybe it was the drugs, but the longer you stayed here, the urge for the water was becoming an almost desperate pull. Like for some reason you were drowning on air. Eventually, you caved and decided to find your date before bailing. You clicked your teeth a few times and the fox-like creature standing guard beside you followed close to your wheels.

Apollon was a Quirk Pet, named so because of his psychokinetic Quirk. When you insisted on moving to Japan of all places—where they had enemies even more troublesome than the constant mass of Heroes everywhere—and refused to take any of your family or their allies, refused to use your support devices anymore, refused anything more from your Villain life than the house and the store they gave you, this was was your adoptive moms’ final attempt at a safety net for you.

At first you resisted—Quirk Pets were a relatively new (and sometimes dubiously bred) accessory for the Quirkless elite or their children to feel special like the rest of society, and that kind of flash didn’t exactly fit your attempt at a normal civilian lifestyle. The only people that could afford one of those things were high-profile Villains and crooked billionaires. But since your usual mode of assistance at the time was even less fit for civilian life, and you sure as hell weren’t taking a bunch of nursing staff, you relented. Of course, it didn’t take you long to fall in love with the little bastard.

It was at least a good signal for the more seasoned Villains to know you were someone somehow. You were seen enough around these spots now that they mostly left you alone, lumping you in with the rest of the regular slumming civs—Villain arm candy, nightly entertainment—which you supposed was what you technically were now. Apollon was never a part of your Villain life, so while you were conflictingly more comfortable in seedier places like this, he was on edge, showing his teeth at anyone who got too close.

Which, despite sleeping with him for a while now, still included Dabi.

It was a casual arrangement between the two of you. Sometimes you asked, sometimes he did. Tonight was him. Need my girl for something, the text read. You could never refuse when he called you that. He needed a way to get into this party—for recruitment purposes, you guessed—and a pretty little thing like you could get an invite with a plus one a lot easier than he could. It’s about the only time he ever took you out for anything other than crashing at your place. For someone who called herself retired and put an ocean between herself and her old life for a reason, you should’ve said no. But without the issue of his dealings—which technically he did not tell you about, per your relationship rules, and you were not participating in whatsoever— a party was a party. You worked hard. You were trying to be good now. Other civs were here, and a lot more often than you were. If they were still allowed their normie cards, then there wasn’t any reason you couldn’t get down and dirty every once in a while without having an existential crisis over it.

…As long as by ‘Once in Awhile’, you meant ‘Any Time He Gave You An Excuse’.

The first few times you tagged along to one of these events, it was typical for nosey audiences to be watching the two of you. Now it was only the has-beens and wannabes that still bothered you. You think you hated Villains with lingering Hero complexes more than overbearing civilians. At least you expected the latter to think you were less than them.

Do you know who that is? They’d corner you with hushed voices when Dabi was out of ear-shot, their tone implying anything other than conscious agency from the crippled foreigner.

The pope. What do you fucking think?

You’d want to shout Do you know who I am? Because the covered tattoo on your shoulder would shut them up real quick. But the answer would be, no.

They didn’t know who you were. That was the point. You didn’t talk about that on purpose.

Siren didn’t exist anymore.

You were trying to be good.

Lucky you, it didn’t take much longer to find Dabi. Good news: the VIP space was very close to the poolside door. Bad news: Based on his body language, you weren’t leaving any time soon. Whatever he was doing, it was getting irritating. He had the same stoic posture as usual, just with an impatiently tapping foot. And he wasn’t with any of the other thugs you saw him with earlier, the ones you guessed he was trying to win over. They were a lot more uppity than the people he usually dealt with, way too high-brow and established to risk dealing with an upstart like the League. You could’ve spared him the time and energy from the second you saw them talking—they were not League fans. Their tune was all wrong. And even if they were, they were far from meeting the type of standards a group like the League would be looking for.

Not that you knew what those standards were, of course. You didn’t ask and you insisted that you didn’t wanna know. No details, no involvement—those were the conditions you set. It was just a guess, guessing didn’t count. All you were here for was the drugs, the drinks, and the eventual sex. You were trying to be good now.

You took another drink.

Zzt zzt.

The sound of your phone snapped you out of your spiraling.

{if I wanted some stalker freak staring at me I would’ve brought toga.}

Dabi took a swig of his drink while his phone rested in his freehand. He didn’t acknowledge you in any other way.

Finally, you smiled.

{It’s not my fault. Stop being the prettiest boy in the room~}

You could see him roll his eyes from here.

Dabi had been your favorite thing to watch since you met him. Watching, listening, whatever you wanted to call it. It was a habit of yours that you had no intention on breaking—your ever-growing excuse to keep Siren closer to the surface than you should.

All the world was a stage and every human had a harmony to perform, and it used to be your job to chart out the melodies. It was the one and only skill you had over your family. You were almost certain it played a large part in your moms’ decision to take you in. It was always something you could do—you listened to your targets until you memorized every beat. Then you added your voice. Timing your words to the rhythm of their heartbeat, adapting to the tempo of their bones, matching the key of their Quirk with perfect pitch. A single missed step or chord out of place and you noticed like blood in the water. They’d be so enthralled with the perfect duet that they never noticed your voice leading the song. They never noticed that it was your show now and they were the mimicking puppet, blissfully following you all the way to the inevitable end at the bottom of your family’s shark-infested ocean.

Dabi was no different. Granted, you weren’t trying to kill or extort him, and his melody was a lot harder to tape down than others, you’d give him that. To put it bluntly, it was unpleasant. Repellent was an even better word. It sounded wrong, cacophonous. Like…two different songs layered on top of each other and fighting for the lead. Far too bright and intense and hot to listen for long. But somehow, he took the stage and paired the noise with an effortless stride. His steps were controlled, steady. So deceptively quiet you almost didn’t notice him the first time he was in your store. You watched him turn the madness into the most elegant choreography you’d ever seen. A swan on the water.

If it was anyone else, you would’ve minded your business. But maybe you’d been good for so long that now, you were just bored enough Siren couldn’t resist the challenge. Maybe it wasn’t anything to do with his song, but how you were so homesick you couldn’t ignore someone who felt so familiar, so much like the walking ghosts you were used to. Either way, you hadn’t stopped watching him since.

Although the longer this went on, the more it felt like you were the one under the spell.

Dabi didn’t entertain you with a further response, instead downing the rest of his drink. The sloshing liquid made you feel like you were swaying with it. It felt like you were being rocked by the waves. You closed your eyes again. Waves made you think of swimming, and swimming made you think of the pool. You turned your gaze to the outside to catch a glimpse of the water, but all you could see was the top of a table’s umbrella.

It took about five more seconds for you to solidify your decision.

[Come outside with me] You text Dabi quickly but you were already moving toward the door.

[no. why.]

[Want the water]

[course you do.]

[=(((((( Don’t be mean. If they’re gonna keep you waiting around, you might as well wait with me.]

Again, he didn’t respond. You pouted at your phone. Unfortunately, you were just high enough to try your luck a little further.

[Pretty please? I want you to sit with me.]

He exhaled, his shoulders twitching just a bit more than they should. A knowing grin grew on your face. Exactly what you were looking for. You studied his steps. You charted impossible melodies. You hummed along with harmonies that made your mouth burn until finally, you followed the performance. You could keep up with him. After months of watching his flawless routine, there was only ever one misstep. The only note you had on him.

I want you.

Didn’t matter when, how, or why you said it. Whenever you told him you wanted him, there was always a sudden stutter in his rhythm. Expertly corrected, blink and you’d miss it. Every performer knew that the audience only recognized mistakes if you told them, and Dabi was nothing short of a professional. You thought that was why he was so good at this. No one ever watched long enough to know the difference.

But you did.

You could dance and sing with the boy in the water all you wanted, but once he bleeds you’ll remember you have fangs.

You memorized the note and sang it again. And again. You watched him trip on the sound of your words until your mouth watered. Curiosity turned predatory—the part of Siren you couldn’t kill. As soon as you found that perfect note of desire, you couldn't help but sing encore after encore until they drowned in it. It was a compulsion. You tried variations. Different tempos, different octaves. You swished the sound around in your mouth and probed your tongue along its edges like a missing tooth. Strangely, it tasted cold. You wondered if that was the appeal, if every refrain was like a single drop of rain on him.

I want you to listen to this with me! I think you’ll like it. (Fingers twitch.) When are you coming back? I want to see you. (Throat clears.) Do you like sweets? I want to make something for you! (Rubs his neck.) I want you to stay. (Jaw tightens.) Want you to kiss me. Want you to touch me. Want you, right there, please, please, please. (A hitched breath.) (A harder kiss.) (A choked moan.)

But he never gave you more than a flinch. Never more than a glance at the waves before he corrected. It drove you a little nuts. You wanted to see him fall. You wanted to pull him under. How long would you need to hold the note to break his performance? How many times did he need to hear your song before he loved your voice more than air? Dabi wouldn’t even tell you his name. He couldn’t be mad you were like this. It was like dangling himself on a hook and expecting you not to bite.

You were trying to be good, but you can't change your nature.

When he still didn’t give you a response, you sighed—dramatically enough that he could see your shoulders lift and fall with the motion—but didn’t bother pestering him further. There was a fine line between playful banter and being a pest when it came to Dabi, and you were getting quite proud of yourself for figuring out how to blur the boundaries, just enough to get under his skin in a good way. If anything, it made the sex better.

Instead, you clicked your teeth a few times for Apollon to follow you and help you out the door. The second the night air hit your face, you exhaled. You hadn’t realized how stifled you felt inside. Out here, everything was so still. You stopped moving and inhaled the moonlight. The silvery threads were cool and calming against your skin. It was like you stepped into the safety of a liminal space, outside of time, outside of the rest of the world. Only the dampened boom of the music to remind you of the real world waiting behind you.

When you opened your eyes again, the glow of the pool was waving along any surface it could reach. It kissed you with the same light, calling you. Apollon perched himself on the poolside table closest to you as you moved closer to the water. You kept moving until you reached the light, until the purples and blues lighting up the water rippled along your face. The closer you got, the more urgent it felt. Like something was lurking behind you and this was the only sanctuary.

There was a reason humans always searched for water to repent.

You snapped out of it when Apollon chirped with concern. He watched you from on top of the table, curled into a comfortable ball. Any closer and you would’ve sunk like a rock.

“Oh, stop. You’re not gonna let me fall in.” You laughed it off. Apollon responded best in English, by design. A small security measure to make sure he only responded to you. Not that he didn’t ignore everyone else anyway.

You pointed at your high heels. “Help me take these off.”

He made another quiet noise to let you know his hesitance, but did what you asked. Your heels floated from your feet first, then with another point, you floated down to the edge of the pool. Apollon kept pressure on your spine so you could sit up properly—you were a ragdoll outside of your wheelchair, even on a sober night. This way, you could dangle your feet in the pool.

You were weightless like this. It was the only time you could really move so easily. You didn’t even mind the freezing water. The cold forced you to take in a slow breath, and it was like the first breath you’ve taken all night. It cleared up your head a little, drifted you back to the floating cloud of your high. You closed your eyes and let yourself sway to the music. It changed to a song you knew, warped by the DJ to be slower and pitched down. It sounded distant and muffled, like you were listening underwater.

(“It’s a secret society. All we ask is trust. All we got is us…”)

You hummed along under your breath and lost yourself in the ripples of the water. The coolness kept the doubt away, so much so that you nearly forgot what made you so desperate to come outside in the first place.

And then you noticed the moon.

Or the lack thereof, rather. A waning crescent. The reflection glistened on top of the neon glow of the pool. A tiny sliver of light, uselessly persisting against its shadowy fate, even its reflection nearly swallowed by the dancing blue of the water. Your stomach twisted at the sight. Once again, you were suffocating. Peace evaporated just as soon as it arrived. Now the music only reminded you of what you were running from. The walls were closing in on you, just like that moon. It was only something you could avoid for so long.

You were trying to be good, but you can’t change fate. (”Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty…”)

If you want out, then be out. Your eldest sister’s voice echoed over the thumping bass in your head, the last thing she said to you after finding out about your recent flirting with Villainy. Her disappointed tone still shivered hollow in your bones. You could always tell when it was her talking and not the spirits using her Channeling Quirk—while they always twisted her features into the manic bloodthirst most were familiar with, she, herself, only ever looked tired. You haven’t seen or heard from her since, but her voice still haunted you like one of her ghosts. Looming in the shadows, like that moon’s underbelly, chastising your indecision.

Even now, Apollon could help you swim if you wanted. Would keep the water from getting into the tube in your throat. But this is all you do. It was the same problem no matter where you ran.

You can never commit.

("Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty…")

“What the hell are you doing?”

You jumped, once again getting snapped out of your spiraling. You tilted your head all the way back, Apollon supporting your movements but not enough to let you fall. Dabi was near the door, a cigarette dancing between his fingers now instead of a drink. His delicate face was scrunched up with a rare expressive look.

“There he is!” You smiled, bright and inebriated. There was a sigh of relief in your voice. Your favorite distraction, always in the nick of time. “I knew you’d miss me. Or were you just bored?”

“Wanted a smoke.” He mumbled around the stick now pressed between his lips, his expression returned to its usual sour scowl. He narrowed his eyes at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Just needed some air,” you said, swallowing the automatic ‘nothing’ and opting for more believable half-honesty. Dabi didn’t tell you his full truth, and right now you weren't interested in telling him yours. “Think I’m getting a bad trip. Got really paranoid all of a sudden.”

“Don’t get so fucked up I gotta deal with you crashin' later. ‘M not your babysitter.”

“Oh, such a Gentleman.”

Without another word, he cupped his hands around the cigarette, blue light sparking it to life. You watched him blow out a stream of smoke, staying downwind from you. He didn’t say anything more, so you signaled Apollon to sit you back up and returned to kicking at the water.

As soon as you weren't looking, you felt the blue embers of his gaze heating up your back again. You pretend you didn’t notice, only because you knew it drove him nuts. Another one of his rare tells. Dabi hated talking, but if he thought you were ignoring him you could nearly count to a beat when he’d speak again.

1. 2. 1-2-3-4—

Exhale.

“You fall into that, m’not fishin’ you out.”

You smiled to yourself. (”I’m always on your mind…”)

“That’s fine. I got Pollo.” You said with a shrug. You played your part well. Nonchalant and coy. You thought he liked it better when you pretended not to know what he wanted.

Apollon chirped smugly and Dabi scoffed again. You still weren't looking at him. Eventually, you heard him stomp out his cig, followed by his heavy footsteps. You feel the heat from his body before anything else. He sat behind you, just close enough to place his hands around your hips, but Apollon growled before he could fully reach you. A psychic pulse kept his hands from getting any closer, like a sudden field of gravity.

“Call off your damn beast,” Dabi snapped. Your snickering only made him more irritated.

“Pollo, be nice. Let him go.”

Another disapproving growl. He did what you asked, but laid down and kept an unflinching gaze on Dabi, waving his tail in the air to sense any changes before they happened. There was a grumble from Dabi you couldn’t make out, then his hands were finally on you. Warmer than you usually liked, but not completely uncomfortable. He was irritated. Maybe tired too.

“You’re freezing,” he said. His grip briefly tightened on you again, tugging you a little closer to him and out of the water before you placed your hands on his to stop him. The idea of leaving the water still made your stomach drop.

“Aww. You care about me.”

His voice sharpened. “You’re not much use to me sick, are you?”

“Guess not.” When he bristled at your matching sarcasm, you laughed under your breath. “So, I take it by your current winning attitude that recruitment isn’t going well?”

“Thought you didn’t wanna know the details?”

“It doesn’t count if I can guess.” You pouted. “But you’re right, you don’t have to tell me if—”

“No. It’s not going well,” Dabi snapped. Usually he played along a little longer. He must've been more tired than you thought.

He exhaled deeply, then you felt his forehead resting against your back. He grumbled against your skin.

“Waste of my fuckin’ time. Nothin’ but tasteless trash, as usual.”

“Don’t you usually kill them when they’re like that?” You started rubbing your thumb along the top of his hand, trying to aid the soothing process.

“Gotta squeeze some money out of ‘em first.”

“Oh? The League’s broke?” You said. “I can pack up some leftover food from the store if you need it.”

“Typically humans need more than sweets to live.”

“Damn, that’s wild. But see, there’s also this thing called takeout, and I have like, a real job, so I can exchange money for goods and services.”

“Doesn’t sound very uninvolved to me.”

You took back what you said—he was fine. You could feel his petty little smirk on your back. The banter was probably helping him recover, the bastard.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before continuing. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, doll. Haven’t starved yet, not gonna start now. Just got a few more negotiations before I can seal the deal.”

“Negotiations?” You quirked a skeptical eyebrow at him. “You know that ‘trash’ is planning on jumping you later, right?”

“Aw, you care about me.”

You smiled back, poisonously sweet. “Not very useful to me dead, are you?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t make much of a difference. I’m already dead.”

This time it was you that bristled at his answer.

He said it on purpose. You could feel the smirk still there. On a normal night, it would only be mildly irritating. You’d ignore it, or sidestep. He’d commented about being dead since you’ve known him—it was such a common statement out of his mouth that you wondered if he was trying to remind you or himself. Still, you always flinched. It never mattered that you knew what he was doing, that you heard the intentionally dropped beat in the performance every time, you always fell for the bait. He loved reminding you that it wasn't just you.

He had your number too.

“You know I don’t think that’s funny.” Your voice was uncharacteristically quiet. If he noticed, he ignored it.

“Wasn’t joking.”

Again, he was just as bad as you. Pressing the only button he knew just to hear how your voice stalled.

Just to see for a fact that he affected you.

Salt drenched your tongue and turned your voice bitter. It was to the point where you didn’t trust the sound it'd make if you spoke, so you swallowed it down to the best of your ability and focused back on the water. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing your sour notes. It was what he wanted after all. When Dabi was mean, his song turned cold. Feral flames swapped for a freezing arctic. It was a lot more effective on you. You could be as good as you wanted, but the ocean’s salt would always linger on your skin, and mixing salt with ice seared just like a flame.

Both of you were too stubborn to get off the stage first, so it was a frequent competition to see who would win: your drive to pull him under or his drive to push you away and prove himself right.

There was blood in the water and demons were just as hungry as sirens.

There was a long, tense silence between the two of you. Ignoring him worked just as well as anything you’d say or do. You’d silently steep in the toxic waves and poison you both before you gave in. But soon, you felt his mouth moving against your back. Slow, soft. Absent, even. It was something to do with his mouth other than suck on a cig, but most importantly it was something you couldn’t ignore. Even if you wouldn't talk to him, his presence was still undeniable.

For someone who insisted he was dead, he sure did hate when people acted like he wasn’t around.

He gradually inched up to your shoulder, then your neck. His body temperature slowly cooled to the usual warmth you sunk into. You hated how nice this was when you were still so irritated. Even with the tiniest touch, his heat spread through the branches of your veins like a good high. Fireworks bursting in slow motion. Champagne bubbles floating to the top until your head was swimming again. With your lack of muscle, it was hard as hell to gain warmth and just as easy to lose it. Dabi made you so spoiled. A few hours in his presence and you forgot how cold the rest of the world was without him. Even the water seemed warmer. You closed your eyes and sighed quietly. The sound morphed into a quiet hum under your breath.

“I noticed, by the way.”

Dabi’s voice interrupted the syrupy sound of your humming and pulled you back to your irritation. At some point, you leaned over for him to get a better angle at your neck. His mouth moved with a little more intention now, possession tinging his lips. There was no way you were going back inside without a few new marks to show for it. Dabi’s apologies were never spoken, only delivered in deeper kisses, lighter touches, softer words. Whatever he can to make you feel good.

“What?” Your voice still came out as a cross murmur.

“The thugs that are gonna jump me? I noticed,” he said. “Kill ‘em later. After I get you home.”

The word made you tense again. He said it so goddamn casually. He started slipping every now and then and calling your place ‘home’. You didn’t think it started intentionally, but as soon as he heard your voice shake in response, it was too late. It didn’t take long for an accident to turn into a test. Now he did it at least once every time you saw him. More so if he thought he made you legitimately upset. Whenever he spoke it, there was always a question hidden in the off beat. A whisper, something cold again. Like a toe in the water to make sure you really wouldn’t bite. (”Loyalty, Loyalty, Loyalty…”)

Normally, you would take the time to sing around his trap and answer correctly, dodging anything that would be too encouraging (or you’d scare him off) without being too discouraging (or you’d never hear that chilled vulnerability again). But tonight, it was especially irritating. That little timid voice still asking if it’s safe, like you would leave him for this littlest thing. Like you were the flight risk. Like he wasn’t the one literally reminding you that he would never stay. Nothing you want would ever stay. No matter how far you ran, no matter how good you pretended to be, you were doomed to watch it die and fade away, just like that moon.

How dare he call your place home when the only space he planned on claiming as his was six feet under.

You finally gave in and let the salt flavor your tongue. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t fuck corpses.”

“Oh? Since when?”

“Since always, jackass.”

There was a brief pause before he shrugged again. ”Guess you can go home then.”

“Dabi.”

He laughed. A quiet, wheezy chuckle that paired perfectly with his smirk. It made an irritatingly pleasant shiver run along your thighs, even now. He returned his mouth below your ear and you let him.

“There’s my girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You scowled, but still decided to signal Apollon to let you slouch back into him. “Keep ruining my buzz like this and you won’t have to worry about the thugs. I’ll kill you myself.”

Another whispered sound of smug amusement brushed against your hair. “I’d let you try.”

“How romantic.”

The lazy rhythm of Dabi’s lips was replaced by the slow drag of his fingertips along your arm. Compared to the rest of him, his scarless fingers felt like silk. You wiggled yourself closer so your head was underneath his chin. You were barely in the water anymore. He was sneaky, tangling you further into the seductive heat of his body with every inch you relinquished to him from Apollon. It looked as cozy as it felt, you were sure.

But cozy or not, even this was calculated. You almost always did this after he said those stupid comments about dying or already being dead. Obviously he wasn’t. But he said it with such conviction, and the sound of his voice was never the right pitch for sarcasm or jokes. Despite what you could clearly see with your eyes, it always made you so anxious. So, in your cuddled position, you angled a little so your ear was against his chest, and you listened. It probably would’ve been even more subtle to check his pulse points, but Dabi’s wrists were covered in too much scar tissue for you to ever get a good reading. Instead, you could always hear it thudding along the healthy strip of his chest. After a few seconds, you would pull out your phone and use it to count.

It was always still beating. Maybe a little faster than it should be from all the stress he put his body under, but still beating. Still breathing. Still here.

Dying, maybe. But not dead.

You were very aware it was an important difference.

Once upon a time, it was just another part of the deal. Dabi was clearly hellbent on checking out, but that terminality was one of the main appeals. You knew what Villains were like. He was just as temporary as you were. This way, you could both get your kicks, you could get the teetering threat of relapse out of your system, and there wouldn’t be any reason for attachments when you both knew exactly what you were getting into. Limited time was built in the design. Quick, easy, painless.

You wonder if he used the same justifications for you in the beginning.

You wonder if it was backfiring for him the same way.

It was why you left. You spent your whole life being told and expecting that you would be the buried, not the burier. It was the bond your whole villainy was based off of. Everyone was dying here. You were all on a train to Hell one way or another. It didn’t matter how or why. You all had the same destination, the same rage, the same brutal apathy. Death was inevitable, and the only thing that mattered was making sure every Hero fuck that signed your sentence felt it when you finally reached that stop. It was a lot less scary when you had people to laugh about it with. It was spoken like a badge of honor. Yeah, the world wants me dead too. Come on in.

And then you woke up one day with the audacity to want to live. (”I’m hangin’ on the fence again…”)

The realization gnawed at you with panicked desperation. You looked around and discovered that everyone you loved was dying much faster than you, killing themselves in a blaze of glory. This wasn’t a party, it was a suicide pact. None of the civs or the Heroes tried to intervene because this was the point—the job was being done for them. The only way to win the game was to not play at all. Get to the exit. Live.

But it was what the Heroes never understood, and something you should’ve known better.

Everyone else always knew where the exit was.

It was always there, in blinking neon, unlocked and unguarded. Anyone could leave whenever they wanted. It’s why no one tried to stop you. This was what your Moms did, after all, since they retired from their own battle wounds—worked in the shadows, helped those who wanted out disappear without a trace, supported those who didn’t, take in the unwanted in-betweens until they could make a choice. Like you. Like your family. Like your sister.

Everyone knew they were free to go, but there was never anything to save.

And this is what Heroes would never understand. Why things would never get better until the question was addressed. They could point out the exit sign all they wanted, try to heroically lead them into a bright new future, but every Villain would always ask the same thing:

Why?

You didn’t think you’d be waiting here, dancing with the burning boy on the train tracks, if you ever found a good answer.

(”10-4, no switchin’ sides…”)

You looked up at him without moving your head. His eyes were fixed on the still water with an empty gaze. He was somewhere far away, farther than you could reach. Sometimes Dabi looked so goddamn fragile you thought you’d split at the seams, like him. The blue reflection from the water danced along his skin like his flames, and he looked so beautiful in your element that your chest ached at the unfairness of it all. You never wanted a Quirk more in your life. You wanted to be able to hum and wrap his wounds in water. Put the pain that was so loudly screaming out of his skin to rest with soft, cool lullabies. Whisper a single sound and keep him here with you a little longer.

You insisted that you didn’t want to be involved, but you started keeping ice packs and bandages tucked away for him, in the same spot as the black market quirk suppressants you still keep for your sister, just in case. The occult and mysticism books you borrowed about restless ghosts were piled with the new highlighted articles about burn wounds. You memorized the numbers of Dabi’s burner phones like everyone in your family, and you couldn’t help clocking the twitches and tells of the men he talks to like you were still a good spy for the cause. You let him stay in your house, your bed.

You let him hear you sing. (”Ain’t no other love like the one I know…”)

Sometimes, on the rare occasions you woke up before him, and he was still sleeping softly next to you, you thought about telling Apollon to bring you the syringe in the cupboard. They only worked for about two hours on your sister anymore, but you were sure Dabi wouldn’t have as much of a tolerance. You could keep him from going back out there. Without a Quirk, Apollon could easily keep him from running away or trying to fight. He would be safe, and you could finally, finally do something other than watch while those you loved destroyed themselves. There was no need to go back inside. It’s safer in the water. Stay, stay, stay.

But you can never commit.

You were trying to be good.

The song was long over but it still played in your head. (”Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty”)

It haunted you with a demand you couldn’t run from. (”Tell me who you’re loyal to”) You said you wanted to move far away from your old life, but you made sure that your store was far on the outskirts of town, off the path for Heroes, easily accessible for any undesirables that might need some bread or sweets, or a place to warm up…or flowers for their mom. You said you didn’t want to be a Villain anymore, but you wouldn’t serve licensed Heroes.

(”I said, tell me who you’re loyal to”) You refused to use your support items, but the metal rings around your fingers never felt as heavy as when you were sitting on the train, listening to the civs gush about Heroes. You were trying to be good, but you listened to them cheer and celebrate the capture of the ones like you—the people you love (“Does it start with your woman or your man?”)—and your perfect pitch stalls. It was the one note you couldn't hit. They made you want to honey your voice like you used to, lead them along like oblivious puppets. Warp the role of non-threatening into a eulogy for the ones that forced it on you, the last sound they ever heard before the snarls of your family’s bloodthirsty Quirks. (“Does it end with your family and friends?”)

But then you remember what happened last time. The blood. The screaming. Something suffocating on itself. It was why you left, wasn’t it? You knew better. There was only one thing this life could give you. You were cursed just like that moon. At some point, there would be no more delaying it. It felt right, it felt like home, but when you woke in the morning there was no one left but you.

So in the end, you always kept your mouth clenched shut.

You were trying to be good.

(”Are you loyal to yourself in advance?”)

“Dabi.” You spoke with your own eyes on the water, fixated on the rippling moon. “Can we go?”

“Now?”

You nodded. There was a sudden spark of urgency inside you. You couldn’t stand to be in this place for another second. You were trying to be good now. There was a house waiting for you. For him. You didn't have to go back in there. You could lock yourselves behind those doors and sing until he didn’t remember there was a life before your voice, until his touch burned the blood from your skin and finally made you clean again. You would cling to what you loved until you wasted away or they did, and not a second sooner.

You tilted your head to kiss Dabi’s neck. Just a single, soft smooch. You knew he couldn’t feel it there, but you always did it anyway, leaving a bright red lipstick mark as proof. Mine. If you weren't allowed anything else, this counted as something.

“Want you.” You looked up at him from the crook of his neck. It was the truest thing you said all night. “Please?”

He stared at you. The full force of his sapphire eyes was disarming, like his own siren charm. You could tell that he was studying your face for something. Like he knew there was more to your shifting mood tonight than a bad trip. There was something hidden in your notes—something silent, something off. But you wouldn’t let him hear it. He wouldn’t even tell you his name. He didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to tell him.

“Yeah. Alright.” His stare never wavered, like he was still focused on listening. But when you still wouldn’t give him what he was searching for, he started to move. “They should be back by now.”

He whistled at Apollon and nodded his head toward you. For as much as they didn’t like each other, they’d gotten into a groove. Moving in time with their own routine, at least when it came to you. It was a seamless transition—you barely had the chance to wobble before the weightless feeling of your pet’s Quirk replaced his embrace.

But as soon as Dabi left, you shuttered. It was a jarring shock. The cold seeped into your bones until your limbs were heavy with ice. You cussed with chattering teeth. Apollon floated you back in your chair quick enough, but the cold overshadowed everything. It caused time to start again. How long had you been out here? When did the song change? You didn’t recognize it. The bass thumped in your chest to an ominous rhythm that felt more like a hungry threat. The growl of the inevitable before it swallowed you whole. It was enough to snuff out what little sparks of resistance you were gaining. Instead, they were replaced with a desperate need. You kept saying you didn’t want to be involved, but what good was abstinence when this was your reward? The water kept you safe and secure, but what was the point of safety without warmth?

You were trying to be good, but you were so, so cold.

“You comin’?” Dabi turned to your shivering form. You heard the ghostly echo of a familiar song, refusing to die, whispering with his waiting steps and wrenching itself in the center of your ribs.

(”All I want is, all I want is…”)

“Yeah.” Your voice is a resignation. Out of the cold, but into the dark.

At least he’s a light.

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #sometimes I do this thing with words #dabi!oneshot #Loyalty oneshot #I CAN FINALLY DROP THE TITLE YAYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #I'm so nervous about posting this lol #Youtube

[sixth-gun-13]

I'm not sure if anyone would see this or even care but my main account is Shihohinmakai it shares the same header photo as this account now.but I mentioned it because I don't think I can receive messages on this page.

I'm not a big part of the fandom but if anyone sees this I'm hoping to get help grabbing a copy of the new Live that just dropped, maybe the blu ray and the buttons I saw but I'm not greedy

I need a final piece with all 5 of them

I'm not a member of the fan club and I barely have enough money to live but if someone can be like here's a link to where you can buy it easily in America it would be very helpful I get paid Thursday and honestly I don't need take out this month

I can't believe he's gone and I'm sobbing at work

All I need is a link cause I doubt I can afford someone picking it up for me then shipping it privately but I would also try for that too

This is pathetic

I will delete soon I think

#gazette #the gazette #reita eternal member #reita the gazette #reita #god im heartbroken

[your-world-with-nct]

polaroid love | njm (3)

THREE — thinking about you

<- BACK | MENU | NEXT ->

PAIRING | na jaemin x female reader (ft. nct dream + enhypen 02z)

GENRE | fluff, angst, college au

WARNINGS | intended lowercase, cursing, alcohol consumption

WORD COUNT | 3.8k

SUMMARY | inspired by enhypen’s ‘polaroid love’ — in his twenty-two years of living, na jaemin has never been in a proper relationship. after witnessing his best friends go through their fair share of complicated, devastating heartbreaks, jaemin decided he was better off investing his time and effort into his studies, rather than wasting his time falling in love. years of having fleeting crushes and being countlessly confessed to passed by and not a single person could tempt jaemin into the world of love. that is, until, he meets someone that he can’t get out of his head no matter how long he stares at his anatomy textbooks. someone that reminds him of the hopeless romantic he once was. someone that can show him that love doesn’t have to be so complicated to succeed.

FIC PLAYLIST LINK | click here to enhance your reading experience!

HEADER KEY | • REC -> a character’s point of view | ■ GALLERY -> a flashback from that character’s point of view

A/N | sorry for being so inactive lately! i’ve been busy preparing for uni and it was actually my first night last night 🙈 hope you guys enjoy this new chapter and feedback is always appreciated <3

Y/N CAM • REC

you stared at jake in silence, watching as he fiddled with his chopsticks whilst waiting for the food to come, “jakey?”

“hmm?” he answered, eyes fixed on the small tower he was making by stacking tiny, balled-up pieces of a napkin.

“you okay?” you asked, your voice laced with concern, “you didn’t even squeal when you saw the turtle-shell grill, is everything alright?”

jake let out a quiet giggle at your observation, putting his chopsticks down and abandoning his napkin tower, “yeah, everything’s fine, i’m just… tired.”

you raised a brow, not completely convinced by his answer. reaching across the table, you took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand, “hey, you know you can tell me when something’s bothering you, right? i’m not gonna force you to say anything if you don’t want to, but i’m here to listen, okay? i don’t like seeing you upset, what do i have to do to put a smile on your face, hm?”

you noticed jake’s lips curve upwards at your words, but the smile had yet to reach his eyes. he squeezed your hand and met your gaze, “thank you, y/n, really, but i promise i’m okay. i’ve just… had a long day, those morning classes are such a pain in the ass. ugh, i wish i’d taken up your coffee offer before.”

you still weren’t a hundred percent reassured by his answer, but you decided it was best not to push him for the truth. instead, you settled with the reply he gave, “ahh, okay, i’m glad nothing’s bothering you, but i’m still shocked you said no to free coffee.”

“i don’t know what got into me, i’ll be honest,” jake shrugged, retracting his hand from yours and running it through his hair.

“well, don’t you worry, i’ll buy you some coffee next time you take me to photography club,” you bit your lip, trying to hide your growing smile at the thought of seeing a certain someone again.

“next time? you wanna come next time?” jake cocked his head to the side, his face reminiscent of a confused puppy, “what’s with the sudden interest? don’t tell me you expect free food in return for helping me, you know i don’t have the funds for that!”

“actually…” you paused, inwardly debating whether to tell your best friend or not. “okay, can i tell you something and can you promise not to judge me? or tell anyone else?”

“judge you? i mean… depends how bad it is.”

“jake, i’m serious!”

“okay, okay, i promise! now, what is it, my dear?” he said, leaning in and placing a sympathetic hand on yours.

you pulled your hand out from under his, lightly smacking it, “i told you, you’ve gotta stop calling me that in public, people are gonna think we’re dating.”

jake shrugged, “so? you’re the one who held my hand before, hypocrite.”

the exaggerated pout on his face told you that he wasn’t being serious, but you didn’t want him to think that you were joking, “okay, that’s fair, but… it just— it can scare guys away! which i don’t have a problem with when it gets creeps to back off, but sometimes there are guys that i don’t want to scare off, y’know?”

your gaze trailed down to the grill on the table, unable to make eye contact with your best friend knowing your words were quite harsh. a few seconds went by with no reaction or reply from him, and although it seemed like you were too late, you scrambled to soften the blow.

“i-i’m not saying you have to stop doing those things, i still like the affection and the cute names but, maybe, i don’t know, you could save that for when we’re, uh, not in such a public place?”

“who is it?” jake asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“wh-what do you— who… what?”

“hey, first things first, i’m not upset. if saving that stuff for when it’s just us or just friends is what you’re comfortable with, then ‘course i don’t mind doing that,” he shifted to lean his elbow on the table, relaxing his stance in hopes of relaxing you.

“what i meant was, well, i know you, y/n, and there must be a specific guy you don’t want scaring off, and, ah! that must be the ‘thing’ you were gonna tell me about, that’s why you didn’t want me to judge you or tell anyone. am i right or am i right?”

you blinked once, twice, in disbelief that jake was able to read you so well—it was a blessing and a curse. you opened and closed your mouth to speak, but nothing was coming out, earning you a loud giggle from the boy across you.

“your silence is telling me i’m right,” he said with a smug smile.

“okay, fine, yes, you’re right. i hate how accurate that was,” you sighed, trying to regain your composure.

“so… the guy?” jake asked, fed up from the anticipation.

“promise you won’t judge or tell anyone?” you held up your pinky in front of your best friend.

intertwining his finger with yours and placing his other hand on his chest as if he was swearing an oath, he declared, “i swear on my dog’s life, i won’t tell a soul.”

“good,” you nodded, “well, the guy is, uh, it’s someone you know well, he’s, hmm—”

“stop beating around the bush, who is it!”

“it’s jaemin!”

jake’s eyes widened as his jaw dropped, “jaemin? like na jaemin? like the med student jaemin, the photographer jaemin? the jaemin you met not even a few hours ago?”

“shhh!” you launched forward, pressing your hand against his mouth. “the whole restaurant does not need to know, and for the record, yes, it is that jaemin. and before you judge, which i’m pretty sure you already have, i’m not saying i like him or anything, i’m just, interested in him, let’s say.”

“interested? go on,” jake said to the best of his ability while your hand was still covering his mouth, prompting you to remove your hand and wipe it with your napkin.

“okay, ew. anyways, i-i don’t know, jaemin always sounded so sweet and funny whenever you told me about him, and, well, i saw that for myself today. he’s also, like, really really gorgeous, i couldn’t stop staring at him, and when he came up close to talk to me, i swear i almost fainted right there and then,” you paused to catch your breath, surprised at how easy it was for you to gush over someone you had, like jake pointed out, just met.

“but, like you said, i don’t even know him that well, which is why i’m glad he asked for my number so we can—”

“he asked for your number?”

“yeah, he asked for it so he could send the photos he took to me.”

“damn, i’m stealing that move from him, that’s smooth.”

“‘smooth’? ‘move’? y-you think he’s interested in me too? that he did it on purpose?” the mere idea of jaemin reciprocating your feelings had your heart rate speeding up.

“i-i don’t know anything! i mean, whaaat? what were you saying before i interrupted?” jake blinked rapidly, poorly covering up how suspicious he sounded.

you decided to ignore whatever it was he was hiding in case it gave you any false hope, and continued your point, “as i was saying, i’m glad he gave me his number, that way i can get to know him and stuff before jumping into anything. he was just… he was really nice and everything, i just wanna see how it goes, y’know?”

jake nodded, “ahh, okay, that sounds good. i hope it goes well for you, really. jaemin hyung’s a great guy, i can vouch for that, so no need to spend your early talking stage trying to figure out whether he’s a red flag or not.”

you laughed, cringing as the boy’s words reminded you of a past, failed fling, “oh, trust me, i don’t want a repeat of that. everything feels so much easier with jaemin, i have a feeling it’ll be different with him.”

JAEMIN CAM • REC

“get the drinks out, boys, we’re celebrating tonight!” haechan exclaimed, swinging the front door open and letting jaemin shuffle in behind him.

“it’s literally… thursday night,” jeno deadpanned, glancing up from the tv to give his roommate a look of concern, or was it confusion? jaemin was too preoccupied thinking about… someone else to tell.

haechan locked the door, passing jeno’s slumped figure on the sofa and making his way to the kitchen. scoffing, he muttered under his breath, “okay, when has that ever stopped you?”

unfortunately, he wasn’t quiet enough, as jeno shot up from the couch, ready to crush that little coconut head of his, but was quickly stopped by jaemin pulling him back down to sit and renjun interrupting the petty squabble.

“can you two shut the fuck up for a sec,” he looked up from what he was cooking, glaring as he pointed his spoon at jeno and haechan respectively. “you said we should be ‘celebrating’, right? that means… it went well with y/n! how was it then, jaem?”

haechan gasped, placing the cans of cider he’d retrieved from the fridge onto the counter, “oh my god, would you believe jaemin actually—”

renjun sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers as he whipped round to face his infuriating friend, “sorry, is your name jaemin?”

jeno and jaemin’s (not so) muffled giggles broke through haechan’s silence, which spoke for itself.

nodding, renjun turned back to the boiling pot on the stove, “yeah, i thought so. go on, jaem.”

jaemin took a deep breath, trying to organise what felt like a million and one thoughts into coherent words, “to be honest, i-it felt… like a dream. i must’ve blacked out or something, it was like some super confident version of me took over. i still can’t believe that i winked at her, practically held her hand, asked for her number and got it. oh, and she even gave me her instagram without me asking.”

“sorry, what? you got her number and held her hand and you— my god, i need some time to process the fact that you did all of that,” jeno placed a hand on jaemin’s shoulder, before quickly turning it into a hug. “shit, man, i’m proud of you.”

“damn, you go, jaem!” renjun cheered from the kitchen, his face beaming with pride for his best friend’s multitude of successes, “so y/n’s definitely single then? ‘cause you’re in a good position right now to start getting closer to her if she is.”

“yup,” haechan answered, “i checked with her friend jake, and jaemin’s got the green light. jake even said he’d help him out if he needed, but as if our jaemin will need his help, right?”

jaemin’s eyes widened, looking frantically from jeno beside him to the boys in the kitchen, “uh, well, you’re kinda overestimating my skills, hyuck.”

“oh no,” he shook his head, chuckling. “no, no, no, i know you’ll need help but you’ve got us! y’know, since we’ve actually gotten this far with girls before.”

renjun’s stirring slowed to a stop as his jaw dropped, and jeno whipped around, burying his face in the couch cushions to suppress his laughter.

“yah!” jaemin stood up, pointing a threatening finger at haechan. on any other occasion, he would’ve found the teasing funny and laughed it off, but jaemin’s furrowed brows and stern tone told the boys otherwise.

“ah, i crossed the line, didn’t i? sorry, sorry,” haechan said, holding his hands up in surrender.

jaemin sighed as he slumped back down onto the sofa, burying his head in his hands, “no, i’m sorry. i really do appreciate your help and support, because, you’re right, i have no idea what i’m doing. i just— i really really don’t wanna mess up with y/n, and i’m grateful that you guys are willing to help me out, but it would be nice if you let me figure some things out myself too.”

jeno ruffled his best friend’s hair, giving him a supportive pat on the back as he replied, “of course we can do that! i know that sometimes we get involved in each other’s business without being asked, but we do it because we care, even though it’s not always the best way of showing it.”

“yeah,” haechan added, abandoning the drinks and joining his roommates on the couch. “we just want the best for you but we don’t wanna get there by overstepping your boundaries or anything.”

“i agree! with both of those things,” renjun shouted from the kitchen as he plated their dinner, “sorry, they kinda said everything i was gonna say. oh, by the way, food’s ready!”

jaemin chuckled, “thank you guys, honestly. uh, also, this might sound a little contradictory now, but i just realised that i never gave y/n my number. can you help me figure out how to word my first message to her? while we eat, of course, i’m not gonna let the food renjunnie worked so hard on go cold.”

“oh my god, yes!”

“i’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life, not even kidding.”

“at least someone appreciates my hard work!”

the enthusiastic squeals eventually died down and the next thirty (yes, thirty) minutes were spent meticulously drafting a message to you, with the occasional distractions of renjun’s delicious stew and debates over what your contact picture should be.

“okay, i’m pretty sure you can send it now,” haechan said and was met with nods of agreement.

“pretty sure?! pretty sure isn’t sure enough for me, i’m checking it one more time,” jaemin shook his head, placing his phone on the table and reading the text aloud.

“‘hey y/n, it’s jaemin, just letting you know since i didn’t get to give you my number before. by the way, i haven’t managed to start editing the pics just yet but i’ll let you know how they look once i do, smiley blushy face emoji’. are we sure it’s not too much?” his fingers hovered over the screen, prepared to alter the message for the umpteenth time.

“jaemin, my guy,” jeno placed his hands on jaemin’s in reassurance. “we’ve said it before and we’ll say it again—it sounds fine. and it’s not too much either, the text isn’t dry and the fact that you mentioned the photos means she can start a conversation about it, so you’re less likely to be left on read.”

“plus, y’know, it’s too late now. jeno just sent the text,” renjun pointed out nonchalantly, directing everyone’s gazes to the blue text bubble on the screen and jeno’s hand stacked clumsily on top of jaemin’s… on top of the phone.

jaemin yelped, yanking his hands away and turning his phone off. he squeezed his eyes shut, not ready to accept what happened nor even think about getting a response any time soon.

“i-i’m sorry! i was just trying to make you feel better, i didn’t realise i was gonna press send. we can turn airplane mode on if you want so it doesn’t send! or we can—”

in the midst of jeno’s flurry of apologies, a small ding resonated through the kitchen, followed by another, as the screen illuminated, showing two notifications from messages.

“no. way.” jaemin breathed out, eyes now open and glued to the notification banner. a quick glance over at his wide-eyed friends with their jaws hanging open told him that they were all anticipating the same thing.

“open those notifications, open them right now, na jaemin!” haechan said, more of an encouragement than a demand.

jaemin quickly came to his senses, scrambling to unlock his phone, as the other boys leaned forward to get a closer look at your replies.

“my god, she’s quick,” renjun commented, shuffling closer to read the messages.

“‘thanks for letting me know, saved it now hehe smiley face’. mission accomplished, jaem, she has your number and she replied!”

“ooh, and it seems like your conversation starter worked,” haechan took over for the second, longer message.

“‘speaking of pics, jake never lived up to his ‘threat’ and he took some photos of me at dinner, wanna help me pick which ones to post?’ wait, is she talking about when jake said he would stop taking her instagram photos if she didn’t listen to him?”

jaemin couldn’t hide his wide grin as he nodded, remembering that he was the reason you were so preoccupied.

“well, don’t just sit there blushing like a tomato, answer! you don’t wanna leave her on read for too long, do you?” jeno lightly smacked jaemin on the arm, prompting him to type out a quick ‘sure!’.

once again, they all gathered around the phone, waiting to see the three dots pop up or hear another notification alert. moments passed with no dots nor dings, all that could be seen was a faint ‘delivered’ as the screen slowly faded to black from lack of activity.

“it’s fine, it’s fine,” jaemin shrugged, forcing out a laugh. “she’ll respond later… probably, right? you know what, doesn’t matter, i shouldn’t be so bothered about it, does anyone want another cider?”

before he could even leave his seat, renjun gently tugged his arm, sitting him back down, “jaem, stop stressing, and don’t say ‘i’m not stressing!’ because we know you well enough to know that you definitely are. how about you turn your phone off for the time being, hmm? i know you want things to go well with y/n, but try not to let yourself depend on her too much, okay?”

“he’s right, trust me, it’s awful—obsessively checking if you’ve gotten a notification from a certain someone and letting it ruin your day when you haven’t. y’know, just speaking from experience,” haechan added, earning a nod of agreement from jeno.

“yeah,” jaemin sighed, turning his phone off as renjun suggested. “you guys are right, thank you. you’re probably gonna need to remind me of that a lot, i just– the last thing i want is to get heartbroken.”

jeno placed a hand on jaemin’s shoulder, “we’ll do everything in our power to make sure you don’t get hurt, jaem.”

for the next few hours, jaemin decided to keep himself busy and distract himself from thinking about you. but it was as if the universe didn’t want him to get you out of his head.

washing the dishes reminded him of the lazy roommate you told him about earlier. showering with music on to block out his thoughts? the song that came on shuffle had played earlier while he was taking pictures of you. even reading through his stupid ‘ethics in medicine’ textbook reminded him of you and your passion for your major. before he knew it, the thought of you had infiltrated anything and everything that he did, whether he liked it or not.

“fuck it,” jaemin muttered to nobody in particular, finally turning his phone back on. impatiently tapping his finger against the side of his case, he watched, waiting for the screen to load.

as soon as it turned on, he rushed to unlock it, his hands shaking as he went to click on the messages app. he would be lying if he said his heartbeat didn’t speed up when he saw a ‘6’ hovering next to the icon. before even opening the app, jaemin took a few deep breaths, preparing himself for the worst.

those six messages could be from multiple people—it could be jaehoon sending the notes from the lecture he missed the other day, it could be his mum nagging him about not getting enough sleep, it could be renjun asking for more toilet paper because someone had forgotten to replace the empty roll earlier.

even as he considered all the completely rational possibilities, he still couldn���t come to terms with the idea that the messages could be from anyone but you.

he squeezed his eyes shut and tapped the icon, slowly opening one eye, and then the other to confirm what he thought he’d seen. you had, in fact, sent jaemin six messages almost half an hour ago.

the knowledge that his mental torture could have ended earlier only passed his mind briefly, as he was more bothered by the fact that he had ignored you for so long.

he opened the messages, smiling fondly at the short apology you sent for responding so late because your data wasn’t working. his eyes naturally drifted to the pictures you’d sent, the beat of his thumping heart rivalling that of a deafening drum as he looked closer.

it hadn’t been long since jaemin last saw you but the way your enchanting smile shone like the bright, blazing sun made him feel like he was being welcomed into a brand new day. a giggle escaped his lips when he swiped to the last photo, depicting you mid-laugh, trying to cover your face with your hands but failing to hide those adorably crinkled, sparkling eyes of yours.

‘as an extremely professional photographer, i personally think that they’re all great and you should post them all but i think you look prettiest in the last one,’ jaemin typed out and sent, exiting the app as soon as possible to stop himself from overthinking his response and stressing out about when you’d reply.

feeling the corners of his lips starting to curl upwards, he buried his face in his pillow in embarrassment, but even that couldn’t stop the massive grin from growing. the ring of a notification had him darting upwards, letting out a little squeal when he saw your name on the banner.

‘thank you, mr professional photographer na, the last one’s my favourite too, i’ll post them all with that one as the cover :) since ur such a pro, can you help me choose a caption too?’

never had a simple colon and closed parenthesis made jaemin kick his feet and giggle before, but the thought of you smiling so sweetly behind your screen as you messaged him had his heart racing and his cheeks reddening.

he quickly replied with an ‘of course!’ and, before he knew it, there was no longer that anxious wait between him sending messages and you replying. as the conversation went on, jaemin gradually felt at ease talking to you, his responses coming naturally rather than being carefully crafted and analysed. although the beating of his heart was still erratic, there was something so comfortable, so natural about talking to you that made his worries and everything else around him simply drift away.

that was the first of many late nights jaemin chose to spend with you.

© YOUR-WORLD-WITH-NCT, 2023

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