#!! feel free to reblog !! if you already did with the other one no worries

[willfool]

Will, where have you been ?

Where’s Tanya ?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Mr. Rogers leaves without saying a word. His face is pale as his hand opens and closes in a fist at his side and he strides past your desk. You watch after him, thinking for a moment that you should follow. No, he has to sort this out on his own. You’ve already done too much. 

You go through his calendar and cancel his only other meeting. You don’t think that’s going to happen.  

It’s strange sitting there alone. Mr. Rogers comes and goes often but not know when he’ll be back puts you on edge. An hour passes then another. You spend your lunch outside in the sunshine then come back in to the stale office air. 

Your phone rings and you answer. You’re surprised when Rogers’ voice comes from the speaker. You expected it to be Dizzie for some reason. She’s been awfully quiet today. 

“She changed the locks,” he croaks. 

There’s static on the line and thrum that’s so loud it nearly drowns him out. 

“Sir?” You sit up straight. 

“Peggy. She locked me out. I don’t... I don’t know what to do. I’ve just been sitting here in my car...” his voice is a dull murmur. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers. Is that—can she do that? Can you call your lawyer? The police?” 

“Police told me to call the lawyer. Lawyer says it’s gonna take a while so... yeah.” 

“I’m so so sorry,” you touch your cheek. “I can’t even imagine... that’s horrible.” 

“Yeah, I mean, who would leave you, Rosie? No, that’d be crazy.” He sniffles, “guess I deserve this. I worked so much, all so I could give her the life she wanted but it turns out I worked just enough to drive her away.” 

“Sir,” you utter. 

“Guess I could go to a hotel. I mean, might as well spend the money before I have alimony to pay,” he laughs crisply. “Bucky’s not picking up. I thought maybe I could stay there but... just because my life is falling apart doesn’t mean he needs to pick up the pieces.” 

He sounds so broken it makes your heart rend. Something about his cadence also worries you. He doesn’t sound healthy. 

“Sir, where are you?”  

You realise then what that noise is. Water. 

“By the bridge. The water looks cold.” 

You swallow and stand up. “I’ll come to you, alright?” 

“Rosie? Why...” 

“Just, it’s okay, sir, I’ll be there. Is that Collingswood Bridge? I love the flowers there.” 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he answers. 

“Alright, I’m on my way okay, so let’s stay on the phone.” 

“Rosie, why do you sound so upset?” 

“I’m not upset. I just think you need a friend so I’m coming. Did you want me to message Mr. Barnes as well.” 

“I told you, he’s too busy for me,” he mopes. 

“But just in case--” 

“Oh, woah!” He exclaims. 

“Sir, what--” 

“Nothing, nothing, I just... this bridge is so high up.” 

You tamp down your worry and take a breath, “sir, I canceled your meetings. Oh, did I tell you, they’re opening a new donut place downstairs too! I know your favourite is the one with the sprinkles.” 

“You remember,” he says softly.  

“Of course, sir,” you assure him. 

You keep chattering about nothing in particular as you swipe up your bag and race out of the office. You try not let him hear you panting as you rush down to catch a cab. You mute the phone to tell the driver to head to the bridge then get back on the line. 

The conversation rolls on as you don’t let Rogers stop talking. You get out with a hasty thanks and tip to the driver. You rush down the bridge without looking ahead and only after you’re halfway down do you see your boss sitting on the railing. Holy moly. 

You slow and walk up to him slowly, letting out quiet mhm’s and uh huhs and you grab onto his forearm. He flinches and you tug on him. You won’t be able to stop him from going over if he slips but you didn’t want to just call out to him and give him a warning. 

“Rose!” He looks at you and lowers his phone. “How’d you get here?” 

“Mr. Rogers, please, will you get off the railing?” You ask softly. 

He stares at you then looks out at the water. He laughs and turns to hang his legs over the inside of the bridge. “Sure, Rosie. Were you worried?” 

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay, sir,” you cling to him until he’s on his feet. He glances down at you grip and you finally let go. 

“I’m good. I’m great, now that you’re here. Did you find me a room yet?” He asks. 

You wince. You’ve been on the phone this whole time. When does he think you did that? 

“Are you okay?” You ask. 

“Of course, of course,” his eyes are red from tears, his cheeks pallid and streaked. 

“Um, I’m sorry, everything’s booked up,” you say, “how about you come to my place? You can stay on my couch. Just for tonight.” 

“Really?” His brow wrinkles, “you’d do that for me?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you answer. You don’t think leaving him alone right now would be smart. Nor could you forgive yourself if anything happened. “It’s fine. My place is just a bit small.” 

“Mm, I don’t mind,” he smiles and pushes his shoulders up in a shiver as a breeze blows across the water. “It’s cold out here.” 

“It is, sir,” you agree. “Where did you park?” 

[kkyaka]

Summary: You meet new friends your second year of college, but the hot art major is the one who really catches your eye

Pairing: Sero Hanta x black!fem!reader

Word Count: 31,865 (😐)

Warnings: college!au, sero's an art major, lots of flirting, reader is seriously crushing on sero, reader is kinda innocent, mentions of light partying, drinking, and weed, reader gets drunk, lots of fluffy moments, sero's whipped for you, confession of feelings, reader has doubts about sero's feelings, date night at the fair, public indecency kinda (sero feels you up in the ferris wheel), you and sero shower together at one point, kinda a lot of smut lmfao, fingering (f), sero's kinda got a corruption and innocence kink, handjob, tit fondling, tit sucking, oral (f + m), thigh fucking, reader's a virgin, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, "just the tip", squirting, little bit of dirty talk on sero's part, trapping sorta (reader doesn't let sero pull out), sero's a smug bastard and a HUGE flirt, lemme know if I missed anything!

A/N: I honestly do not know how I managed to write all of this, but I was having the time of life doing so lmfao. Lowkey writing with my clit on this one 💀, and this was high key based on this fanart. Another fic of mine that has made its way to the top of my favorites lmfao. Thank you for reading and reblogs are greatly appreciated! And happy new year!

You were already entering your second year of college, and you hadn’t really done much that would classify as living the “college experience.” Your life was pretty monotonous; waking up, going to class, doing homework, and studying. You’ve made a couple of friends, but you don’t hang out with them very often unless all of you are free.

That doesn’t bother you very much, you’ve never been a social butterfly in the first place anyway. You like your roommate, but you don’t see her that often because she’s usually staying with her boyfriend most of the time. You don’t really mind since that means you can have your own peace and quiet when you go home, but sometimes, on the days when you don’t have anything to do, you wish you had more to do with your time.

The second semester is underway, and you’re heading to your second class of the day. You get there pretty early since you don’t know where the classroom is, and you get there right as the class before yours gets out. You wait for the people to file out before you walk in, trying to see what seat would be the best to sit at.

The classroom isn’t that big, not really being as big as a lecture hall, so you’re expecting this class to be on the smaller side, and you pick a seat on the inside of the row further towards the back of the room. There are a few other people in the room that got here early just like you did, and you set your backpack beside you before pulling your laptop out. 

The class starts to pile in as the time for the class to start gets closer, and as you're pulling up your notes for the class, you can see someone sitting in the row next to you in your peripheral, but you don’t pay attention to them. It would’ve been worse if they sat directly next to you. 

“I love your shoes,” you hear right as the professor walks in, and you turn to look at the person that sat next to you.

“Oh, thank you,” you say warmly, sticking your foot out a bit as you look down at your shoes. 

“This is my second time taking this class,” she tells you making you frown a little.

“Really? Is it hard?” you ask cautiously.

“That or I just didn’t pay attention well enough,” she jokes, and you laugh with her, the joke easing your worries a bit. You know this class isn’t going to be easy, but the fact that you already know someone that’s taken it makes you feel a lot better. “I’m Mina,” the pink-haired girl introduces herself, holding her hand out.

“y/n,” you introduce warmly, shaking her hand. “So, what year are you?”

“A junior,” she supplies. “You?”

“Sophmore. I could’ve taken this class last year, but I didn’t wanna deal with it yet.”

“Oh, I totally understand that,” she agrees, and the professor starts talking which signals the end of your conversation. Since this class is so short, the professor already went over the syllabus before class started, so she got into the content right away. You had already downloaded the slides on your tablet, writing any other notes she mentions as she talks.

Luckily, the class doesn’t feel like it lasts long, and that could be because the professor talked so fast. Once she dismisses the class, everyone starts packing up, and Mina turns to you once the both of you stand.

“So, are you done for the day?”

“Yeah! This was my last class of the day, so I’m free.”

“You wanna get lunch?” she asks as you both put your backpacks on. You give her an enthusiastic confirmation, and you follow her out of the room. You get to know each other more as you walk to get food, and she looks down at her phone before she turns back to you. “My friends are going to be joining us if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, not minding meeting more people. You both are the first ones to sit down at a table, and she tells you that her friends are on the way. You fill the time with talking about classes and finding out each other's majors.

Denki is the first of her friends that you meet, and you’re nearly overwhelmed by his bright personality. You all make conversation, finding yourself laughing at most of the jokes he cracks. Jirou’s in tow, and they sit by Mina. She tells Mina that another one of their friends will be here soon, and you wonder how they’ll be. Denki and Jirou are really friendly, so you assume that the next friend won’t be too far from that.

“Took you long enough to get here, Sero.” You’re looking down at your phone when you hear Jirou speak, so you look up to see who they are, and your face falls just a little. The last thing you were expecting was someone so good-looking. 

“Yeah, yeah. My professor ran over,” he supplies, and you can’t take your eyes off of him. His hair is half up, half down, the bun of his hair sitting right above his neck, and you can see a sliver of a tattoo on his neck that disappears underneath his jacket.

“Well, since you’re here now, you can meet my new friend.” She gestures to you, telling him your name, and the smile he gives you is enough to render you speechless. 

“Hey, I’m Sero,” he says, even though you already know that, and you almost don’t shake his hand because you’re so focused on looking at him. 

“Hi,” you manage, internally groaning at how that’s all you can manage. He looks at you for a little while after you speak, his other friends are already engrossed in their own conversation. You try to think of something to say to fill the silence, but he beats you to it, pointing to the chair next to you.

“You mind?” he questions, and you shake your head, gesturing quickly for him to take the seat. He sheds his jacket, and you can see that the tattoo on his neck goes down further, once again being hidden by the shirt he’s wearing. Which hugs his body like no other, might you add. You swallow thickly as you look over his torso, your eyes catching another tattoo running down his arm.

He catches you looking at it, laughing softly as he sits down next to you. He pulls his sleeve up his impressive arm, moving his arm toward you so you can see it better. “Got it recently,” he tells you, and he grabs your hand. “You can touch it if you want.” You ignore the tingles that go up your arm, letting him guide your hand, and you softly run your fingers over the ink.

“It’s beautiful,” you admire, looking at the veins and flowers that flow over his skin. 

“Yeah, that makes two of you.” You jump a little at his words, looking up at him, and you can’t stop how warm your face grows. 

“Ah, um, thanks,” you mutter, wanting to slap your forehead. “Do you have any others?” you find yourself asking, still getting over the compliment.

“Yeah,” he starts, pulling his shirt down a little, so you can see the rest of the tattoo on his neck. “I’d have to take my shirt off to show you all of it, but,” he adds. “And I got a couple more.” You nod at his words, your eyes still lingering more on his physique than the tattoo. “You got any?”

“Uh, yeah,” you start, and you sweep your hair over your shoulder, turning a bit so he can see it. “It’s a matching tattoo I got with my sisters,” you explain, and you flinch a little when you feel his fingers run over it.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Shoulda asked first.”

“No, it’s okay. It just surprised me.” When his fingers leave your skin, you take that as a sign to face him again. “I want one on my spine the most,” you tell him, and you see his eyes flash, but then it looks like he rethinks what he was going to say.

“Really? Why there?”

“I just think it’ll look really cool, honestly,” you laugh, rubbing your hand over where his fingers once were.

“Yeah, it would.” He rests his arm on the back of your chair, his whole body facing toward you, and you’re practically gushing from the attention. It doesn’t seem like his friends are paying you any attention, and you continue your conversation. You talk to Sero most of the time, and it’s kind of hard to keep up since he keeps hitting you with sudden compliments, and each time you giggle. You feel like that’s exactly what he’s going for because he looks proud of himself every time you do.

You glance over to where everybody else is sitting, and to your surprise, they’re gone. “When did they leave?”

“Yeah, they always do that,” Sero responds. “I’m still here, though.”

“Right,” you laugh, holding back a shiver when he runs a finger up and down your arm.

“You doing anything for the rest of the day?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Not really. Just mentally preparing myself for all of the assignments I’m gonna have soon.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Your major’s more taxing than mine,” he says after he laughs quietly. You found out that Sero’s an art major, which really wasn’t a surprise, and he showed you some of his work which was probably the best thing you’ve laid your eyes on; besides the artist, of course. “Well, if you wanna head to the library or whatever, I won’t mind.”

“I’m probably just gonna head home honestly. The day’s been pretty eventful,” you say, and honestly, this is the most social interaction you’ve had in a long time.

“Mina is capable of drawing out a lot in people,” Sero sighs. “I’ll walk you home if that’s okay.” You don’t want to end your conversation with Sero just yet, and he definitely doesn’t need to walk you home, but you let him do it anyway. 

When you stand, you can finally see how much he towers over you. You try not to pay so much attention to it, but he’s basically in your space the entire time you walk back to your dorm, so you really have no choice but to. When you get to your dorm, you feel kind of upset that it’s about to end so soon, and you think Sero can see it on your face.

“I’ll see you around,” he says when you stop walking. “You’re basically a part of our friend group now,” he continues before he leans down to your face. “So, we’ll meet again soon.” He flashes you a smile, winking at you before he walks away, and you put your hand on your chest when you feel your heart racing, taking a deep breath before you walk into your dorm.

The more the semester goes on, the more time you spend with your new friends, and you start to wonder if Sero’s flirty mannerisms are just a part of his personality. He seems to have them dialed up whenever he talks to you, and there’s not a part of you that hates it. Once you all learned about each other’s schedules, you started hanging out with whoever was free whenever none of you had class. 

Most of the time it’s with Sero, who always manages to find the most peaceful places on campus. He claims it’s the best way to find inspiration, and you could honestly listen to him talk for hours. His voice always sounds so nice to your ears, and there have been too many times when you’ve zoned out while he’s talking, caught up in looking at his face. 

You’re sitting outside since it’s so nice today, and you’re sitting on a blanket with Sero as you talk. Since the semester is in full swing, you’re mostly studying as you talk to him, turning to look at him as you talk every now and then. Once you’ve decided that you’ve done enough work for now, you put some of it away, and you chuckle softly as you put it in your backpack.

“Why are you staring at me, Sero?” you question, turning to look at him once you’re done.

“Cause I’m drawing,” he says warmly, smiling at you.

“Well, you can’t stare at me if you’re drawing.”

“I can be if you’re the one I’m drawing,” he counters smoothly, and that gets you to stop talking for a bit. “You’re really pretty, it would be a crime not to draw you.” Your smile widens, glancing away from him as your face heats up. 

He gets up from the blanket, walks over to one of the many flower bushes that are in bloom, and he picks one off the bush. “Sero, you can’t just do that,” you scold lightly, and he shrugs as he walks back to you.

“It’s in the name of art,” he drawls, and you roll your eyes as he sits back down next to you, and he guides you to look at him with his fingers on your chin. “See? Look.” He moves your hair back behind your ear with his hand before sliding the flower behind it, his fingers lingering on your face before they fall away. “Beautiful,” he whispers, and you’re having such a hard time holding his eyes, wanting to look away bashfully. 

“You’re such a sweet-talker,” you muse, and he slides closer to you, sweeping some of your hair over your shoulder.

“Only to pretty girls like you.” Your cheeks are hurting so bad from smiling, and you swear the sun gets a bit brighter, but you don’t want to tell yourself it’s just because the clouds aren’t hiding the sun anymore. “You wanna see what I drew?” You nod quietly and he hands you his notebook.

You can’t find any words as you look through it, seeing it filled with any and everything. Your movements slow when you flip the page, seeing both sides filled with pictures of you. You chuckle softly when you see that most of the pages after that are just you. “You don’t draw anything else?” you ask him.

“Not when you’re the best thing my eyes have seen.” You laugh at that, not knowing what to say to that at all.

“What? So, I’m like your muse or something?” you finally manage to ask.

“Definitely,” he answers quickly. “My professor has nothing but good things to say about what I’ve submitted, and I have you to thank for that.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help your grade,” you jest, and he grabs your hand.

“Lemme draw you something,” he says softly, and you move your hand further into his to give him the ok. He uncaps the marker he has in his other hand, and he slides his hand up to your wrist, lifting it up to place a soft kiss on your skin. The action nearly has you squirming, and he smirks, giving you a quick glance before drawing on your skin. 

You watch him, wondering what he’s gonna draw, and you giggle a bit as he does, claiming it tickles. He pushes your head to the side softly, saying that he doesn’t want you to see it yet, and you laugh softly but look somewhere else anyway. When he’s finished, you look back down, seeing that it’s the flower that he put in your hair. It’s got so much detail, and he softly blows on it to make sure it’s dry.

You softly run your finger over it, and he grabs your wrist again. He kisses over the ink before gently rubbing his finger over it. “What was that for?”

“To make it last a little longer,” he tells you, and you chuckle looking down at it again. 

“It’s beautiful, Sero. You’re really talented.” 

“Why, thank you,” he muses before he lays back down, and this time he pulls you with him. You lay beside him, shielding your eyes from the sun as you look at the clouds. You can feel him brushing his fingers over the back of your hand as he starts to talk about what the clouds look like. And you get lost in the conversation, feeling like time slows down as you make out everything you can see.

~

You’re walking out of your class with Mina when you catch a familiar face, and you smile as Sero walks up to the both of you. He gravitates to your side, walking with you both as you leave the building. He only walks with you for a little, having another class to get to, and he sends you another wink with a promise to talk to you later before he walks away.

You look down at your feet as you walk, biting your lip to try and hide your smile. “So, what do you think of Sero?” Mina suddenly asks, and you snap your head toward her, looking like a deer in headlights.

“What do you mean?” you ask, barely managing to not stutter over your words.

“You know what I mean,” she presses playfully, nudging your shoulder with her elbow gently. “Something tells me you’ve got a crush.”

Your cheeks flood with heat, pressing your hand to your face quickly. “I dunno. He’s really cool,” you respond lamely.

“Oh, I think you think he’s more than cool,” she teases. “It’s okay to admit you like him, girl.” 

“I guess so,” you quietly admit.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You shove her softly as she laughs, rolling your eyes. “I don’t blame you, though. He is very easy on the eyes.” You laugh as you shake your head. It’s not like that’s a lie, and you obviously like more than just his looks.

You haven’t really known him for that long, only a couple of months, but every time you talk to him it’s like you’ve known each other for longer than that. You look down at your feet again, smiling as you think about all the time you’ve spent with him. Yeah, you do like him, but you don’t really want to admit that out loud until you know how Sero feels.

It might seem weird, but you don’t want to put all this thought into admitting your feelings when he doesn’t even feel the same way. “But I still don’t know how he feels about me,” you respond, and you feel conflicted at your words because you feel like with the way he acts around you, he feels the same way you do. But there’s a part of you that’s saying that this is all an act, maybe. He might talk to other girls this way.

“Are you serious?” Mina sighs. “There’s no way you believe that.”

“I dunno. I mean, is it okay for me to assume he has feelings for me?” you question, uncertainty in your words.

“Okay, you know what?” she starts after she sighs again. You both stop in front of the building that Mina has to go into, and she turns to face you. “Sero’s having a little house party on Friday, and you will be there. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you about it yet.”

“I’m not the partying type,” you start, and she shakes her head quickly, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Nope! You will be there, and I will be at your dorm to make sure you’re coming,” she pushes, and you know there’s no arguing, so you roll your eyes before you smile again.

“Fine! I’ll go,” you say, chuckling a bit. She cheers a little bit, bouncing on her feet, and she gives you a quick hug before walking into the building. You shake your head as you start to walk away, your thought quickly turning to think about what you’re going to wear.

Friday sneaks up on you, and you’ve been deciding what to wear for about an hour and a half. You had ideas of outfits in your head since the beginning of the week, but you never had a chance to actually pull them out and get a really good look at them. Mina calls you, and you let her into the building before walking to your room.

“Please do not tell me that’s what you’re wearing,” she says as you walk to your dorm.

“I’m stuck on what to wear,” you tell her, and she walks into what looks like your wardrobe and a tornado mixed. Since your roommate’s not here, you were using her bed to spread out some of your clothes, and you sit down at your desk as Mina looks through them.

“This is cute,” she comments, picking up a dress that you can count on one hand how many times you’ve worn. 

“I don’t know if it fits my body right, though,” you say, standing up and taking it from her, putting it up against your body.

“Okay, well, I’ll be the judge of that.” She urges you to put it on, so you change out of your clothes, slipping it on, holding your hands out when you’ve got it on. “Oh, my God, you look amazing! What do you mean you don’t know if it fits your body?”

“You really think it looks okay?” you ask, trying your hardest not to cross your arms over your body.

“Yes! You look fine! Now get your shoes on because I’ve still gotta get drinks.” You quickly put your shoes on, checking to make sure you’ve done everything you need to do before grabbing your phone and keys, and walking out with Mina.

After Mina gets the drinks, she drives over to Sero’s house, and you’re a bit surprised that her car is one of the few there when she pulls into the driveway. “I thought you said this was a house party?” you say as you get out of the car. “Are we here early?”

“This is more like a kickback than a house party,” she offers, and you walk behind her as she walks up to the door, knocking on it before opening it up. “We’re here!” she announces, and you close the door behind you, seeing Denki and Jirou along with some of their other friends. Some of the you’ve met in passing a few times, and others you find out are just friends of friends.

You quietly greet everybody, following Mina into the kitchen, so she can set her drinks down. You haven’t really drank before, so she got some seltzers for you to try. She hands you one, and when you look at it cautiously, she tells you that there’s no pressure to drink, but you decide that you only live once, so why not? 

You pop it open, take a sip, surprised at how good it tastes. You take a few more sips as Mina says that she has to go check on something really quick, and as you’re watching her walk away, Sero is walking up to you. You nearly choke on your drink, taking in his outfit right before you have a coughing fit. 

He’s wearing black jeans that practically look like a second skin, the loose button shirt he’s wearing half-tucked into his jeans with a chain hanging from two of the belt loops. Only a couple of the buttons are buttoned, leaving his toned chest on display, and your eyes catch on the chain that swings a little when he walks. 

“You came,” he says when he gets to you, immediately crowding into your space, and you don’t shy away from it.

“Yeah, Mina practically dragged me here,” you laugh, taking another sip from the can. 

“You look great,” he compliments, his eyes running down your body, and you look down at yourself, taking another swig in hopes of easing your nerves.

“Thanks,” you say after you swallow, and you suddenly get a warm feeling that runs through your veins, and you’re mostly sure it’s the alcohol. Your eyes catch the rings on his fingers as he rubs at his neck, seeing that his hair is down, some of it nearly falling into his eyes. “You look good, too.”

“Yeah?” he presses, crowding you against the counter, and your nose picks up how good he smells, and it’s almost enough to make your knees wobble. You nod, keeping the can next to your mouth as you look down to hide your smile. He picks your head back up by your chin as he lets the other hand rest on the counter next to you. “You should feel my shirt,” he offers, taking your hand in his, and his touch is making you feel like you’re on fire. You can barely focus on touching the fabric, feeling how it’s soft and silky at the same time, and in the back of your mind, you think how on-brand it would be for him to have a silk shirt.

He then guides your hand to where his chest is exposed and before you can think, you're splaying your fingers against his skin, feeling how firm it is. Your fingers tighten slightly around the can and his smirk widens. “You like what you see?” he whispers, leaning down to your face, and you wonder how long it takes for alcohol to hit your system when you’re drinking for the first time.

“Maybe,” you whisper, finally looking at him in the eyes, and you can’t keep eye contact for long, looking off to the side.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles, letting his fingers run over your neck, and you can’t stop the shudder that runs through you. He smiles at your reaction before he grabs your hand. “C’mon, let’s go sit with everyone else.”

He pulls you away, and while he’s walking, you take another swig in hopes that it’ll settle your racing heart. It seems to do the opposite though because by the time you’re taking a seat on the couch, that warm feeling runs through you again. Everyone’s having their own conversations, none of them stopping when the two of you walk into the room, and Mina gives you a look that you just roll your eyes at.

Sero sits down on the end of the couch, pulling you with him, and you practically fall into him as you start to feel a lot more relaxed. You eventually join in on some of the conversations, actually talking and meeting Bakugou and Kirishima since you’ve only spoken to them briefly in passing. There’s music playing in the background, and you’re halfway through your seltzer when you really start to feel like you’re drunk.

You try not to draw too much attention to it, and you wonder if anyone can tell that your words are starting to slow down a bit, but if they do, they don’t say anything about it. Mina rolls a blunt, passing it around to everyone, and you refuse, feeling like getting crossed right now wouldn’t be the best idea.

You pass it to Sero, who takes a couple of hits before passing it over. You’ve finished your seltzer, and you start to lean more into Sero as Mina brings you another drink. He doesn’t seem to care when you feel his arm tighten around you, his fingers running over the exposed skin just beneath your dress. The touch starts to make you squirm a bit, and Sero smiles, giving you a look as he keeps doing it.

“How ya feeling, pretty girl?” Sero asks you, lifting your head up so that you can look at him. Everyone’s started to do their own thing, and some people have left, the main group of the bunch only remaining. 

“I’m okay,” you say softly, blinking slowly, and you smile widely even though you don’t really have a reason to. He smiles back at you, squeezing his arm to your side just a bit in a way that feels ridiculously good. 

“You want some water?” he asks quietly and you shake your head.

“No, ‘m okay,” you murmur, and he takes the drink from your hand, which you don’t protest, and he finishes it in about three swigs. 

Mina’s sitting on the other side of you now, Denki and Jirou migrating over and taking Bakugou and Kirishima’s spots on the floor. You wonder where they went, noticing that Izuku is gone as well. “Are we the only ones left?” you ask, looking up at Sero, and he nods his head towards the back door.

“The others went to get some air,” he tells you. 

“Why don’t we play Never Have I Ever?” Mina offers, and if you were sober, you would call her out on how suspicious her voice sounds, knowing that she’s up to something, but in your state, you can only focus on Sero’s body against you.

“She’s not drinking anymore,” Sero tells her.

“That’s okay. We can just use our fingers,” she offers, and you shrug, figuring that there’s nothing else to do. The questions start off pretty tame, but that doesn’t last very long, and you can feel your face growing warm at the questions the more taboo they become.

“Never have I ever used sex toys,” Mina says, and your face seems to get even warmer, but your finger doesn’t go down. “So, what do you use?” she asks you, her voice genuine. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she adds.

“I just, um…” you start, still feeling a bit nervous to admit it even though you’ve got alcohol running through your veins. “Squeeze my legs. I’ve tried using my fingers, but it feels kinda weird.” You hide your face in Sero’s chest for a second, laughing a little before you turn to everyone else.

“Have you had sex before?” Jirou asks, prompting you to shake your head.

“I haven’t had a boyfriend before,” you admit softly.

“Really?” Mina gasps, and you nod your head, shrugging.

“I guess I just never saw someone that I liked,” you respond honestly. “But at the same time, I wasn’t really looking for one.”

“I get that,” Mina supplies. “So, you’ve never done anything?”

“Not really, I’ve just made out with a couple of guys but that’s it.” You’re not really shy to admit that since everything is out in the open now, and everyone moves on to the next question. The last of the drinking is jello shots, and you only take one since Denki made them so strong, and you can feel yourself getting drunk all over again.

The game stops a little while after, and everyone leaves to raid Sero’s kitchen which he just rolls his eyes at, and he looks down at you. “You okay?” he asks, poking at your side, and you giggle a little, nodding your head.

“Yeah,” you answer, looking up at him. You’re about to say something else, but you slowly close your mouth as you rethink it.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” You feel like you could be on cloud nine hearing him call you that, and you want to hear it again. He frowns a little when you push off of him, barely being able to stand up due to how much you’re wobbling. He keeps his hands out to make sure you don’t fall, and you stand in front of you him.

And what you do next is definitely because of the alcohol because there’s no way you would do it sober. You take his hands, moving them to the side before you straddle his lap, and his eyebrows raise high on his head, and you smile, finally being able to do something to catch him off guard.

“I really like you, Sero,” you say softly, leaning forward so that your face is barely away from his, and he huffs a little, smiling widely. He laces his fingers with yours, and you laugh softly as you ignore that voice in your head screaming what in the hell are you doing.

“Really now?” he teases and you nod quickly.

“Yeah. But I dunno if you like me,” you voice aloud.

“Don’t worry that pretty little head, sweetheart. I like you, too,” he answers, tugging a little at your dress since it’s ridden up, and you forgot that you’re not really wearing the right thing for the position you’re in. You smile widely, reeling at his answer, and you rest your forehead against his.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” you ask, and he watches you for a bit before he answers.

“Definitely. But I’m not gonna do it now.”

“Why not?” you whine, pressing your head against his a little more.

“Because I wanna make sure you know what you’re saying. You’re drunk.”

“I know what I’m saying, I promise,” you pout, and he laughs softly, moving your hands from side to side.

“I know, baby, but I don’t wanna do anything you’re not gonna like,” he presses, and your pout only deepens, and you let his and your hands fall to your sides as you sit up.

“You don’t wanna kiss me?” you ask, and he can’t help but look at you, seeing how your dress hugs every curve of your body, the end of it threatening to expose even more skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him in instead. “Shit, don’t look at me like that.” He carefully sets his hands on your waist, taking a quick breath. “Of course, I wanna kiss you, just not right now.”

What he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you how he wants to, defile you in ways that would make your mind go numb, but he doesn’t he remains strong. But you’re surely but slowly breaking his will down. 

“I’ll remember it, I promise,” you try again, letting yourself fall forward, resting your face in his neck. “Just one, Hanta?” you whisper in his ear, and his fingers twitch at your sides, releasing a loud groan. 

Damn it, you smell so good, and Sero can feel himself getting lost in how your smell surrounds him. “Fuck, I gotta get you home,” he says, standing up with you in his arms. He sets you down, fixing your dress, and you’re still wearing that same pout that’s about to be his undoing. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You nod anyway, and he quickly dashes to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before telling everyone that he’s taking you home. 

He grabs your hand to guide you to the door, and he grabs his jacket, helping you put it on before he goes to his car. He helps you buckle in before getting in himself, and the whole ride back to your dorm is just him with a tight grip on the steering wheel as he listens to you talk. You’re halfway through the bottle of water he gave you, and you think you’re sobering up since you feel a headache coming on.

You’re feeling more like yourself once he gets to your dorm, and he walks you to your dorm once you both get out of the car. “You sobering up yet?” he asks you softly, and you nod slowly, pushing at your forehead when you start to feel the pain of the headache.

“Yeah, my head’s starting to hurt.”

“Make sure you finish that and eat something, okay?” he tells you, but you don’t nod, instead you turn to him.

“I don’t think I’m drunk anymore,” you tell him, and he steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You sure?” he questions cautiously.

You nod quickly, but you can definitely feel some liquid courage still running through your veins, and you wrap your arms around his neck. God, he’s so much bigger than you, it does something to you that you’ve never felt before. It also doesn’t help that his jacket practically engulfs your frame, and his smell is even stronger now that you have it on.

He moves his other hand to your body, and both of his hands rub up and down your back, making your body react way more than it should. He takes a step closer to you, and you nearly hold your breath in anticipation. “Please, Sero,” you whisper, and he smiles for a split second, slowly letting his head come down to yours.

Right as you try to kiss him, he pulls away slightly, and you groan softly, tightening your arms around his neck so that he can’t go any further. What you were gonna say to him gets lost because his lips are suddenly on yours, and you’re glad his arms tighten around you because you swear you’re about to fall.

It feels like fireworks have been set off as you kiss him, feeling like the world has stopped. You hear something, and it takes you a while to realize that it’s coming from you, a moan slipping from you that he swallows. He groans as he deepens the kiss, pulling you into him until he can’t anymore. 

You’re nearly on your toes because of how tall he is, and you wish this moment would never end, but it does shortly after, and you feel yourself chasing after Sero when he pulls away. “You okay?” he teases, seeing how hard you’re breathing, the glossy look in your eyes making him want to stay.

You nod, and he easily lets you pull him toward you again, kissing him just as hard until you have to pull away to catch your breath. You want to tell him that your roommate isn’t here, but you feel like that might be too fast, and the other part of your body screams at you for being an idiot.

“Text me when you get into your room, okay?” 

“Okay,” you giggle, feeling giddy and like you’re on top of the world. “Text me when you get home,” you add, and he kisses you again quickly. Fuck, he’s got to leave before he gets ahead of himself. “See you later, Hanta,” you say warmly.

“I’ll see you soon, baby.”

You watch him get into his car and drive off before you go into your building, and you’re so tired that you don’t bother to change out of your clothes, only taking your shoes and socks off. You text Sero before you lay down, and you fall asleep almost immediately, but not without a smile on your face.

~

The first thing you think when you wake up is that the after-effects of drinking absolutely suck ass. You groan at the headache you feel, and you’re about two steps from throwing up. You grab your phone to see what time it is, and that’s when you see a text from Sero.

Good morning, beautiful

Text me when you get this

You smile at it, texting him back as you wonder if you have any pain medicine in your dorm. You set your phone on your bed, getting up slowly so you don’t throw up last night’s dinner, and you start your search. As you’re looking, you’re remembering everything that happened last night, and you feel embarrassed about how you acted at Sero’s house.

You stop in your tracks, letting your face fall in your hands as you think about you nearly pounced on him last night, a loud groan following as you think about it. But then you’re immediately smiling when you think about how the night ended, and your embarrassment is subsided a little. Before you can start looking again, you get a text. You grab your phone, seeing that it’s Sero, and you panic a little when he tells you that he’ll be over in about twenty minutes.

You dash to the bathroom, brush your teeth, get in the shower and fix your hair, and put on some clean clothes. Right as you finish putting lotion on, he texts you that he’s here. You take a deep breath, to calm both the nerves and the nausea, and you head downstairs.

When you walk outside, he’s standing there with food in his hand, and you sigh at the sight of it. You hug him when you get to him, and he hands you the food as he leans down to kiss you softly. “You sleep well?” he asks, and you nod, looking in the bag to see what he got you.

He follows you to your dorm, and you’re glad that you cleaned all of your clothes before leaving last night. He sits with you on your bed as you eat, and you nearly moan when you finally start eating, totally forgetting to last night since you were so tired.

“Is your head hurting?” Sero asks, and you nod, balling the bag up once you’re done eating.

“I haven’t had time to find my pain medicine,” you tell him, and he pulls out a bottle from his pocket.

“I brought it just in case.” You smile, grabbing it from him and taking the medicine. Once you swallow the pills, you throw your trash away before finding your spot next to him on your bed. You don’t know if you should talk about what happened last night or what the events could mean, but Sero starts talking as you think. “So, what do you remember from last night?”

“Everything,” you admit honestly, biting your lip as you once again think about how you acted last night. “Sorry about how I acted. I don’t know what came over me,” you apologize, and he chuckles softly, opening his body toward you.

“Don’t apologize,” he starts, “it was nice to see that shy side of you disappear.” You laugh a bit, putting your face in your hands anyway, figuring it’s going to take a while for you to finally get over your embarrassment. “But, you’re also really cute when you’re shy,” he whispers, pulling your hands from your face.

“Do you really like me?” you find yourself asking, ignoring his previous words even though your face is about to catch on fire.

“Yeah, I do,” he states. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.” He’s so close to you, and you want to kiss him again, but now that the alcohol isn’t in your veins anymore, you don’t know if you can bring yourself to do it. “What are you gonna do about that?” he questions, and for a brief second, you wonder what he’s talking about, but then it dawns on you. 

You carefully lean forward, softly planting your lips on his. You feel the same way you felt last night, those feelings are even stronger now that you know your feelings are reciprocated. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, deepening the kiss just a little before he smiles. “Your roommate coming back?”

“She moved out,” you answer quickly and his smile widens.

“Good.” He kisses you again, shifting your body so that you can fully lay down on the bed, and you revel in the feeling of his weight on top of you. He laces his fingers with yours before moving them above your head as he gently lets his tongue touch your lips. You easily let him in, finding yourself moaning again as his tongue swirls with yours. 

Your heart is racing as your body heats up, feeling overwhelmed already from just kissing him. You slide your hands out of his so that you can wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to feel more of him on you. His fingers run under your shirt now that they’re free, and a deep shudder runs through your body when his fingertips ghost over your skin. 

He pulls away, kissing under your chin and down your neck, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. Your stomach caves in a little when he runs his big hands over it, and you want him to do more, but he doesn’t, keeping his lips on your skin.

“Hanta,” you whisper.

He lifts his head up to look at you, smiling at the look on your face, but his hands don’t stop moving. “What’s up?” You don’t know if you’ll be able to voice out loud what you want, biting your lip a little as you look off to the side. He uses one of his hands to guide your eyes back to his, and your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Talk to me, baby. What d’ya want?”

“More,” you mumble after a while, and he raises a playful eyebrow at you. You don’t think he heard you at first since he doesn’t respond right away, but he speaks before you can think to say anything again.

“More what?” he presses, and you’re pretty sure he knows what you mean, but he makes no move to prove that. “I’m no mind reader, sweetheart,” he muses, and you pout a little, trying to get the courage to tell him what you want.

“I want you to touch me,” you try, and his fingers push against your skin lightly.

“I’m already doin’ that.” Your frown deepens, and you want to wipe that grin off his face.

You huff softly. “I want you to touch me more,” you eventually say, and you hope he gives in because you don’t know if you can say anymore, your face feeling like it’s about to be on fire. 

“More how?” he questions softly, and he moves his hands up your torso slowly, his fingers reaching under your bra. You nearly jump when his fingers brush over the underside of your boob, and you slightly push your chest up into his touch. 

He sits up suddenly, and you fight the urge to whine at the loss of heat as he pushes your shirt up lazily. It’s like he’s moving in slow motion, starting at your stomach again before running his fingers up and over your bra. “You want me to touch you more here?” he asks, putting a little bit of pressure on the fabric where your nipple is, and you jump at the sudden stimulation, nodding your head as you stay silent.

He uses both of his hands to run over your nipples, but the barrier between your skin and his fingers makes you even more frustrated. “Hanta,” you huff.

“What? You told me to.”

“You’re not touching me,” you argue softly. “You can take it off,” you manage, and you almost stumble over your words, surprised that you can even get them out.

“Can I now?” he teases, but he moves his hands under you to unhook your bra, and he helps you take your shirt off before sliding the straps off your arms and letting it fall to the floor. He’s just staring at you, and you can’t help but squirm as his silence goes on.

“What?” you whisper, moving your arms to try and hide, but he quickly catches them, moving back down to the bed.

“You’re so beautiful, that’s what,” he eventually says, and you would cover your face if you could.

“Oh,” you say timidly.

“I can touch you, right?” he asks, and you nod quickly, feeling like he’s been teasing you this whole time. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes, Hanta.” His hands are soft against your skin when he touches you again, gently massaging your chest before his fingers run over the hardened peaks, and you jump against your will, moaning softly.

“You’re so sensitive,” he whispers, applying a bit more pressure before he lets his head fall to your chest. You can’t help but moan again when you feel his tongue swirl around one, continuing the stimulate the other one by rolling it between his fingers.

You start to squirm at the sudden pleasure, never experiencing this feeling before, and it almost feels overwhelming. You feel your breath getting caught in your chest when he switches, kissing your skin in between as he goes. Your fingers slide into his hair like you’re trying to find an outlet to try and release how good you’re feeling. 

Sero can only smile against you as he feels you moving under him, lifting his head up as he lets the sounds you’re making fill his ears. When he makes eye contact with you, you look away, fighting the urge to cover your eyes. He puts his mouth on you again while his other hand trails down your body, and he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts.

The movement has you jolting a bit, and he lifts his head up to look at you again. “Is this okay?” he whispers, and when you hesitate to answer, he’s sitting up a bit, moving until he’s hovering over you. He laces his fingers with yours before he kisses you softly.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. We can go as fast or as slow as you want,” he reassures.

“I’m just nervous,” you mumble.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he reassures. “But just say the word right now, and we’ll stop, and we can do something else.”

“We can keep going,” you start. “And you can take them off.”

“You sure?” You nod quickly, and he doesn’t push you to speak, kissing you again instead. You feel his hands ghost down your sides, and when he gets to your shorts, you tense up against your will. “Relax, baby,” he whispers against your lips, and he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. “Can you breathe for me?”

He takes a deep breath in that you copy, following him when he breathes back out. You’re not as tense as you were before, but he can still feel it. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, pretty girl. We don’t have to rush anything, we got all the time in the world.” 

“What if I don’t like it?” you find yourself asking. You don’t think that’s really going to be the case, but there’s something that’s stopping you, and you’re trying to figure out why.

“Then I’ll stop, and we can do something else,” he repeats, and you know that you don’t want to stop. You take another deep breath, allowing yourself to fully relax. “I’m not gonna do anything that’s gonna hurt you or anything you don’t want.”

You hold his gaze for a bit before you give him a small nod. “...okay.”

“So, what do you wanna do?”

“I wanna keep going,” you answer softly. “I’m sure, I’m just in my head a little,” you admit.

“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any time, okay?” he tells you again, and he smiles at you when you nod. You lift your head up just a bit, and you don’t need to say anything, Sero already leaning down to meet your lips. You sigh softly into the kiss when you feel his hands at your chest again, letting the pleasurable feeling keep your body relaxed.

Now that you’re feeling a bit better, you’re eager for Sero to touch you more, moving your hips just a little in hopes that he gets the hint. You don’t know if it works, but you feel one of his hands move down until it hits your shorts. He waits a little bit for any shift in your body language, and when he doesn’t feel anything that raises concern, he grabs the waistband of your shorts.

You lift your legs up to help him take off your shorts, and he lets them fall out of his hands as his eyes land on you again. He’s just staring at you, and you can’t close your legs because his hands are on your legs, keeping them open.

“W-Why are you staring at me?” you ask, gripping the sheets in your hand by your sides.

“Cause you’re so pretty, baby. Why else would I?” he answers, but he doesn’t look you in the eyes when he does. “All of you is so pretty,” he whispers, and he shifts so that his face is closer to your pussy. “Can I touch you?” 

You tense again just a little, but this time in anticipation, finding yourself taking another deep breath. “Yes.” You’re nearly breathless, and you don’t even know why, and he rubs over your legs, gasping a little when they go towards the crease where your thighs meet your hips.

“Just relax, baby. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.” He lays down so that his chest is fully on the bed, and he continues to rub over your skin while he kisses down your thighs. He grabs your legs so that they sit on his shoulders, and you watch as he leans in closer to you, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath in, the action making your face flame. “God, you smell so good,” he mumbles against your skin, his nose in your bush, and you don’t even know if you’d be capable of saying anything due to how flustered you are.

You jump when he suddenly licks at your clit, your surprise only making you gasp. He does it again, and this time you moan, feeling his hands tighten around your thighs when you start moving. Once he starts, he doesn’t stop, his tongue never leaving you, and you try to bite your lip to conceal the noises you’re making, hearing how loud you’re getting.

When he pulls away, you think he’s giving you a break, but not even seconds after his tongue leaves you, he rubs his thumb over your clit. Your toes curl, feeling your body move into the pleasure at the same time it’s trying to move away from it. He rubs his fingers through your folds as he continues to circle at your clit, and your hands are starting to hurt by how tight you're gripping your sheets.

“You okay with me touching you more?” he asks, and you nod quickly, more caught up in your enjoyment than his words. You jolt when you feel his finger prod at your hole, and your body tenses up again without a second thought. “Just relax. I got you,” he reassures, rubbing over your thigh again. 

As he pushes his finger inside of you, he keeps his eyes on you, but you let your head fall back, feeling your brain being split between focusing on relaxing and the new feeling of your walls being stretched. “You okay?” 

You can only let out a breathy answer, giving him enough to let him know that he can keep going. You can’t really tell how wet you are, but the fact that you can hear his finger sliding in and out of you is enough to tell you. The feeling of you being stimulated from the inside feels foreign and a little weird, but it’s outweighed by how good it feels.

Sero puts his mouth back on your clit as he slides in another finger, and you wince a little at the burn you feel from the stretch, but it doesn’t last long because he curls his fingers, pressing firm on your walls. You let out a surprised yelp that delves into a moan, a bit embarrassed that you made the noise, and you cover your face as the squelching gets louder.

You can hear Hanta moving, feeling his finger rubbing at your clit again as he starts to speed up his fingers inside of you. Your moans become uncontrollable when it starts to feel like he’s reaching into the deepest part of you, and your arm slides over your mouth. He’s quick to pull your arm away, and he guides your face to his with his fingers on your chin.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he whispers, and it takes you a moment, but you eventually do, even if your eyes want to close because of how good he’s making you feel. “Why you hiding from me?”

“B-Because,” you try, softly grabbing onto his wrist when you feel your pleasure starting to mount. “I sound weird,” you rush out, your mouth falling open as your eyes slip closed.

“Weird?” Sero muses, a sly grin appearing on his face. “You sound like music to my ears.” He leans down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he swallows every sound you’re making. He slides one of his legs to the side, pushing it into yours when your legs start moving a bit too much for his liking.

You pull away when it seems like he’s going even deeper inside of you, and that’s when you start to feel it. You can’t really explain it, but in the back of your head, it kind of worries you, and your grip on Sero’s wrist tightens. “H-Hanta, w-wait,” you moan even though he doesn’t stop, but you don’t think you want him to. “I f-feel weird.”

“Is that a good weird or bad weird?” he questions playfully.

“I d-don’t k-know,” you whine, feeling tears at your lash line, and you throw your head back onto your pillows, words the last thing you want to try and form. 

“It’s okay, baby. Just let it happen,” he coaxes softly, and you can barely hear him, only really hearing your heartbeat in your ears. It feels like something’s building up right below your tummy, and this is something you’ve never felt before. It’s honestly starting to scare you, but focusing on Hanta’s words helps that feeling diminish.

You finally start to figure out what it feels like, but you don’t think you can warn him in time. “Hanta!” That’s the last thing you can get out, feeling whatever was building up snap quickly. Your back arches off the bed, your moans so loud, you’re pretty confident that your neighbors could hear you, but right now, you don’t give a fuck.

Your legs tremble violently, but Sero keeps moving his fingers, moving with you so that he can do so. You quickly push at his hand as you roll onto your side, feeling like you’re completely overwhelmed by the sensitivity. He finally gives you some peace, sliding his fingers out of you, and you’re breathing like you just ran a marathon. 

You roll back onto your back, letting your legs stay open since your core is so sensitive, and when you look down, you see that not only your sheets are soaked, but so is Hanta. You quickly remember that feeling you had right before you came, and embarrassment swallows you whole. Your face falls, and you immediately put your hands over your face, but you can’t roll over and hide like you want to because Hanta’s in between your legs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you hear him ask, but all you can do is shake your head, wanting a giant hole to swallow you up right now. “Are you okay?”

You jump when you feel his hand on your thigh. “I can’t believe I just did that,” you whisper, and it’s loud enough that Hanta can hear it.

“Did what? Squirt?” You freeze a bit before you slowly let your hands fall from your face.

“What?” He carefully sits you up by pulling you by your arm before he kisses you softly, having a hard time concealing his chuckle.

“You squirted, sweetheart. You didn’t pee on me,” he explains, and he really can’t hide his laugh. “It’s totally natural.”

“O-Okay,” you murmur, and he kisses you again, deepening it a bit.

“And it was really hot,” he whispers against your lips, and you feel your face heat up once again. “Wanna see if I can make you do it again.” You gasp softly at his words, and you feel his hands run up and down your thighs. “Not right now, of course,” he adds. “Did you feel good?”

You nod, feeling a quick wave of arousal run through you at how good it was. You’ve never cum like that before, and you don’t think you can ever go back. “What about you?” you ask after a while, glancing down at his shorts, and your eyes widen a bit when they land on the very obvious bulge in between his legs.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he says, and you frown a little bit at that.

“But I want you to feel good too,” you respond and he groans softly.

“Yeah?” You nod again, feeling shy at what you might have to do, but then he’s pushing you down softly. “Then just lay there for me, okay?” You move back until you’re fully laying down on the bed, and you watch as he sits up on his knees before shoving his shorts down his body. Your mouth falls open a bit when your eyes finally land on him, and you’re having a hard time looking away. “You like?” he teases, and you don’t have to hide your nod.

His fingers are still wet from your release, but he slides them into his mouth anyway, moaning softly when your taste floods his tastebuds. He glances at you, smiling when he sees that you’re watching him, and he breathes out of his nose when he wraps his hand around his dick.

You sit up on your elbows before you fully sit up, your face inches away from his shaft, and you really get a good look at it. You’ve seen your fair share of dicks unfortunately at the hands of unsolicited dick pics, but this is the first one you’ve seen in person. And you don’t know if it’s because you’re really attracted to him, but it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

He’s so long, the tip being a pretty pink, and your eyes follow the veins that go from the tip all the way down to his balls. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he questions, and you tear your eyes away to look at him. 

“I wanna touch you,” you mumble, and his movements falter for a split second at your words. He grabs your hand, and you feel yourself clench around nothing when he slides your fingers into his mouth. You watch as he guides your hand, and you quietly hum at how hot it feels. You wrap your hand around him, just wanting to feel him in your hand, and he bites back a moan.

You’re definitely out of your element here, but you move your hand anyway, trying to copy what he was doing moments before. “Am I doing okay?” you ask, looking up at him, looking at him so eagerly yet completely innocently.

“Jesus,” he breathes, feeling like he might bust in two seconds. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing great,” he answers with a quick nod. “You can go a little bit faster.” You do what he says, and he balls his hand into a fist, letting out a soft groan. Honestly, this is probably the best handjob he’s ever gotten. It doesn’t (or does) help that you’re looking at him like that, and he can feel himself twitch in your hand. 

You tighten your grip just a little whether you meant to or not, and he lets his head fall back on his shoulders as he swears. He decides he definitely wants to look at you when he cums, and he grabs your hand to stop you even though he absolutely does not want you to. “Was that good?”

“Yeah, but I just want you to lay there and look pretty for me,” he says, and you lay back down, spreading your legs a little, and he groans at the image under him. He’s quick to put his hand back on him, pulling the bottom of his shirt up into his mouth. His pace is pretty quick since he’s so close, and he keeps his eyes on you, seeing how you’re watching the tip of his dick disappear under his hand on the downstroke.

“Fuck,” he moans, and his breath catches as he watches your hands migrate toward your chest. His hips buck as he watches you roll your fingers over your nipples, and you moan softly at the feeling. “Shit, baby, keep touching yourself for me.”

You move one of your hands down your body, your fingers slowly inching towards your clit, and he waits in anticipation, his dick twitching again when you finally start rubbing that bundle of nerves, moaning a little bit louder as your toes curl. “M still sensitive,” you admit, and he huffs out a laugh.

“I know, angel, but you look so good.” He swears again, his tip leaking even more. “God, the things I wanna do to you.” He starts to curl in on himself when he feels that knot building up in the base of his spine, his hips bucking into his hand. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He doesn’t stop, his breath catching in his chest before he finally falls over that crest. He fucks himself through his orgasm as he spills on the sheets and over your legs. 

He keeps going until his nerves tingle from the overstimulation, and he lets his head fall back on his shoulders as he catches his breath. “Holy shit,” he sighs, quickly lifting his head and leaning down with his body hovering over you. He kisses you, lacing his clean fingers with yours and sliding his tongue in your mouth. He rests his head against yours after he pulls away, and he can’t wipe the smile off of his face.

“Did you feel good?” you ask softly, and he chuckles quietly, squeezing your hands.

“Yeah, that was amazing.” You give him a shy smile, and he can’t help but kiss you again. He gets up shortly after to clean you and himself up, and he tells you to hop in the shower while he changes your sheets. When you get out, he’s already changed clothes, and he pulls you into your bed. You laugh but go with him anyway, squeezing into your tiny bed. 

He moves you to lay on top of him, and you quickly find yourself drifting off. He’s rubbing over your back, and you feel him kiss the top of your head, his breathing lulling you to sleep.

You really don’t know what to call your relationship with Sero. You never got around to asking him, and now it’s been a week since the events that went down in your dorm. You know that he feels the same way about you, but you don’t know if that means that he actually wants to date you. Honestly, the thought of just being friends with benefits with Sero leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

Besides your schoolwork, that sinking feeling is what clouds your thoughts nearly every day. You’re scared to ask him because you’re afraid of hearing something that you don’t want to hear. You still hang out with him, but you haven’t spent any time alone with him since you’re usually with your friends. He always sits next to you, keeping his arm around you, but that’s as far as it goes. You don’t know if your friends know anything, but the more you spend time around Sero, the more conflicted you feel.

You’re in the library tonight, trying to make up for lost time since you didn’t really get a lot of studying today, but you can’t focus. You try everything; playing music, playing one of your favorite shows, even going so far as to not play anything, but nothing works. You sigh heavily as you put your elbows on the table, rubbing over your head.

“Looks like somebody’s studying too hard,” you hear, and you turn your head to see Hanta standing behind you. Your heart skips and sinks all at the same time, but you smile at him anyway, hoping you're masking your inner turmoil.

“I was trying to make up for not studying earlier, but it’s not really working,” you say, looking back at your work. You sigh again right before you feel his hands on your shoulders, and you feel yourself relax as he massages them a little. 

“Come on, let’s get you outta here,” he whispers, and you feel yourself hesitate, talking to try and buy yourself some more time.

“Where are we going?” you ask, turning to look at him when his hands slide off your shoulders.

“We could go back to my place,” he offers, and your face warms almost instantly.

“I’m not really in the mood for…” you start, and he smiles at you, leaning down so that his face is in front of yours.

“Mood for what?” he teases, and you can’t bring yourself to say it in the middle of the library but he keeps talking. “Don’t worry, baby. I wasn’t thinking of anything else. If you go back to your dorm, you’ll just try and study until your brain hurts.”

He has a point, and you sigh internally that he doesn’t want to do any of what you did last week. You think about it, but that part of you that likes him so much ultimately makes the decision for you. “Okay,” you respond, and you start packing your stuff up.

He grabs your hand after you stand and put on your backpack, and you both walk out of the library. You’re quiet as you walk to his car, suddenly surrounded by a tornado of thoughts. He doesn’t call you on it, even when you’re quiet all the way to his house. 

“Lemme give you a tour,” he says when he opens the door to his house. You both take your shoes off at the door when you close it, and you follow him into the house. “You already know the kitchen and the living room,” he starts, and he gestures to the sliding doors further into the house. “Backyard.”

He shows you the bathroom downstairs before you follow him upstairs. There’s another bathroom, his room, and he stops in front of another door when you walk further into the hallway. “And this is my art room.” He opens the door, gesturing for you to go first. The first thing that fills your nose is the strong smell of paint, and you look around when he turns the light on.

There are painting all over the room, some of them hanging on the walls, and there are papers on the floor in a couple of corners of the room. The desk he has is covered with stacks of sketchbooks, and you can see where he keeps all of his supplies in the bookcase that lines one of the walls. “This is really nice,” you comment, stopping in the middle of the room where one of his easels is. 

You walk over to one of the paintings that you can see, carefully running your fingers over it. “This is so beautiful,” you whisper, and you freeze for a bit when you feel Sero wrap his arms around you.

“You can have it if you want,” he says, and you look at him over your shoulder.

“Really?”

“Of course. You inspired it after all.” You look over it again, seeing the flowers that he picked from the bush that one day all over the painting. They’re all different sizes, and you squint, leaning your head forward as you really look at it.

“Is that…me?”

“I was wondering how long it was gonna take you,” he chuckles, and you can definitely start to see it now. Even though the flowers cover the painting, the negative space around them creates an image of you. “Painted it that night,” he adds.

“What are you gonna call it?” you ask, trying your best to keep your negative thoughts at bay.

“I dunno yet, even though there are a million words I could use to describe how beautiful you are.” It takes absolutely no time for your face to go warm, glancing at the painting before you look down at the floor, having a hard time concealing your smile.

But it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to derail. He could honestly be saying all of these things just to say it. There could be no meaning behind them, only an intention to keep you here. And it’s working. 

Your smile falls, and Sero spins you around in his arms before he kisses you softly. “C’mon, there’s one more place I wanna show you.”

He takes your hand, and you follow anyway even though you want to leave and crawl in your bed. He turns the light off, walking you further down the hallway. You can see a door, the windows covered with some curtains, but you don’t say anything. Sero stops at the door, pulling you so that you’re now in front of him.

“Open it,” he urges softly. 

You open it, stepping through the door slowly as you realize that you’re on a small balcony. But it’s decorated with string lights, and there’s a blanket in the middle. Your mouth falls open softly as you take it in, seeing that there are a couple of baskets on the blanket.

“What is all this?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer, instead ushering you to sit down. He sits down next to you, pulling out all of the food he packed in the baskets, and you truly don’t have any words. 

When he’s done, he hands you a plate, and you silently fill it, wondering what’s going through his head. He does the same, but he sets it down quickly after, grabbing your attention by gently wrapping his fingers around your leg. He scoots closer to you, moving your legs so that they’re in between his.

“You know you’re really good at wearing your thoughts on your face,” he tells you softly, and you chew on your lip as pick at the edge of your plate.

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” you say, forcing a chuckle, and he takes your chin in his fingers so that you’re looking at him again. 

“Not for me because then I know when something’s wrong.” He keeps talking after you don’t respond. “I should’ve made this clear from the beginning, but I don’t want just a sexual relationship with you. I feel a lot for you.”

You take in his words, but that insecurity is still eating at you. “Isn’t that too fast?”

He smiles softly. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You answer in your head almost immediately. Of course, you do. It’s what happened with your parents. They met each other in college and have been inseparable since.

You nod shortly after he asks you. “Then I wouldn’t consider this too fast. At least not on my end.” He grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “But if this is too fast for you then that’s okay.”

You shake your head, but you don’t say anything right away. “It just feels weird, I guess. I dunno how to describe it,” you eventually say even though you know it probably doesn’t explain anything. “I’ve never done anything like this before or really liked someone. I guess I’m just protecting myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Sero responds. “But you don’t have to feel bad about stuff like that. There’s a first time for everything. And we can go as slow or as fast as you want.” You give him a small smile, your mind finally letting his words go to heart.

If Sero just wanted to keep this relationship casual, you probably would’ve gone with it until you weren’t satisfied anymore. But at the same time, the thought of only being someone who only warms his bed made you feel horrible. Maybe it was love at first sight, and you just didn’t know it yet. Hearing how he actually feels about you made your heart race once it finally hit you.

“I’m just relieved that you feel that way,” you admit. “I don’t know if I would be okay with anything else.”

“You coulda just talked to me about it, baby.”

“I know, but I was afraid of your answer. I was worried you were gonna say something that I wasn’t gonna be happy with.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell you again,” he starts, setting your plate aside and grabbing both of your hands before he kisses over your skin. “I really like you, and I want you to be mine. If you’ll have me.” You can’t help but smile from ear to ear, leaning forward to kiss him, and he meets you halfway.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask someone on a date before you bring them to one?” you ask playfully when you pull away.

“Let’s say I was just being optimistic,” he jests, and you laugh softly before you start eating.

The balcony faces the city, and with the sun going down, you can see how bright it is even from far away. You and Sero talk about anything and everything until you feel full, wondering how long it’s been since you’ve even eaten anything today. 

When you’re done, Sero leans back against the house, pulling you with him so you can sit in between his legs. You lean back against him, and he wraps his arms around you, letting them rest on your lap. 

You let your head fall back on him as you sigh, letting everything you were worried about wash over you. It seems a bit silly that you were worried about anything in the first place, but you don’t put too much blame on yourself. You don’t know how long you sit outside just listening to the sounds of the city, but eventually, you feel yourself getting tired.

When Sero offers for you to just stay at his place for the night, you don’t protest since it’s the weekend. He cleans up everything on the balcony while you get ready in the bathroom, and he gives you a shirt to sleep in when he gets done.

You feel like you could fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillows. Sero turns off the lights after he closes the door, sliding into the bed next to you. He wraps his arm around you, and a smile pulls at your face when you feel him kiss your forehead. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Night, Hanta.”

You didn’t really have any expectations going into your relationship with Hanta mostly because you had never dated someone before. You felt like there were obvious things you would want out of a relationship, but when it came to dating specifically, you didn’t really know what you were expecting.

You were honestly a little worried that Hanta would feel a certain type of way because of that fact, but you both talked everything out, and it definitely helped your doubts. It was a little awkward for you to talk about everything, but once it was all out in the open, you were glad you had the conversation in the first place.

Even without dating in the past, you knew that you weren’t that big on PDA, and Sero was completely okay with that. You didn’t mind holding hands with him or whenever he would wrap his arm around you when you were sitting together, but you did mind kissing him whenever you had to part ways. It’s just not something you’re comfortable with, and Hanta never pushes you to do so which always makes you feel better. But if he feels like there are little to no people in the near vicinity, he’ll sneak a quick one before walking off to his next class. 

Being with Sero makes you ridiculously happy, to the point where you find yourself smiling almost all the time until your face hurts. Even your friends that you had before you met Mina called you out on it. You honestly hadn’t caught up with them in a while since you don’t really share any of the same classes, and they were practically drowning you with questions once you spilled that you’re dating someone now.

You didn’t really make a big deal about telling everyone once you started dating, and you already had a feeling that your friend group knew anyway, so you never got around to mentioning it to anyone else. Sometimes, in the back of your head, you still have a little bit of doubt, like all of this isn’t real, but whenever you spend time with Hanta, that voice becomes minute.

You’re already nearing the halfway point of the semester which means your birthday’s coming up soon. It always seems to come up out of nowhere especially when you’re surrounded by a bunch of schoolwork along with midterms. You don’t really like to announce when your birthday is coming up, sometimes never really caring for the attention it sometimes brings.

“So, what are your birthday plans?” Hanta asks, and you shrug as you type up the essay you have to write, finishing your thought before you turn your attention to Hanta.

You’ve been spending a lot more time at Hanta’s place, only staying at your dorm if your schedules don’t add up well. You’d say you’ve practically moved into his house, most of your stuff cluttering nearly every room. Sero surely doesn’t mind you staying and spending the day and night with him since that means he just gets to see you more.

“I wasn’t really planning anything, honestly,” you answer, sliding away from Hanta’s desk before spinning around in the chair. He’s sitting on the bed with a sketchbook, the pencil resting behind his ear.

“Really? But it’s your birthday.” You chuckle softly, standing up and walking over to the bed. You decide that you’ve done enough work for now, and a break is much deserved. You sit down, copying the position he’s in as you rest your back against the headboard.

“Well, parties always seem to fall apart whenever I try to plan them, and my birthday falls on a weekday this year anyway,” you say. “Usually the only thing I try to worry about is not crying on my birthday since it happens almost every year,” you add with a laugh, but there’s nothing that Sero finds funny about that.

He frowns a bit before he pulls you towards him, and you don’t know what he’s trying to do at first until he tugs at your thigh softly. You shake your head but move anyway, straddling him, and he pulls you into a hug before you can barely settle down. “You shouldn’t be crying on your birthday, angel,” he whispers into your hair, and you huff before you pull back to look at him.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s not like I can control what happens on my birthday.”

“But it’s your birthday,” he emphasizes, and you smile even though you can feel the bad memories of past birthdays sneaking up into your mind.

“So? To everyone else, it’s just another day.” He doesn’t seem too happy with your answer, but he doesn’t question you about the subject anymore. He moves his hands to your face, pulling you down so that he can kiss you softly.

“I promise that you won’t cry anymore on your birthday as long as I’m here,” he declares, and it takes you by surprise for a split second. You can feel tears stinging your eyes, trying to come out, but you fight them for as long as you can. 

“That’s a big promise,” you tease, but you can’t stop the tears no matter how hard you try, and you drop the act almost immediately. Sero wipes them away gently, and you rest your forehead against his. “Thank you, Hanta.”

“Of course, baby.” 

You always try to play off how much that fact bothered you, but hearing what Hanta said just made you realize how many times you’ve actually cried. Some people might call you overdramatic, but you’ve always hated crying on your birthday, feeling like you shouldn’t be. Of course, you can’t control life, but the fact that it still happened bothers you.

But being here with Hanta right now tells you that his promise isn’t empty. 

~

You still didn’t make any plans for your birthday because your birthday was on the busiest day of your week, and with all the work you had, you wanted nothing more than to just be with Hanta and in bed once the weekend hit.

Honestly, the morning of your birthday started off great because the professor of your first class of the day canceled class the day before, so you didn’t have to wake up stupidly early. It was also nice because you woke up and Hanta was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes followed by a soft happy birthday.

He cooks you breakfast and you spend the morning with him until you have to finish the rest of your day on campus. When you had to go, you found yourself feeling more upset that you had to leave Hanta, but you knew that you’d see him once you both were done for the day. He drops you off, kissing you deeply before you get out of the car.

You thank him softly as you close the car door, giving him one last smile before you start walking to your class. You check your phone on the way, seeing that you’ve gotten messages from your friends and family, and you assume that Sero must’ve told his friends because the group chat you were added to is full of happy birthday texts.

You smile as you read them, sending a reply once you get into the lecture hall. You don’t lose your smile the entire time you’re sitting in class or the entire day for that matter. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been so happy on your birthday, and you wonder if anything could top it. You assume because you’re so happy is why the day goes by so fast; your lab being one of the quickest you and your partner have ever done.

You have to hold back from skipping out of the building, breathing in deeply before you start to walk to where you’re meeting Hanta. You try to hold it in, but once his car is in sight, you’re close to running over to it. 

“I’m guessing someone had a good day,” he comments when you get in, and you lean over the console to kiss him.

“It went surprisingly well. I got out of lab so early today.” He grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before he drives off, resting your hands on the console.

“I’m glad to hear that. You sure you don’t wanna do anything today? You have the time,” he asks, and you shake your head earnestly.

“No. I still have some work I need to finish up, and I wanna get it done so I don’t have to do anything this weekend,” you answer. “Also, I like spending time with you anyway.”

He smiles at that, kissing the back of your hand gently. When you get back to his house, you decide that you want to shower before you get into your work, wanting to decompress before you start working your brain. 

When you’re done and dressed, it doesn’t look like Hanta’s been in his room yet, and you hear your stomach rumbling. Eating hadn’t even crossed your mind today mostly because your body never told you that you were hungry and because the day when by so fast. You walk downstairs to try and find him so that you can ask him if he’s hungry too.

When you walk into the kitchen, you see that Hanta’s already got food on the table and before you can get his attention, you see that it’s from your favorite place. You walk up to him, wrapping your arms around him, and he jumps before you feel him relax against you. “You gave me a heart attack,” he laughs, and you smile as you let your head fall against his back.

“Sorry,” you mumble, and you loosen your grip a bit so that he can turn around. “Thank you for today, Hanta.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” he tells you softly, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “No tears today, right?” You smile widely as you shake your head. “Good,” he whispers. “You hungry?” You nod, staying quiet, and he pulls you to the table so that you can eat. 

The food seems to taste even better than it usually does, and that only seems to boost the amount of serotonin that’s running through your body. You both eat in comfortable silence, Hanta eventually breaking it when you ask him how his day went. You find yourself looking at him the entire time he talks, and this might be the first time that you’re thinking about how much you actually like him.

He’s been nothing but supportive since you met him; making sure you’re taking breaks when you’re studying, making sure you’re not studying too hard, and helping you out when you need it even though he never really understands what you’re doing. And now doing all this for your birthday. You wouldn’t say that your heart starts racing, but you definitely feel something run through you that feels amazing.

“I got one more thing for you,” he tells you, breaking you out of your thoughts. “But you have to close your eyes.” You playfully frown at him, but you do it anyway, hearing him shuffling around, the sound of plates being moved and stuff being opened filling your ears. You honestly have no idea what he’s doing, and then you hear a plate being set down in front of you. “You can open them.”

You slowly peel your eyes open, gasping softly when you see a cupcake with a candle on it. It’s nowhere near a birthday cake, but there’s not a single part of you that cares. Hanta sits down next to you again, scooting his chair closer to you before softly singing happy birthday. You’re smiling so big that your face is hurting, and he kisses you once he finishes singing.

“Make a wish, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips. You pull away, closing your eyes for a few seconds before you open them and turn to blow out the candle. “What’d you wish for?”

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” you say, laughing softly.

You wished that you could be this happy for the rest of your life, and you’re pretty sure that whether you tell Hanta or not, this feeling will never leave.

It’s the weekend already and you still feel like you’re on top of the world. Since you got a lot of work done, you’re not doing anything this weekend, and you spend most of your Saturday in bed with Hanta. You had absolutely no plans, only getting out of bed to eat and then throwing yourself under the covers right after.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go out today?” Hanta asks you softly, and you look up from your phone, locking it before you smile at him.

“I’m sure. I just wanna spend today doing nothing.” You move closer so you can kiss him, keeping it a little longer before you pull away, going back in to give him another one. "Doing nothing with you, of course," you whisper, shuddering a bit when you feel his fingers rubbing at your hip.

"Really?" he hums quietly, smiling a little as his hand finds its way under your shirt. His finger picks at the side of your underwear, and your toes curl at the motion. He lets his hand drift down your thigh as you nod, and a soft gasp leaves when his hand fits its way in between your legs.

"Well, what if I told you I had something planned today?" he says as his fingers ghost over your folds. 

"L-Like what?" you manage, your answer delayed when he pulls your underwear out of his way. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly slides his leg in between yours so that he can keep touching you. 

"Try and guess, baby," he teases as his finger rests at your entrance. You sort of hear what he says, but you're not totally focused on it, your attention mostly on his fingers. 

"I dunno," you mumble, your eyes closing as he slowly slides into you. He shifts, carefully maneuvering you onto your back as he speeds his fingers up, and you bite your lip to try and conceal your moans.

You've done stuff with Hanta since that day in your dorm, but you haven't slept together yet. That's not really a big deal for you, but you can't help but think about how it would feel. If he's making you feel this good just from his fingers then it'll probably be tenfold when he finally fucks you.

Even though you've been in this position before, you're still so shy about it, and that does more to Sero than he'd like to admit. All it takes is a circle of his fingers, and you're putty in his hands as you hide your face with whatever you can.

You try to put your arm over your face, but he puts a stop to that before you can even get to your face like he knew it was coming. You feel tears leaking out of your eyes when they screw shut as that familiar feeling in your stomach starts to form.

He carefully pulls your lip from between your teeth, allowing every sound you make to be fully audible to his ears. "H-Hanta, 'm–" Your breathing starts to become airy as your hand grabs onto his wrist. 

"Yeah, angel? You gonna cum?" he asks, waiting for your quick nod before he looks down at where his hand is disappearing inside of you. He can hear what his fingers are doing, the digits glistening every time he slides them out of you.

You start to move away from him slightly as the pleasure starts to become overwhelming, but Sero follows your every move. "C'mon, sweetheart, wanna see if I can make you squirt again."

You can't really hear what he's saying, your heart racing so fast you can hear it in your ears. You feel yourself gasp before your orgasm hits you like a truck, feeling like time stops before your legs start to shake as that knot snaps.

"Fuck, there it is," Hanta groans as you coat his wrist in your release. You're squeezing his fingers so tight that you nearly push him out, but he pushes through to let it run its course. "Such a good girl for me, angel."

You push at his wrist, whining his name until he finally slows down, the squelching you hear when he slides his fingers out is enough to make your already warm face even hotter. 

Your chest is heaving as Hanta's arm drips with your slick, and he slides his fingers into his mouth, groaning loudly as the taste of you fills his mouth. Your arms are resting over your face as you catch your breath, shivering when you feel it running down your legs.

"You made such a mess, baby," Sero whispers, and you can hear the smile he's wearing on his face, but you feel your face grow warm anyway, barely peeling your arms away.

"Sorry," you mumble, and his smile widens as he pushes at your arms softly. He kisses you once he gets your arms down, letting his tongue swirl in your mouth, and the kiss alone is almost enough to get you going again.

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. I love making you do it," he says against your lips. He rubs over your body, kissing your forehead. "You okay?" 

You give him a small smile as you nod, your legs quaking when you move them even the slightest bit. Your phone rings, scaring you a bit, and you feel around for it, seeing Mina's name on the screen.

"What's up?"

"I need you to go shopping with me today, I'll be there in twenty." And then she hangs up. You pull the phone away from your ear, scoffing as you put the phone down. Sero chuckles softly as you shake your head.

"That girl, I swear." It takes you a while to finally get out of bed, but when you do, you slowly make your way to the bathroom. You shower, wincing a bit at the sensitivity you're still feeling as you wash yourself.

You're dressed and ready right as Mina pulls up, and Sero gives you a kiss goodbye before you walk out of the door. "Have fun, okay?" You nod, giving him a hug before you walk out to Mina's car.

“Did I really have to tag along today?” you ask once you get in the car, and Mina rolls her eyes as she drives off.

“Of course, you did. I didn’t get to see you on your birthday.”

“Well, I did have class that day. I didn’t wanna do anything too crazy,” you say. Mina drives to the mall, saying that she needed someone with her so that she wouldn’t buy too much stuff along with wanting a second opinion on whatever she tried on.

You shook your head but went with her anyway, and you didn’t intend to buy anything of course, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look around. You walk around the store, nothing really catching your eye until your eyes land on a dress.

It’s nothing too over the top, but it could be for any occasion if you dress right. “You like it?” You jump at the sound of Mina’s voice next to you, looking over to see her arms filled with clothes.

“Yeah, it’s really cute,” you comment, running your hand over it so that you can feel the fabric.

“You should at least try it on then. Come on, I’m gonna try this stuff on too.” Once you grab the dress off the rack, she’s pulling you toward the dressing room. You wait for Mina to try on all of her stuff, and there are actually a few times when she needed a second opinion. She decides to get most of the stuff that she tried on, leaving the ones that she doesn’t want on the rack.

“Okay, your turn.” She nearly pushes you into a room, closing the door behind you. You try it on, turning around as you look at yourself in the mirror. It is really pretty, and you start to consider getting it when Mina softly knocks on the door. 

You laugh as you step out, letting her see it. “Oh, my God, you look so good! You should get it!”

“You think?” you ask, looking down at yourself.

“Yes! I’ll even buy it for you.”

“Mina, you don’t have to do that.”

She rests her hands on your arms. “Just think of this as your birthday present,” she responds. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Also, there’s a sale going on, and if I spend enough money I get rewards,” she adds when you start to look unsure.

“Only if you want to,” you relent, and she smiles widely before letting you go back into the room to take the dress off. 

You walk out of the store with just your dress in your hands while Mina has two bags. “So, was that all you had planned today?” You look over to see that Mina’s looking at her phone, and she looks up at you before pocketing her phone.

“I was thinking of getting some food. You hungry?” You shrug before you nod, and the both of you head over to the food court. Mina offers to get the food while you find a seat, and she brushes you off when you try to pay her back, using the birthday excuse again.

You don’t know how long you sit with her and talk about anything that comes up, continuing the conversation long after you’ve finished eating. You offer to throw her food away, and when you come back, she’s looking at her phone again. “Is everything okay?”

She looks up quickly. “Yeah, Denki’s just stressing about something that’s no big deal.” You chuckle as Mina collects her bags. You figured that she was done with what she needed, but then she proceeds to take you to almost every store that you pass by. You don’t mind it at first, but when you come out of the sixth store and she hasn’t bought anything, you start to get just a teensy bit annoyed.

“Mina, you haven’t bought anything in over an hour,” you speak up, and she looks at the time on her phone.

“Wow, time really does fly! I’m ready to go if you are.” You nod eagerly, sighing to yourself in relief. When you walk out of the mall, the sun is down which really tells you how long you’ve been out because the sun was about to set when you walked in.

Mina drives by her place to drop her stuff off, and she urges you to put the dress on. “It’s good to make sure you still like it,” she presses, and you put it back on without much of a fight, sighing when you walk back out so she can see it. “Perfect! We have one more place to go to.”

She grabs your arm, pulling you out of her house. “Mina, wait!” You didn’t even get to take the dress off, but she’s already locking her front door and pulling you to the car. You want to ask Mina what she has planned, but then she’s pulling into Sero’s driveway.

You can barely get out of the car before Mina pushes you towards the door. “Open it!” You give her a suspicious look but open the door anyway. You frown when you see how dark it is in the house especially when Mina closes the door, but before you can question in, the lights turn on. 

“Surprise!!” You jump when all of your friends jump out from where they were hiding, and you can see birthday decorations plastered all over the room. You’re frozen in shock for a little bit, only moving when Mina puts a sash and crown on your head.

“What in the world?” you find yourself asking as you walk further into the house. 

“Happy birthday!” Mina yells, giving you a hug. 

“You did all this?”

“Nope, this was all Sero’s idea.” Mina walks away as Hanta comes up to you, and you haven’t stopped smiling since the surprise was revealed.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he tells you, leaning down to kiss you.

“You purposefully had Mina get me out of the house for this?” you laugh, and he laughs with you as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Yep. Sorry, you were out for so long though, we got started later than I wanted.”

“I thought I was never gonna leave that mall,” you sigh, and he laughs again before gently pulling you towards the party. 

There aren’t a lot of people here, but it’s your closest friends and it’s more than enough. The crown and the sash are definitely overkill, but you make no move to remove them during the night. Almost everyone got you something, and even if it’s something small, you still love it regardless. Sero brings out a cake later on, and with everyone surrounding you, you feel that same feeling of happiness you were feeling earlier in the week.

Everyone cheers when you blow out the candles after they sing, and as Mina starts to cut the cake, you feel tears forming in your eyes. “What’s wrong?” Hanta whispers. He’s sitting next to you, turning your head toward him so that he can wipe your tears.

“I’m just really happy,” you say, sniffling as you smile widely. “Thank you for this, Hanta. I love it.” You lean over to kiss him softly, having a difficult time wiping the smile off your face.

“Of course, angel. I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

You stay glued to Hanta’s side for the rest of the night, sharing a slice of cake with him. He never leaves your side either, and the house is filled with laughter and conversation. You wish that this moment could last forever even though you know it won’t, but for the first time in a long time, you’ve really enjoyed your birthday. And it’s all thanks to Hanta.

“What?” he asks you when he catches you looking at him.

“Nothing,” you whisper, shaking your head. You don’t give him any more than that, and he doesn’t push you, tightening his arm around you as he kisses your forehead.

The end of the semester sneaks up on you a lot faster than you like. All of a sudden, you’re stacked with last-minute exams all the while preparing for your final exams. You spend a lot of time studying with Mina since the class you share is the first final exam you both have. 

You wouldn’t say you’re worried about it, but the content isn’t the easiest and the exam is cumulative which makes you a little bit uneasy. Luckily, it’s your hardest class this semester, so you have a little bit more room to allow this class to take up most of your study time. 

Sero's been busy as well, trying to finish up most of his projects before classes end. He volunteered to present his work at an art show the art department is hosting, but his professor suggested creating something new instead of presenting pieces he's already done.

Of course, he had talked about this with them way before the semester was coming to a close, but he couldn't really find any inspiration, and now he had nothing to present. He has maybe one painting that he might use, but it's not his best work.

You've been taking it easy the last couple of days since you and Mina thoroughly studied out your brains, so you won't see her anymore until you're taking the exam. This means you've been with Sero more, but you notice that he's still in his art studio even though he was there before you left.

You had been going back and forth from your dorm to the library and vice versa since you were studying, and as much as you loved spending time with Sero, you wanted to keep your mind clear and focused.

When you finally get back to his house, you slowly step into the art studio, seeing Hanta standing in front of a half-painted canvas.

"Have you been in here for the past couple of days?" you ask him softly when you walk up to him. He turns to you, and you easily let him fall into you, his head falling into your neck as his hands loosely rest on your hips.

"Yeah. I don't know what to do about this art show," he mumbles.

"Well, what you have so far looks good," you comment, turning your head a little to look at what he’s already drawn

"It's not good enough for me, though." 

“Maybe you should take a break,” you offer softly. “You’ve been working on this for a while. Maybe if you step back for a bit, something will strike.” You don’t know if he’s listening, but you start to move toward the door anyway.

You grab his hand once the distance between you starts to increase, but it takes a little bit of pulling on your part to get him to move. You pull him to his room, and you lay down on the bed first, pulling him onto the bed when he doesn’t move once you get comfortable.

He lays on top of you, and you turn the TV on, putting on one of your favorite shows before you set the remote aside. You run your fingers through Hanta’s hair while your other hand rubs over his back. Hanta sighs heavily but he focuses on the TV anyway, and he realizes how much he missed being with you. 

He hadn’t really been paying attention to how much time had passed because he was stressed about his work. He’s glad you pulled him out of there because he’s already starting to feel at ease, his shoulders aching when he relaxes from how long they’ve been tense. He can feel his eyelids growing heavy as he tries to watch the show, but he doesn’t keep it up for long, letting them fall closed.

Hanta swears that he only closed his eyes for a second, but when he opens them again, the TV is off, and it’s dark in the room. Hanta looks around, seeing that you’re not laying in the bed with him, and he looks at the clock on his nightstand to see that it’s late at night. He rolls over, feeling like he could sleep for longer even though he just found out he slept all day.

But then his stomach grumbles loudly, and he knows there’s no way he can go back to sleep now. He yawns loudly as he sits up, taking a couple more moments to wake up a little more before he stands. He brushes his teeth to get that taste out of his mouth before he heads toward the stairs. He’s looking for you as he makes his way down to the kitchen, and he can hear music coming from downstairs along with smelling something really good.

He yawns again as he gets to the kitchen, seeing you stirring something on the stove as you sway to the music that’s playing. He waits until you set the spoon down to try and get your attention, and you jump when you feel his hands at your waist.

“You really don’t make any noise when you walk,” you breathe, and Sero chuckles softly, looking over your shoulder to see what you’re making. “I’m pretty sure you’re starving, but I didn’t wanna wake you up. You were sleeping like the dead.”

“Yeah, I can’t remember the last time I’ve gotten some sleep,” he responds. You turn around with a small frown on your face.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Hanta,” you scold lightly, pressing your finger to his forehead gently. He smiles, grabbing your hand so that he can plant a small kiss on your skin.

“Yeah, I know. I just got too caught up…but it might happen again,” he admits, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Well, you should eat. I’m almost done.” He hums as you turn around, and you feel his arms wrap around you, but he doesn’t let you go. You shake your head, but let him stay since you’re almost done cooking anyway.

You make a plate for the both of you, and you carry both as Hanta stays attached to you until you get to the table. You wonder if he’ll make you sit in his lap since he seems to be super clingy right now, but he lets you have your own seat. It must’ve been a while since he’s eaten because you’ve barely made it halfway through your plate, and he’s already done. 

You made more just to be on the safe side and you’re glad you did. You offer to make him another plate once you finish up yours, handing him the plate before washing yours in the sink. You clean up the dishes you cooked with while Sero finishes eating. You sit on the counter while he washes his dish, and neither of you makes any move to start a conversation.

He dries his hands off before stepping in between your legs, and your hands slide over his shoulders. He leans down so that his face is inches from yours, and you both look at each other in the eyes, laughing softly. “Hi,” he whispers, letting his hands move under your (his) shirt.

“Hi,” you echo, and he kisses you gently. “Are you gonna be staying up again?” He sighs softly before he shakes his head, moving his arms so that he can rub over your thighs.

“I think I still need to take a break,” he answers. “Were you gonna go back to sleep?”

“No, I kinda took a power nap earlier, so I’m gonna be up.” He nods and you look around, looking back at Hanta as you smile. “I was gonna bake some cookies if you wanna do it with me,” you offer.

He chuckles as he steps back so you can get off the counter. You grab all of the ingredients you need, and he grabs all of the supplies you’ll need. When you went out to the store earlier in the week, you didn’t really know what cookies you wanted to make, so you both just make a handful of all of the ones that you wanted.

Making the batter takes longer than it should since Hanta either keeps trying to eat the raw batter or keeps hitting you with the flour. The latter causes flour to be all over both of you, the counter, and the floor. An hour has passed before you finally put all the cookies in the oven.

“You’re gonna have to clean all this up, you know?” you tell him as you wash your hands. He washes his hands after you before crowding you against the island.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muses before he grabs you by your hips to set you on the counter. “You just sit here and look pretty.”

“That was my plan,” you jest, and he smiles, kissing you on the forehead then your nose and lips before he starts cleaning. You listen to the music you’re still playing as the sweet smell of the cookies fills your nose. You both hum to the music as Hanta moves all the dishes into the sink so that he can wipe off the counters.

You slide off the counter to check on some of the cookies after you check the time on your phone, and you gently hip-check Hanta out of the way so you can open the oven. You laugh when he pokes you in your side, and you use the handle of a spoon to check if they��re cooked through.

One of the pans is finished, so you slide an oven mitt on your hand and pull them out. You set them on the stove as you close the oven. The pan has sugar cookies on them, and they were the first ones that you and Hanta made. Instead of sitting on the counter while you wait for them to cool off, you wrap your arms around Hanta, resting your head on his back.

You always talk about how clingy Hanta gets, but if you think about it, you’re probably doing it just as much as he does. You don’t know how to explain it; it just feels natural, like something that just feels right. Every time you’re near him, it just feels like your whole mood gets better. Sometimes, you don’t even realize how down your mood is until you’re in Hanta’s arms.

He’s almost done washing everything while you continue to check the cookies and take them out if they’re fully cooked. When you finally get the last pan out of the oven, you turn it off before you try a sugar cookie. Hanta turns to you right as you take a bite, and you hold it out to him for him to do the same. He takes a bigger bite than you did, so you let him have the rest of the cookie.

You both don’t eat all of the cookies since you just finished eating dinner, but you do eat a few from each pan. “Mm, I love this song,” Hanta says as he finishes a cookie. You finish yours as he grabs your hands to pull you to the living room so you can hear the song better.

You’ve never heard the song before, but you follow him anyway. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as he starts to slowly spin around in a circle. You let your arms loosely wrap around his neck as he softly hums the song. He sings the lyrics as he looks down at you, and you smile at him as you listen to him.

You close your eyes after a while, and you rest your head against his. It’s like time slows down as the song surrounds the two of you, and Hanta moves your head so that it’s resting on his chest. He rests his chin on the top of your head gently as he hums the song.

As the song comes to an end, you can feel the energy you got from your nap earlier running out, trying your best to conceal your yawn, but Hanta hears it. He doesn’t say anything, pulling you upstairs to his room. You practically flop onto the bed, feeling the rush of fatigue hit you suddenly. 

Sero slides into bed next to you after turning the lights off, and your blinking is already slow when he pulls the blanket over the both of you. “Goodnight, baby,” Hanta whispers before he huffs a bit. “Or good morning, I guess,” he adds, noting how the sunrise is starting to peak through the curtains.

You hum softly, a small smile appearing on your face for a bit before your face falls. “Goodnight, Hanta.”

~

When you wake up, you roll over before you notice that you’re alone in the bed. The sun is well up in the sky, and you would just go back to sleep, but you really have to pee. You groan softly, throwing the blankets off of you and stretching when you stand. After you use the bathroom, you decide to see where Hanta went.

You check his art studio first since it’s on the same floor, and you call his name softly as you push the door open. You walk in to see him painting, and he’s so focused that he doesn’t even hear you come in. You walk a little closer to him, calling his name a little louder so that you don’t scare him as you approach him.

He quickly looks over his shoulder, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he turns back around. “What’re you doing up?”

“I had to pee,” you tell him as you look at what he’s doing before you look over him, seeing that he’s covered in paint, having it all over his face, fingers, arms, and torso. “How long you been at it?”

“I only slept for like an hour, I dunno,” he nearly mumbles, and you don’t really press him with any more questions. 

Mina had warned you about this a while ago, telling you that whenever inspiration strikes, he’ll work until it’s finished, and there’s almost nothing that could break him from it. You decide you don’t want to get back into bed by yourself, so you grab a blanket from his room.

He has a couch in his studio, so you make yourself at home, laying down and curling yourself under the blanket. You watch him work, wondering what inspiration struck him since he was in such a slump not too long ago. You notice that he has the song that was playing last night that he was singing, and it makes you smile as the memories fill your head.

Once you settle into the couch, you can feel yourself starting to feel sleepy. You didn’t check the time when you woke up, but it doesn’t feel like you got much sleep, so you don’t fight it when it comes back.

When you wake up, Hanta is in the same position that you last saw him in. He seems to be working on something different, and you starting to think that he’s been at this for a while now. The music is still playing in the room, and your stomach grumbles a little when your body starts to shake the sleep off.

If you’re hungry, then Hanta has to be as well, but you don’t think you’d be able to pull him away for even a second. You go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you go downstairs to try and figure out what you want to eat. When you walk into the kitchen, you see that it’s completely empty, so Hanta must’ve put the cookies up earlier.

It’s nearly the afternoon, so you’re not really in the mood for breakfast, so you just decide to heat up dinner from last night. You make yourself a plate before grabbing two bottles of water and making your way back to the studio.

You set yours on the couch while you put the other one on the floor next to the easel that Hanta’s using, but not in a spot where he could knock it over. “Hanta, you should eat,” you try.

“In a minute, I promise,” he hums, and a smile pulls at the corner of your lip as you roll your eyes. You hold out some of the food on your fork in Hanta’s direction, and he barely registers that it’s there. You try to put it in his line of sight, and he eats it off the fork, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the canvas.

You feel a little better that he has something on his stomach even if it isn’t a lot, but you don’t want to risk ruining his painting, so you give him his space and sit back down on the couch. This is honestly how you spend the next couple of days. You try to get a little bit of food in Hanta’s stomach, and you notice that he’s drinking the water even though you’ve never seen him pick up the bottle.

You sleep on the couch whenever fatigue gets to you because you don’t want to be in a different room than Hanta, and you want to make sure that he doesn’t pass out or anything. Every time you wake up or walk back into the room, he seems to be covered in more paint than he was the previous time you saw him. Once a couple of days pass, you wonder if he’s going to make the deadline for the art show he mentioned.

You didn’t ask him if what he was painting was for that event because you were confident you weren’t going to get an answer from him. But you’re hoping that he’ll be done soon because you miss him. This is the first time since you’ve met that his attention has been on something longer than it’s been on you. You try to ignore the jealousy you’re feeling, but sometimes it can’t be helped.

You’ve dozed off again, and you can hear someone calling your name, but you’re trying to figure out if it’s coming from the real world or your dream world. As you start to become more aware of the voice, you can feel something rubbing at your cheek. You open your eyes slowly to see Hanta squatting down in front of you, his face level with yours.

“Hanta?” you mumble. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, I am,” he answers softly with a small smile. You look past him to see that he’s added another canvas to the three he already had. “Thank you for taking care of me, baby.”

You practically gush at the praise, that smile he always wears would make you melt like it always does if you weren’t laying down. “Of course. Can’t have my boyfriend passing out on me.”

He chuckles a bit as you yawn. “Why don’t you get in bed? I’m gonna shower, and I’ll be in there with you soon.” You make a noise of protest but slowly get up anyway. Hanta quickly kisses you on the forehead before you leave, and you make the short walk to his room, crashing on the bed once it’s in reach.

You pull the blanket up to your chin as you snuggle into the bed, getting comfortable since you’ve been sleeping on the couch for a while. You fight sleep for as long as you can, wanting to wait for Hanta to slide in next to you. You fall asleep eventually, not realizing it until you feel something running over your face.

You slowly peel your eyes open, Hanta’s face coming into view and becoming less blurry. “Hey, angel,” he whispers, and you smile weakly before moving closer to him. “Go back to sleep.”

“But I wanna talk to you,” you mumble. “I haven’t spent time with you in, like, days.” Your words are slow since you’re so tired, but you keep talking anyway. You lift your head up, resting your chin on his chest so that you can keep looking at him. “And I didn’t see you today because I had that exam.”

“Oh, shit. I forgot about that. I’m so sorry.” 

You slowly shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. I know you had stuff to do too.”

“So, how do you think you did?” he asks, smiling at how sleepy you are.

“I don’t think I did great, but I don’t think I failed either,” you respond. “But I hope that Mina passes because she’ll have to take the class again if she fails.”

“Ah, I’m sure she did fine,” Hanta says, wrapping his arm around you as he guides your head to lie down on his chest. “Now, go to sleep, baby. You’re stupidly tired.”

“Yeah, but I wanna talk to you,” you say softly even though you’re letting the fatigue take over.

“You can talk to me as soon as you get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

You went to the art gallery to see the paintings that Sero made since he wouldn’t let you see them until they were displayed. They were beautiful of course, and you were mostly impressed that he was able to finish four paintings in less than a week. Neither of you stayed long, and you helped him bring all of them back to his house.

He puts them up in his art studio, and you really look at them. “I can’t believe that you did this in so little time.”

“I had you to thank,” he says, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Having a muse is no joke.”

You laugh a little, shaking your head as you sink into him. “You always say that.”

“Cause it’s true,” he presses. “I made all of this because you were the one that pulled me away when I wasn’t making any progress. You inspired all of this.” You can’t help but smile, and when you really look at each one, you can see things in the paintings that relate to what you and Hanta had been doing for the last week.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” you respond softly, the beauty of his paintings really hitting you when you realize that they represent the two of you. God, you really like him, and by the looks of his art, he feels the exact same way.

Second semester is well underway, and you're so glad that you didn't stack it up this time. It's not exactly smooth sailing, but you're not drowning in work and due dates this time. Since Hanta will be graduating early, he's been doing a lot of work on his senior project, which takes up most of his time when he's really focused on it. The thought makes you upset if you think about it for too long, but Hanta's always making sure that you're not dwelling on it. Just because he's graduating doesn't mean that he'll be going anywhere.

By prioritizing your time, you give yourself a lot of free time on the weekends, which allows you to really reset before the next school week. You usually spend this time catching up on your Animal Crossing island or continuing your journey of reaching perfection in Stardew Valley. You hang out with your friends if you're feeling up to it, and sometimes you find yourself forcing Hanta to take a break when you notice he's been working for too long.

"Hanta, I know your hand is hurting like a bitch," you comment after you've seen him shake his hand multiple times as he looks over his work. "At least lay with me," you try, pulling softly on his wrist. "You've been working nonstop, you can't keep doing this."

He finally stands with a sigh, a tired smile appearing on his face when you look up at him, your smile beaming. You pull him into his room, and he lays on top of you when you get on the bed. You grab your switch as you start to explain everything that you've been doing so far in the games you're playing. His breathing starts to become more even, a little slower, so you lower your voice as you continue talking.

"I love you." You freeze mid-sentence because you were sure he was fast asleep. You pause your movements before you look down at him, and he's looking at you, his eyes half-open.

"What?" you whisper, his words finally starting to register in your head.

"I love you," he repeats. "You don't have to say it back, don't worry," he adds. "I just wanted to tell you because it's all I think about when I look at you." You let your hand fall to the side as he talks so that you can really look at him. "I really love you, like a lot."

You can tell he's about to fall asleep because his words are starting to jumble together, but you're still at a loss for words. "And I love when I wake up next to you, and I love how you take care of me," he continues before rubbing his face against your chest. "I really got lucky with you."

It's the last thing you hear him say before he finally goes to sleep, and you feel so overwhelmed with emotions, you don't know how to feel. You fight the tears in your eyes that you're certain came from your overwhelming happiness before you rub over his head.

He stirs a bit, but he doesn't wake up, and you stare at him for who knows how long before you get back to your game.

~

Hanta’s laying on the bed, half-watching the show that’s playing on the TV. He adjusts himself against the headboard once his lower back starts to ache a bit as he hears you coming back from the bathroom. His attention is totally focused on you when you carefully walk into the room, your attention on your phone. 

Your hair is slightly damp from detangling it in the shower, but Sero's more fixated on what you're wearing. You've got a lot more skin showing than usual, a tight fitting tank top on your body, and the lower half is only covered by your underwear.

He quickly moves over to your side of the bed as you plug your phone up, and he catches your wrist when you set it on the nightstand. "What's this?" he questions softly, making a point to only look at your body, and you look down at yourself before you look at him with a frown.

"What's what?" you say, sliding your fingers in between his. "My clothes?" you add with a quick laugh. He pulls you towards the bed, and you easily follow, getting on the bed on your knees before he guides you to sit in between his legs with your back against his chest.

You get comfortable, relaxing against him as he looks down your body over your shoulder. "It's different," he mumbles, resting his hands on your hips, one of them playing with the hem of your tank before dipping underneath to rub at your skin.

"Good different or bad different?" you ask quietly, and Hanta keeps his eyes on your chest, continuing to touch your body as he watches your nipples harden, eventually peaking through the material.

"Oh, sweetheart," he starts, finally looking you in the eyes. "There is nothing bad about this." Both of his hands make their way under your shirt as you gently place your hands on his thighs. "Why the change, hm?"

You were kind of hoping he wouldn't notice, but you are wearing something that you haven't really worn before, at least not at his house. You usually wear his shirts and shorts to bed, occasionally underwear if you feel like it, but you've never worn anything this revealing before.

You can thank Mina for that. You had been thinking about doing more with Hanta, but you didn't know how to start the conversation without being so awkward. So, you asked Mina and she said that this would help, but you don't know if you can even bring yourself to say it.

It took you about five minutes after putting your clothes on to walk out of the bathroom. "I just get hot at night sometimes," you say softly, looking away.

"Really?" he hums before his fingers reach your tits where they rub over them gently, purposefully avoiding your nipples. "Well, as long as you're comfortable." You don't respond, your breath catching in your chest a little due to Hanta touching you.

You try to focus on the show that's playing, but it's impossible. Your legs slide across the bed and against his legs as his hands divide into two paths across your body. One of his hands rubs in between your legs, but he keeps his fingers over your panties.

His other hand rubs over your stomach before he softly cups your tit. His finger gently rubs over your nipple, and your toes curl as you bite your lip, having such a hard time keeping quiet. He dips his fingers further down your body, smirking to himself when he can feel how you're soaking your underwear.

"Hanta," you mumble when you feel his lips on your neck.

"What?" he teases, letting his fingers dip under your panties, and you jump a bit when they immediately find your clit. You moan quietly when he rubs at your sensitive bud, and he moves his hand up to pull your shirt above your boobs.

He plays with the most sensitive parts of you, your head eventually falling back on his shoulder as your legs starts to struggle to stay open. You grab onto his wrist gently, but he doesn't stop touching you, and you almost forget what you were actually trying to do in the first place.

You don't know if you can even bring yourself to say it, and in your head you say that you need more time to boost your confidence, when in reality, Hanta's fingers are just too good. You let your eyes close as his fingers prod at your entrance, moving his hand from your chest so that he can continue to rub at your clit.

He doesn't even have to slide his fingers all the way in for you to feel your orgasm rising. You turn your head to the side, your grip on his wrist tightening as he kisses you softly. You can barely keep up with it, and he uses your distracted state to claim your mouth, letting his tongue move around yours before sucking on it.

You gasp into his mouth, your back arching away from him, and Hanta smirks as he watches you before turning his attention to where his fingers disappear under your panties. "You close?" he whispers even though he already knows the answer, his smirk turning into a smile when you quickly nod your head.

Your face screws up in that way that he loves, and you start to move into his fingers, which causes you to grind against him. He's already hard, so you moving gives him a little bit of challenge as his focus gets split just a little. His jaw clenches as he focuses on you and making you cum, encouraging you through it.

You cum with a gasp of his name, your body shaking as you try to keep moving your hips. He keeps his fingers moving until you start to settle down, and he easily slides them into his mouth after taking them out of you. You call his name again, and he hums as he looks down at you.

Your eyes are barely open, but he can see how your pupils are blown wide, and he'll never get tired of reducing you to this state. "What's up, baby?" he asks, using his other hand to rub over your tummy again.

"More," you start, and before he can press you about what you mean, you move your face into his neck.

"Can't give you what you want if you're not looking at me, angel," he counters softly, grinning when he can hear you whine a little.

You take a couple of deep breaths before he feels you move your head. "I wanna feel you," you mumble, "...inside me."

Hanta feels his world stop for a little bit as his dick twitches. His breath gets caught in his chest for a second, but he recovers quickly. "You sure?" You nod quickly. "I don't wanna hurt you," he continues even though there's nothing more that he would love to do.

"Maybe just the tip? I don't care, I just wanna feel you." He can't stop the groan that comes out of him. "Please, Han."

"Okay, okay, baby. I gotcha," he coos softly, moving so that he can lay you down. You watch him straddle you, and you look down to see that he's very much hard. He kisses you gently, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. "Are you sure?"

You nod quickly again, reaching for the top of his shorts, but he's quick to put his hands on top of yours. "And you'll tell me if you wanna stop."

"Yes, Hanta," you answer quickly. "I promise." You look him in the eye to let him know that you mean it. You try at his shorts again and this time he lets you, helping you slide them down to his knees. He pulls your underwear down and off your legs as you admire what's in between his legs, and you can feel your nerves start to come back.

Now that you're starting to lose that post-orgasmic high, your thoughts are starting to run wild again. You watch as he reaches into his nightstand, pulling out a condom, and reality starts to set in for you.

He looks at you again before he opens it like he could feel how nervous you are. "We don't have to do this, sweetheart," he reminds you again.

"I-I know, but I want to," you answer before your eyes trail down again. "You're just...really big," you breathe, saying the last part under your breath.

"And I'm not gonna go all the way unless you want me to, okay?" He leans down to kiss you, taking his time to help you ease your nerves. You can hear him rip the wrapper open, and you pull away to look at his hands.

"Do we really need that?" you ask, your voice genuine.

"Yeah," he answers, nodding his head. "I don't trust myself," he adds, but you don't seem to hear him because you're watching him slide the condom on. It's been a while for him, and he definitely doesn't trust his pull-out game, especially if he goes in raw. He grabs a pillow, having you lift your hips up so he can slide it under you.

You jump when you feel his fingers touch your hole, and he's quick to rub your thighs with his other hand. "Relax, baby, just breathe." He moves a little closer to you on his knees so that he can keep your legs open, and he uses his thumb to rub at your clit as he stretches you open.

You're still a little sensitive from your orgasm, but it doesn't take long for you to start soaking his fingers. "You ready?" he asks, and you nod quickly, giving him a verbal confirmation He guides himself towards your entrance, and he continues to rub your leg. "Relax, okay?" he whispers before he moves again. He rubs at your clit, which is definitely welcomed when you feel him start to push in.

It's definitely bigger than his fingers, and you wince just a bit, your breath catching for a second. The stretch starts to feel good though, and you can't help but moan as he keeps moving after you urge him to by gently pulling on his arm. You look up at him when he groans, seeing that he's let his head fall, stilling himself as he lets his hands fall beside you on the bed.

"How you feeling?" he asks after he takes a deep breath, lifting up his head to look at you.

You look down at where he's currently disappearing inside of you as you nod. "I'm okay, it feels kinda weird," you say honestly. "But you feel good." A low moan escapes him before he carefully bends his arms so that he can kiss you. "Can you move?" you ask against his lips.

He nods, moving inside of you a little deeper before sliding back out. It's not enough to really make you feel anything crazy, but you do feel better and lot less nervous about the whole thing. You spread your legs open a bit, watching him move, and you don't tell him to move any further inside of you, but you really do like feeling him inside of you. "Does it feel good for you?" You notice that he's been usually quiet, and you look at him, his eyes opening right after you do.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Really good." He groans again, and he didn't think that he could shake this much. His body is vibrating as he tries to keep his pace steady without going any further, but you're so tight, your pussy so snug around him. Suddenly, he's slowly sliding out of you, making you gasp, before he stutters out a breath. "F-Fuck, I can't--I can't," he gasps. "Sorry, baby."

"What's wrong?" you ask, watching his chest heave. He kisses you instead of answering you at first, trying to calm himself down first.

"Can't control myself," he mumbles against you. "You feel too good, and I don't wanna hurt you."

"O-Oh," you say, feeling heat rush to your face even though it's pretty warm, and you look away from him before you speak. "But I still want you to cum," you admit, having a hard time holding his eyes.

"Yeah?" he muses, smiling at you. You nod, shyly diverting your gaze, only looking at him when he lifts himself up. He sits back on his legs, and you watch him slide the condom off, chucking it into the trashcan. He sighs as he pumps himself, and you can't help but watch until he grabs your legs.

You let him move you, wondering what he's doing as he starts to lift your legs by your knees. He straightens your legs, moving them to the side so your ankles rest on his shoulder. You gasp softly when you feel him slide in between your legs, and he feels so hot against your skin.

He starts move his hips slowly, and his movements rub against your clit which causes you to release a quiet moan. His hips slap against the back of your legs as he speeds up his thrusts, and you can see the tip peaking out every time he moves forward. You try to squeeze your thighs together, and he moans as he starts to lean forward, pushing your legs to your body.

"Shit," he groans, and you can feel yourself getting wet just watching him lose himself as he fucks your thighs. He plants his hand on the bed next to you as his hips start to lose their rhythm. He moans as his eyebrows crease, and you gasp when you feel something warm hit your stomach.

You look down to see him shooting onto your skin, slamming his hips against you a couple more times before he slows. He lets your legs go, and you immediately let them fall around him as he catches his breath. "Fuck, that was so good," he sighs, and he gets up so that he can clean you up as you roll your ankles, trying to circulate the blood in your feet.

He cleans the both of you up, and he lays down next to you, rolling over onto his side as he moves you into the same position. "You okay?" he asks, rubbing over your body. You hum your answer before he kisses you on your forehead. You both listen to the show playing on the TV, but neither of you is watching, just focusing on each other's breathing.

"As much as I love seeing you barely wearing anything, you could've just asked me," he says suddenly, and you feel your face warm.

"I know," you mumble, and he chuckles quietly, kissing your skin again in a quick apology.

You fight tears for as long as you can when Hanta graduates. You're happy for him of course, and you find yourself laughing when all of your friends joke that he ditched them and won't be suffering with the rest of them. Since it's the summer, you all have plans to hang out over the break, just a way to get away from school and just have some fun.

You all decide to go to the beach, which is very predictable, but you all had been saving up money, and you all wanted to spend time with Hanta before he goes on and does whatever he's going to be doing. Because everyone's exam schedule is different, you all decide to just get to the hotel on your own time. You and Hanta go together, getting there before everyone else.

You have a couple of days until everyone else gets here, and you spend those days at the beach or in the hotel if it's too hot. When everyone finally gets to the beach, the rest of the week goes by in a blur. You all go to escape rooms, sightseeing, try all kinds of restaurants, and of course, spend time at the beach.

You ask Hanta to rub sunscreen on your back, which just leads to him trying to convince you to let him do your whole body. He pouts when you tell him no, sulking on the blanket he has on the sand, and you roll your eyes before applying the rest of your sunscreen. You play in the water with Denki and Jirou for a while before the heat starts to get to you. You leave them alone since they somehow still have so much energy.

You lay down on your blanket next to Hanta, and he doesn't move when you lay down or when you were walking toward him. He has sunglasses on, so you assume that he's asleep. You dry yourself off a bit before you move to lay on your stomach, scrolling on your phone as you look around the beach.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel something touch your ass, and you look over your shoulder to see Hanta's head facing toward you. You yelp softly when he squeezes, pushing his hand away. "Hanta, you can't do that," you laugh, moving his hand away when he tries to touch you again.

"But you look so good," he tries, and you brush his hand away once more before you shift out of his reach.

"You can touch me all you want at the hotel," you argue lightly, shaking your head as you look at your phone again. You can see Hanta get up in your peripheral, but you don't think much of it. You sit up getting ready to turn over when Hanta pulls you to your feet. "What are you doing?"

He suddenly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder before he grabs your stuff with his other hand. You shout in surprise before you start laughing, telling him to put you down at your hit his back softly with your fists. Since your hotel is on the beach, it doesn't take him long to reach the doors, and he sets you down right before he gets to the building.

He doesn't give you time to catch your breath, pulling you into the hotel and toward your room. You wonder what in the world has gotten into him, and he barely lets the room door close before his hands are all over your body. "Hanta, what the hell are you doing?" you ask lightly, but you don't stop what he's doing.

"I'm touching you all I want," he jabs, and you laugh as you roll your eyes.

"But I'm covered in sand," you try, and you think he ignores you, but he's pulling you toward the bathroom. He turns the shower on, undressing himself before he quickly undresses you, checking the water before getting in the shower with you in tow. "Hanta, you don't even--"

"Why are you being so mean to me?" he whines as he presses you against the wall. Your back arches, pushing your body into him because the wall is so cold. "Just let me love on you." You can't help but laugh, but you rest your arms around his shoulders as he lets his hands rub over your body. He stares at you, the loving look in his eyes still making you nervous despite seeing it all the time.

"I love you," he says, squeezing your hips before letting his hands rub up your back.

"So, I've been told," you tease, and you stand on your toes to reach his lips. He hums when you kiss him, leaning down so that you don't have to keep standing on your toes.

"You're so beautiful," he tells you softly.

"Someone has also told me that," you laugh before you look down to yawn, blinking rapidly as your eyes start to water. "I wanna take a nap," you whisper, even though it's pretty obvious. Hanta moves so that you're under the stream, and you let him wash your body, neither of you says a word, letting the silence along with the sound of the water running fill the air.

He takes care of you before he takes care of himself, drying you off first before moisturizing your skin with your lotion. You lightly push him away so that he can dry off because the water dripping from him lands on your skin and it's freezing cold. You get dressed, spreading out on the bed before you curl into yourself as you roll onto your side. You get under the blankets, rubbing your legs against the sheets as content floods your system.

You hear Hanta slide into the bed next to you, but you don't turn around, feeling his hand rub over your body. You eventually grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his. He kisses all over your face and neck, making you giggle before you roll over to face him. You adjust your hand, letting go of his to turn it around before holding his hand again.

You shift up a bit so you can kiss him, the action making the both of you smile immediately. You kiss him again and again and again until he chuckles. "What's up with you?" he whispers, and you pull away but keep your face close to his.

"Nothing," you say playfully with a shrug. "I'm just really happy."

"Yeah?" he says, his smile widening.

"Yeah," you respond quickly with a nod as your smile widens with his. You kiss him again before you rest your top half on his. He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand while his other hand rubs over your back. You can feel that fatigue you felt earlier in the shower creep up on you, yawning loudly as you let your eyes close.

You wake up, wondering when you went to sleep, finding yourself in bed by yourself. You sit up slowly, stretching as you try to wake up, and the clock on the nightstand tells you that you've been sleeping for about an hour. Hanta is walking out of the bathroom as you blink heavily, really trying to get the sleep out of your eyes.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks, getting back into bed. Before you can answer, he's already laying down, gently taking you with him.

"I'm still so tired," you mumble, snuggling into him.

"Mm, I bet," he hums. "You've been out in the sun all day." You didn't really make any progress with trying to wake yourself up, and with Hanta's body heat radiating against you, it's an even bigger fight. "Go back to sleep. I need you well rested for a later tonight."

"Hm? What's tonight?" you whisper as you start to go in and out of sleep.

"A surprise." You feel him kiss your forehead, and you smile subconsciously, completely forgetting to question him about the surprise as you fall back asleep.

~

You have a lot more energy when you wake up the second time, seeing that the sun is already starting to set. Hanta's out of bed once again, telling you that you need to get ready when you sit up. He still won't tell you what's going on, but you get out of bed and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You walk back out to get dressed before you go back into the bathroom to put some earrings on.

Hanta walks into the bathroom when you put the last one on, and you smile at him through the mirror. He returns it, wrapping his arms around you before kissing you on your head. "You look beautiful, angel." You lean back into him, letting your head fall back so that you can kiss him.

"Thank you," you whisper. "Are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Nice try," he smiles, and you playfully roll your eyes at another failed attempt. "But I do have something for you." You raise your eyebrows in interest. "Close your eyes, okay?" You move your head back down before you let your eyes close, and you can hear him moving behind you.

You jump a little when you feel something cold touch your neck, and you wait until he tells you to open your eyes. When you open your eyes they automatically fall on the necklace he's put on you. You step forward, closer to the mirror, to look at the gold jewelry, seeing his name caged in by two roses; the flower that he put in your hair when you first started hanging out with him.

"I love it," you say, running your fingers over it. "It's so pretty."

"Like the girl that's wearing it," he muses, and you can't help but laugh, turning around to give him a hug.

"Thank you, Hanta."

"You're welcome, baby." You pull away, finally taking him in since you're not blocking your own view in the mirror. The first thing you notice is that he's not wearing the necklaces that he usually is, instead it's the same one you're wearing except your name is the one on it. You freeze for a split second before you run your fingers across it.

"You got one too?"

"Of course," he answers, tilting your head by your chin so that he can kiss you. "Cause I'm all yours." The statement makes your face warm, but pride swells in your chest at the same time because he's right. And you're all his. You wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again, and you fight the urge to whine when he pulls away too soon. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."

He pulls you out of the bathroom so that you can put your shoes on, and you follow him out of the hotel room, letting him lead the way since you still don't know what he has planned. Since the sun has started to go down, the air is much cooler at night, and there's a nice breeze that carefully blows through the air when you step outside. With the light from the sun starting to disappear, the boardwalk is lively, all of the lights starting to light up the sky.

He takes you there first, and it's got food, games, and rides. There are people everywhere, and he holds your hand the entire time as you walk around, taking it all in. Once you get there, he lets you take the lead, following wherever you go. The first thing you think about is food since it's all you can smell, and you spend a good portion of your time just trying to narrow down your options.

You're finally able to pick one once your stomach starts growling for you to feed it something, and Hanta ends up getting food from your second choice so that you can try it also. You don't get a lot of food because you know you're going to be doing a lot of walking, so you don't want to stuff yourself full. You head towards the games first, starting with the ones where you have to compete with Hanta.

You only win a couple of the games, but you're happy nonetheless especially since Hanta gives you all the prizes he wins. You move through the area, having a hard time hiding your gasp every time you see a stuffed animal prize that you want. And every time you do it, Hanta is immediately going over to the booth to win it for you. Both of you can barely carry anything, and you can't help but laugh at yourself as you walk through the boardwalk.

Your feet start aching after a while, and your arms are starting to burn from holding everything for so long. Hanta tells you to wait right outside of the boardwalk before he takes the stuffed animals that you're holding. He reassures you that he can hold them all before he walks away, and it's not even five minutes until he comes back empty-handed.

"Please don't tell me that you ran to the hotel and back," you say hesitantly, letting him grab your hand and walk you in a different direction.

"No, I asked Denki if he could hold them for you," he tells you after he chuckles. "I had more planned tonight, so I asked him to take them." You want to ask him what else he has planned, but you notice that you're coming up on the Ferris wheel. You get lucky with your timing because you barely have to wait to get on it.

Hanta lets you get in first before he slides into the cart next to you. It takes a while for you to get to the top since everyone stops at the top of the wheel, but you reminisce about the time that you're spending with Hanta nonetheless. He keeps you close to him with his arm wrapped around you so that you're tucked into his side, and you take in the sights around you as you get higher.

You start to take pictures once you get high enough to see a lot of stuff, and Hanta watches you fondly the entire time, happy that you seem to be really having fun. Your excitement starts to dwindle into awe as you reach the top, really taking in everything that you can see. "God, this is so pretty," you admire, nearly getting lost in everything you're looking at.

"Yeah, it is," he whispers, causing you to finally look at him only to find him looking right at you.

"You're not even looking at the view," you joke.

"Why would I when you're the best thing my eyes have seen?"

"You're always saying that," you counter as the blood rushes to your face, and you try to shift your attention back to the sky, but he stops you quickly by softly catching your chin.

"Because it's true, and I'm gonna keep saying it. You're the prettiest damn woman I've ever seen," he declares. "You take my breath away every time I see you first thing after I wake up."

"Hanta." He smiles fondly at your reaction, chuckling a little as he watches you.

"I love you so much," he continues, and you want to tell him how you feel the same way, but it's hard for you to get your words out in the way that you want. You know Hanta knows that, and you hope that you can find the words that you want to say, but you decide to worry about it another time when he kisses you.

You miss the view at the very top of the Ferris wheel in favor of letting yourself melt into him, but you're not upset about that at all. You sigh softly when he deepens the kiss a bit as he starts to lean forward. It makes you move backward until you're pressed against the window at the same time you feel his hand sneaking up your leg.

"Are you really trying to feel me up right now?" you question playfully, and his smile tickles your lips as he his hand continues its path.

"What if I was?"

"People can probably see us, Hanta," you try even though you make no move to stop him.

"Well, then you shouldn't have worn something that gives me easy access."

You scoff softly. "Hey, that's not fair--" He cuts you off gently by kissing you again, bending one of your legs at the knee so that your foot is resting on the seat. He nudges your other leg away, and he slides closer to you, further trapping you in between the wall and him. Your hands dig into his shoulders as you feel him reach in between your legs under your dress.

You gasp when he starts to rub over your covered pussy, and you can barely feel the Ferris wheel starting to move again. You want to be embarrassed about how anyone could see you, but right now it's only making you even more aroused. "Hanta," you whisper, barely able to get his name out since he's starting to reach into your underwear. "W-We're going down."

He just hums into your mouth before carefully pushing his tongue inside, and you easily let him. "How does that make you feel?" he asks, and he's barely got his finger pressed against your entrance, but he can feel how you're throbbing at the thought. "Someone seems to be into it," he teases, and he pulls away, finally looking at you with a cheeky smile.

He lets his thumb rub over your clit, and you glance out the window to see that you're getting lower. You're caught in between wanting to push him away or pull him closer, and a stifled moan leaves your mouth. He kisses you again, this time a lot sloppier than before, the wet sounds of your mouth slotting together echoing in the cart.

He pulls away, a string of saliva the only thing keeping you connected until he breaks it. He slides his hand from between your legs, smiling at how gone he nearly has you. "You're so mean," you say breathlessly with a small pout. He kisses your forehead in apology as he closes your legs and fixes your dress.

"You love it though, right?"

"No," you huff, shoving him a little, but both of you know that you don't mean it. You're still flustered when you get off the Ferris wheel, and in the back of your head, you're wondering if someone really did see what you were doing. You let Hanta take your hand and guide you through the slew of people, and you're looking at your surroundings when you stop suddenly. Hanta quickly stops when you pull against his hand, turning around to see what made you stop.

"There's a photobooth!" you exclaim, pulling Hanta in the direction of it before he can even respond. There's no one inside when you pull the curtain aside, and you slide inside with Sero right behind you. Although, it's made known immediately that there definitely isn't enough room for the both of you on the seat because of how big he is. He waste no time sitting you on his lap, and you give him a look.

"What?"

"Behave," you say playfully, not needing to say much for him to understand. All he does is smile at you, but his hands stay on your waist, and you queue up the camera. You take so many pictures to the point where all you see is the negative image of the flash every time you blink.

You both smile at the camera for the first couple before Hanta plants his lips on your cheek for one. You do the same for another before he can't help but kiss you which last for a couple of takes. You both pull away to laugh, only looking at each other and completely forgetting about the camera.

"You havin' fun?" he asks, and you nod instantly, the big smile on your face enough of an answer for him. You both get out once the automated voice tells you that you're done taking the pictures, and you grab them from the holder. You smile fondly as you look at them, handing Hanta his copies.

He takes your hand in his again as you start to walk away from the boardwalk, and the night has started to become a little cooler with the wind picking up. Hanta gives you is jacket to wear before he guides you to the beach, the sand and part of the water illuminated by the moonlight.

"So, what was all this for anyway?" you ask, swinging you and Hanta's arms as you walk along the beach. He's got your shoes in his other hand as he shrugs, lifting his arm up to spin you around which makes you giggle.

"I just wanted to spend time with my girl." He pulls you into him, kissing you softly. "I know I said I wasn't going anywhere after graduating, but you never know what life throws your way," he says. "So, I want to make as many memories with you just in case it gets a little harder in the future."

"Well, I definitely won't forget this night," you tell him fondly, bringing your hand up so you kiss his. "Thank you, Hanta."

He lets go of your hand to brush your hair back. "Anything for you." You reach up on your toes to kiss him before you back away from him.

"I have a really crazy idea." He raises his eyebrows, watching you slide his jacket off, and they go even higher when you take your dress off after.

"Didn't think you'd be into skinny dipping, baby," he muses even though he's not going to object this at all.

"It's too cold to get totally naked," you argue. "But you gotta catch me," you tease, slowly tiptoeing backward, and Hanta's quick to start shedding his clothes. You turn around, shivering a bit when your toes touch the icy cold water. You're wondering when Sero's about to get undressed, and you scream when you're suddenly in the air.

You can hear Hanta laughing as he runs into the water with you in his arms, and he plops you down in the water. You yelp again at how ridiculously cold it is, your body instantly starting to shiver, and Hanta turns you around so he can put your hair up into a bun. "You're an ass. This water is freezing!" you scold playfully, rubbing your hands over your arms.

"Oh, it's not that bad," he responds before splashing you with water. You freeze as your mouth drops open, your body processing what just happened. When your brain finally catches up, you're quick to retaliate, throwing water back at him. A water fight ensues, both of you laughing loudly as you both go back and forth throwing water onto each other.

You manage to push him down, and he gasps loudly as he quickly gets to his feet. "Holy shit, that's fucking cold!"

"I told you!" you say before you try to run away because you know he's going to get his lick back. It's hard in the water, and his legs are longer than yours so he catches up to you easily. He scoops you up in his arms, and you squirm as hard as you can, but it's no use. You scream through your teeth when he squats, plunging your body into the water until your head is the only thing not in the water.

At this point, you're both laughing, and you splash him with water until he finally lets you go. You both stand, shivering as you try to catch your breath. "Do you think we'd get in trouble?" you ask, and Hanta looks around before he shrugs.

"Dunno, but this water is too cold to stay in." You agree, both of you making quick moves to get out and grab your stuff. You put your clothes back on even though they get soaking wet, and you both continue to shiver as you hold hands on the way back to the hotel.

You're both dripping water as you walk through the lobby and to your room, walking fast so you can get into a hot shower as soon as possible. Hanta unlocks and opens the door, and you both rush in but quickly stop when your eyes land on all of the stuffed animals in the room. You both look around before looking at each other, your laughs filling the room a split second later.

You decide to worry about it later, making your way to the bathroom. You both shed your clothes again, and you hang them dry as Hanta turns on the water. Once the water is warm enough, you both hop in quickly, sighing in relief when the warm water hits your skin. Hanta lets you stay under the water first, rubbing over your body to help you warm up faster.

You let him under the stream next, and once you both are warmed up, you wash yourselves. You wash Hanta's hair before he washes your body, and even as you start to wind down in the shower, there's a part of you that doesn't want to be any further from him. He ushers you out of the shower to dry off while he finishes, and you wipe yourself down with the towel before wrapping it around your body.

You decide to wait for Hanta, playing with the necklace he got you while you replay everything that happened today in your head. You must've zoned out because you jump a bit when you hear the shower curtain slide across the rod. You turn around, seeing Hanta step out, immediately grabbing a towel for his body. You grab a towel for his hair, and you can't help but stare at his muscles, watching the ones in his arms move and tense as he dries off.

You try to ignore the heat that's starting to form in between your legs by walking up to him and drying his hair off once he wraps the towel around his waist. You smile at each other as he leans his head down so you can wipe his hair, doing so until the towel is wet. You let the towel fall around his neck, but you don't let go of it just yet. "Okay, so maybe getting in the water was a bad idea."

He huffs. "Oh, definitely, but it was a lot of fun." You hum in agreement, and just looking at him right now makes you realize how hard you've fallen for him. You pull on the towel gently to guide his head down to you.

"I really had a lot of fun today, Hanta," you whisper after you kiss him.

"I'm glad, angel." He gives you a soft smile, and you pull him down to kiss him again. He easily follows, and you let go of the towel in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring your lips back together when he pulls away, and the air between the two of you slowly starts to shift.

His hands run up and down your body, before he bends down a bit to grab at your thighs. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist when he picks you up, and he slides his tongue into your mouth as he walks into the room. He rubs your skin under the towel, and the touch sends pleasant shivers up your spine. He gets on the bed, moving on his knees before he carefully sets you down on your back, barely creating space between the two of you.

He grabs your wrists in one of his hands, moving your arms up over your head as his other hand starts to split your towel. You spread your legs once you feel his fingers ghost over your thigh, keeping your lips on his because kissing him feels like it's addicting; it's something you can't help but do.

You gasp when he runs his hand up your body before he pulls at the towel so that it falls to your side, the movement mimicking curtains being drawn to reveal your body. Once Hanta gets the towel off, he leaves your lips to kiss down your face toward your neck. As his lips trail down your body, his hand is trailing up your body, and you wait in anticipation to see what he touches next.

You moan softly when his mouth reaches your tits at the same time his fingers reach your pussy, which makes him smile when he feels how wet you already are. His tongue circles your nipple as he runs his fingers through your folds before swirling his finger around your swollen clit. He still has your wrists in his hand, and that paired with his weight on top of you makes you even hotter all over.

You arch into him as he sucks at your chest, your moans growing in volume as he speeds up his ministrations on your sensitive bud. He keeps your legs spread with his own, letting one of his fingers drift down to your sopping entrance. "Hanta," you whimper when you feel his fingers carefully slide into you. He finally lets go of your wrists as he moves back up to kiss you again, and your toes curl simultaneously with his fingers as he presses on that magic spot inside of you.

Your hands instantly run through his damp hair, and dig into his shoulder, finding purchase anywhere that they can. You try to grab at his arm when he starts to increase the pump of his fingers, and he pulls away to look at the pleasurable look on your face. Your mouth falls open as you feel that knot building up in your stomach, and you can barely get his name out.

"Yeah, baby," he coos, giving you a sly grin. "You feelin' good?"

You nod quickly, your back arching off the bed. "M gonna cum, Han--ah!" Your face screws up as your legs start to shake, and you swear your foot is gonna cramp from how hard you're curling your toes.

"Go ahead, angel. Lemme see it," he urges, using his other hand to gently pinch at your clit which sends you over the edge. You moan his name as you clench around his fingers, your legs tightening around him before they go limp. You attempt to scoot away from him as he finger fucks you into oversensitivity, and he gives you relief a little while after, sliding his fingers out of you.

You try to catch your breath as your chest heaves, and Hanta rubs over your thigh as you come down. Your heartbeat is in your ears, and you vaguely hear him say something, but you're quick to stop him when he's about to get off of the bed. "Wait," you start, only saying enough to get him to stay still. He stops, looking back at you, and you take a deep breath before continuing. "What about you?"

"What about me?" he teases, and you drop your eyes to the tent that's currently in his towel. He leans back over you, planting his hands next to your head before moving down until his face is inches from yours. "Hm?" he presses, giving you a deep kiss that nearly takes your breath away.

"You can fuck me," you whisper, and although your face was about to cool down, it's definitely not anymore. His smile doesn't falter, but the playful look in his eyes turns dark, and to see it in real-time makes your sensitive core throb with need.

"Really?" he breathes, and you nod quickly, lifting your arms up so that they're resting around his neck. "You sure?" he asks after he pushes a quick breath through his nose.

"Yes, Hanta. I want you to." You pull him down so that you can slot your lips against his.

"I don't have a condom," he whispers even though his resolve is two seconds from being out of the window.

"I don't care," you whine. "I want to feel you, Hanta. All of you." He groans, kissing you again before he sits up. He honestly had no idea that this would happen. Not saying that he doesn't want this, and he doesn't think that he'll be able to say no. Not with the way you're naked under him with your pupils still blown wide from your previous orgasm.

He watches you sit up, and he doesn't stop you when you pull the towel from around his waist. You softly wrap your hand around him, sighing quietly at the heavy feeling of him in your palm. He groans again when he watches you spit on his tip before you start stroking him. "Shit," he hisses, and you look up at him as you twist your wrist, squeezing your hand a little tighter.

You sit up on your knees as you continue to touch him, and you rest your head against his. "Please, Hanta," you whisper against his lips as his hips buck into your hand.

"Okay," he moans softly, taking your hand away before he carefully pushes you to lie down. He spreads one of the towels out before he grabs a pillow, sliding it under your hips. He swears when he touches himself, adding more spit to himself. He's throbbing, convinced that he's never been this hard before.

He lets go of himself to touch you again, and he slides one of your legs to the side as he rubs over your clit again. "You'll let me know if you're hurting, right?"

"Yes, Hanta, just--please," you beg again, and he grabs one of your legs before moving closer to you. He lines himself up with your entrance, and he feels like he can't breathe the closer he gets to you. He realizes that he has to snap out of it, and he leans down, giving you a chaste kiss.

"I need you to relax for me, okay?" You nod, your body starting to settle a bit, and he rubs your clit at the same time he starts to push at your tight hole. He bites his lip, trying hard to focus on you, making sure he catches any sign of discomfort. There's nothing about your body language that's telling him to stop, so he keeps going, taking a deep breath. "Fuck, you're so tight--God," he huffs, and you moan as he continues to move, but it feels like his head is swimming.

He keeps touching your clit, but he uses his other hand to squeeze at the base of his dick, knowing that there's a dangerous chance that he'll cum before he's even all the way inside of you. "Why'd you stop?" you whine, already feeling stretched but you know all of him isn't inside of you yet.

"You gotta...give me a second," he tries, letting his head fall back on his shoulders so that he can't look at you as he thinks of anything and everything that won't turn him on. Once he's settled a bit, he finally looks at you, making sure you're okay before he finally bottoms out. "Fuck me," he mumbles, rubbing his hands over your legs. "How ya feeling, sweetheart?"

You nod, taking a few seconds to let your body adjust to the new intrusion. "Good. I feel really good." Hanta smiles, leaning down so he can kiss you again, the motion making you gasp into his mouth since he's moving inside of you. "Move, Hanta," you say against him, and he doesn't think he can wait any longer.

He grabs your legs, setting them higher up his hips before he gently places his hands on your hips. Your hands are on his arms as he slides out of you, and the feeling of the first thrust suddenly takes you by surprise, so your breath hitches. But once Hanta sets a pace, all you can do is moan. Your nails dig into his arms as your mouth falls open, your eyes falling shut as pleasure fills your veins.

"OhmyGod!" Your words rush out of you when your pleasure mounts times ten as your eyes shoot open, your clit throbbing at the huge rush that you feel. "H-Hanta," you moan, your body suddenly overwhelmed, and you softly push your hands into his arms because of how you're feeling.

"Is that it, baby?" he asks even though he already knows the answer, and you can hear how loud you're being, but you can't help it. His hips start moving faster, and that in combination with him ramming into that spot inside of you makes tears form in your eyes. "Fuck, angel, you're so fucking wet," he groans, looking down at where he's sliding in and out of you.

You don't even need to look where Hanta's looking because you can hear it. The squelching is so loud in your ears, and you half a mind to cover your ears. He suddenly leans forward, and that pushes your legs up toward your body. His body weight is fully pressing into you every time his hips slam against yours, and you don't think you've ever been more aroused.

"What's wrong, baby?" he muses, picking up on how it looks like you might be going shy on him. You wonder if he's just as affected by you as you are by him because he's still able to mess with you even when he's fucking up your guts.

"I-It's so l-loud," you mumble, having to close your eyes at how embarrassed you are. "S-Shit," you moan softly, moving your hands to his back.

"That's just her telling me how good I'm fucking you," he smugly tells you, and you want to frown at him, but your eyes cross instead as you feel your orgasm approaching.

"M c-close, Hanta," you whine, your nails digging into his skin. They slip down his back every time he fucks into you, and the feeling makes him hiss softly.

"I know, I know," he grunts. "Jesus, you're squeezing me so tight." He moans loudly before he lets his body full fall onto you. He digs his knees further into the mattress so that he can keep up his pace, and he lets his forehead rest against yours. "Fuck, f-fuck! Oh, my God!" he whines. "You gotta cum, baby, please."

He knows how desperate he sounds, but with the way you're clenching around him, he can't fight it anymore. He reaches one of his hands in between your bodies so that he can rub at your clit. Your nails dig into his skin again, and the feeling just rushes straight to his dick. He's rambling at this point, not even sure if he knows what he's saying, but he does know that he doesn't have much time.

Your legs suddenly wrap around him once you cum, and his breath gets caught in his chest as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. You hook your ankles together, and your heels dig into his lower back, trapping him. "L-Lemme out, baby," he tries. "Y-You gotta let me go, I'm gonna--"

He couldn't slow his hips down if he wanted to, and he feels like he could pass out. "Want to feel all of you, Hanta," you whisper in his ear, and he lets his head fall into your neck. "P-Please," you moan, your body easily being overstimulated since you won't let him go.

His moans are the only thing he can hear as he shoots inside of you, and he goes as deep inside of you as he can, so much that the push of his hips curl your body up. The feeling of him filling you up is weird, but it feels good at the same time, and you relax your hands as he starts to slow down, feeling his dick twitch inside of you. He lifts his head up so that he can kiss you soundly, his tongue lazily swirling around yours.

"Holy...shit," he breathes after he pulls away. He takes another deep breath, putting his forehead on yours. "You okay?" he mumbles, and you smile as you nod, running your fingers through his hair. "Shit, your pussy's so good." You can't help but huff a little at his words, but then you start to notice that his weight on you is getting heavier.

"Hanta?" you question when he finally slumps on top of you. Your eyebrows raise when he softly starts to snore, and you laugh quietly as you rub over his head. You let your legs fall a little to his sides, and once your heart rate starts to go down, you can feel how tired you actually are. He's practically crushing you, but your eyes slip closed regardless, and you let his breathing lull you to sleep.

You suddenly feel something shifting inside of you, and you immediately grimace. You peel your eyes open to see Hanta wide awake and carefully sliding out of you. When he's finally out of you, the feeling of being empty feels so weird, and you don't really like it. Hanta looks up at you when you gasp, and he gives you a soft smile. "Hey, sweetheart," he whispers. "You feeling okay?"

You hum your answer as you nod, and you wince when you try to sit up, feeling soreness in your legs and between. "Sorry, I fell asleep on you," he continues, shaking his head as he huffs at himself. "Let's get you cleaned up." You try to stand yourself once you slide to the end of the bed, but your legs shake too bad and Hanta has to catch you. He quietly apologizes before he picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom.

He holds your hand while you sit down on the toilet before he walks out of the bathroom. You take a deep breath after you pee to prepare yourself to stand up, and you swear quietly when your legs burn as you move. You flush the toilet and wash your hands, and you can hear Hanta come back in, his lower half covered with shorts. You don't feel like getting back in the shower, so Hanta cleans you up with a warm washcloth before carrying you back into the room.

He sets you on the bed before handing you his shirt to put on, and he grabs some of the snacks that you brought earlier and a bottle of water. He gets on the bed next to you as he hands you the snacks and water. "Sorry, it's not much." He lays against the headboard, and you move into him as you shake your head. He rests his arm around you as you lean your head on him.

"It's more than enough," you tell him, and you feed him a chip every now and then, half-watching the TV that he turned on while you were in the bathroom. He makes sure that you drink most of the water before he finally lays the both of you down. You guess you were sleep for about an hour, but it's still late into the night, so your body welcomes the thought of getting more sleep.

You're laying on Hanta's chest, your eyes starting to get heavy as he runs his fingers up and down your arm. As you close your eyes, you think about how much fun you've had with Hanta and how much he cares for you; it's almost overwhelming to think about. And the more you think, the more it reminds you of a conversation that you had with your mom when your parents first met Hanta.

"When did you know that you loved Dad?" you ask, and she smiles to herself as she washes the pot in the sink.

"Honestly, I just knew," she answers. "I just had this sense of security one day, and I could tell that he really loved me. That we really cared for each other." You look into the living room where Hanta's helping your dad out with something as they talk about who knows what. "That might sound like a cliché answer, but it's true."

You smile to yourself as you snuggle even more into him. "I love you." You hear his breathing stop but you keep your eyes closed. "I love you, Hanta," you repeat. He had said it first months ago, and he never pressured you to say it back. But when you think about it, you always have. You blame it on your insecurities and doubts that were subconsciously plaguing your mind without realizing it. And being here with Hanta in more ways than one has made you realize that you do love him. So much.

"I love you, too, baby." Your smile widens when you feel him kiss your forehead. For a bit, you're scared to go to sleep because you don't want this moment to end, but you know that you will have moments like this over and over again.

[sungbeam]

nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.

▷ genre, warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, fluff, humor, comfort, reader has crowd anxiety, reader has a lot of siblings lol, mentions of math/physics/chemistry/etc sorry it was necessary for the character, kissing, puns and pick-up lines, mentions of academic stress, lots of carbs haha, drinking, guys younghoon was my first bias and im remembering why

▷ total wc. 29.3k (TUMBLR MADE ME CUT OUT SO MUCH I FKN HATE THIS HELLSITE)

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this should be fine as a standalone, but there are multiple references to party people & i highly encourage u to read it!; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: in an alternate world, i would still be obsessed w kim younghoon, isn't that crazy. anyways, enjoy + reblog!

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OF ALL THE COSMIC COINCIDENCES

KIM Jungwoo's message materialized on your lock screen in a bombardment of photons: Hey, you sure you don't wanna come with us tonight? Feel free to still join :')

You slung the strap of your bag over your head and shoulders before shooting him a reply. No thanks Woo :') Appreciate it though! Have fun tonight <3.

Some of the people in the social circle you orbited were heading to the bay tonight for a bonfire rager to celebrate (read: mourning) the beginning of the new university term. Though you hadn’t seen many of the people attending tonight in a couple months, you were never much for big crowds. Plus, the start of the school year brought a whole dumpster fire of things to worry about, so taking a quiet evening with yourself would be well worth it to keep your head on straight.

With the message sent, you hauled your apartment door open and headed out into the late evening. There was a convenient store at the end of the street a couple blocks over that you had been frequenting since freshman year, and you could taste the sweet brioche buns as the store’s fluorescent lights entered your view. It was a small corner store that reminded you much of a traditional 7/11, except there was a corner inside the store where patrons could eat and chill, and the food, arguably, tasted better than alright.

(The seating area inside this place had definitely seen many of your midterm and finals grind nights. And tears. There were lots of tear stains on those tables.)

Your roommate and good friend Miyawaki Sakura often accompanied you here whenever you came to do some studying, shopping, or recreational snacking. Tonight, she was holed up in her room video chatting with some of her cousins in Japan, but most other nights she would be online playing some kind of first person shooter game.

The walk to the nearby convenience store was a short, yet familiar one. You played a song at a faded volume in your earbuds, your hands tucked into the safety of your pockets. It was a warm night out, as late summer clung onto the coattails of early autumn, leaving a strange mixture of green, red, and yellow in the trees. The streets weren’t barren—plenty of people were out and about on a Saturday night—and still, you tilted your head up to the sky to appreciate the beauty of the obsidian sky.

When you reached the end of the block, you entered into the comfortable embrace of the convenience store. It was quiet, as expected, with only the muffled sound of jazz acoustics from the overhead speakers as white noise. The latter combined with the noise from your own device made it all the easier for you to be unaware of the other people here with you.

Your mouth was already watering from the mental image of brioche, and you made a sharp swerve into the familiar bread aisle when you realized—oh, you weren’t alone.

Standing exactly where you knew the brioche buns were stationed was a tall, lanky man with a pair of earbuds hanging from his own ears, one hand examining one of the bread packages while the other was tucked away in his pocket. His dark colored bangs were shaggy and hung in his eyes, but you could’ve recognized that side profile from a mile away. You’d spent nearly half a quarter staring at it, after all—the other half was looking at his front profile and forehead, but those were just as identifiable.

For a moment you stood at the mouth of the aisle weighing your options. Did you say hello, or did you walk away and pretend you didn’t see him?

He decided for you.

Kim Younghoon glanced up from the bread after feeling your eyes on him for a considerable beat of time. He blinked once before you saw the sharp surprise in his expression melt away into soft fondness. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, tugging his earbuds out with a charming smile. “Long time no see, Yn.”

You mirrored his actions and slipped the wires into your pocket. “Long time no see,” you agreed, returning his pleasant expression.

You met Younghoon just last year when he stumbled into the math tutoring center with his head held high and a notebook full of question marks. While your friends on shift at that time (Chanhee coaching someone through their linear algebra worksheet; Jungwoo yanking his hair follicles out with a group of freshmen over trigonometry) were busy, it was you who ultimately became Younghoon’s go-to calculus tutor. For the quarter that he took calculus, you helped the drama major through it.

Of course, finding a drama major in a calculus class was a rare occasion, but you both blamed the university’s awful general education requirement. Either way, you’d both found a friend and good company in one another. It didn’t help that he was terribly charismatic, and often filled the spaces in between long text messages about how to calculate the cross-section area of a vase with “good morning”s, “good luck on your midterm!”s, and corny STEM-themed one-liners.

Younghoon was the kind of guy people took home to meet their parents. Not… not that you ever thought about him like that. It was just what you overheard from this group of girls in the tutoring center once—

“I guess we both had the same idea tonight then,” he chuckled as you came to stand beside him to scour the shelf for your victim tonight.

You hummed. “I guess so,” you said. “I usually don’t see you in this area of the district though.” Because you definitely would have seen him. You lived around here, after all.

“Oh,” he grabbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it’s a funny story actually. I dropped my friends off at a party and I went to the store near them and they had no good selection of bread.” He made a helpless gesture. “So I couldn’t just accept defeat, and now I’ve ended up here.”

You plucked a package of soft brioche from the shelf, then passed him an amused look. There was something unfair about how the harsh LED lights fell so lightly over his facial features. “I guess some form of cosmic coincidence brought us bread-lovers here.”

Younghoon knocked his bread package against yours like he was cheering a glass of champagne. “And might I say what excellent taste you have.”

That drew a laugh from you. “Ditto.”

He pursed his lips then, considering you. “So what social event are you dodging tonight, Miss Mastermind?” Younghoon’s eyebrows arched upwards at you, and you suddenly took on the sheepishness he had before. Though, you definitely noted that familiar nickname that followed his question. You wondered if that was still the name your contact was saved under in his phone. (If he even still had your contact information saved.)

You raised the palm of your hand up to hide half of your face from comical shame. “Now why would you just assume that I’m here because I’m avoiding a social call?”

“Yah,” he chided jokingly, “because I know you.” His eyes turned up to the ceiling for a moment before he added, “And you’re friends with Kim Jungwoo.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

He laughed. “Gotcha.”

“And you say I'm the mastermind?” You quipped back at him, all light-hearted. When he first dubbed you with the nickname, you hadn't known what to do about it. He claimed it was because you somehow made learning calculus fun for him—some “sorcery,” as he accused back then.

“You are!” He exclaimed with excited, wide eyes. “You've hexed me with a love for math puns and acute angles,” he groaned melodramatically, clutching his chest like his heart was about to burst for added effect.

You clicked your tongue, unable to hide your amusement. “Acute angles is a new one.”

“'Cause they remind me of a-cute-ies like you,” he said with his hand shaped into a finger gun, tongue between his teeth.

Your hand went over your face again. “I forgot that you did that.”

“You missed it!”

The smile on your face couldn't even be fully covered with your hand. Maybe you did miss it—or maybe it was just him. When the quarter had wrapped up last year and Younghoon was no longer taking calculus, neither of you had any “excuse” to be around each other anymore. Though you still had his number, you always chickened out of texting him to see how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out.

In your mind, Younghoon was always too cool for you. You didn't feel like you fit into his world.

Younghoon took your hand and drew it away from your face, a slow smile filling his lips. “There she is. You missed me.”

“If you stop asking, I will pay for your bread.”

“As if I'm going to let you do that,” he shook his head. “I'll take that as a yes.”

You both began making your way over to the counter to purchase your individual pastries. You always knew Younghoon liked bread, and you shouldn't be so surprised that he drove halfway down the district just to find a specific brioche bun. It was funny and strange how the universe worked. At times you wondered if the probability of fate could be calculated—

“So it's just you tonight?” You asked him as the two of you lingered just outside the convenience store with your freshly purchased breads in hand. You had both immediately torn into your brioche as soon as you cleared the threshold, and the fluffy pastry filled your mouth and stomach with utter joy. It was buttery and sweet and soft… perfection.

Younghoon shoved the piece in his mouth into his cheek. “For the most part, yeah,” he replied, his shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “You?”

“Yeah, Kkura's at home, but she's on call with someone. Jungwoo did invite me out to that big bonfire at the bay tonight, but…” You shook your head.

His head tilted slightly. “Oh yeah I heard about that.” For a second, he didn't say anything, and then he murmured, “Crowd anxiety.”

You hummed, eyes shooting over to his. “Hm?”

“Crowd anxiety, right?” He asked with more confidence. “I—you can correct me if I'm wrong—but I just remember you mentioning something about crowd anxiety last year.”

Your chewing slowed for a moment, and a small smile curled onto your lips. “No, you got it right.” He remembered. Of course, he remembered. A warm feeling made itself comfortable in your chest.

Younghoon seemed to brighten. “Good, I'm glad I remembered correctly,” he said while leaning his shoulder against the wall of the convenience store. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever happen to watch that performance of 12 Angry Jurors I recommended?”

Uh oh. You could physically feel your neurons spark at the familiar title. It was the equivalent to a bell—no, alarm—rattling around inside your noggin.

Younghoon threw his head back in a laugh at how your face rearranged into an expression of pure mortification. "You look like I just caught you with a hand in the canary cage—oh my god, you should see your face!"

You were helpless at this point, and no words were coming to your tongue to rescue you. Screw all the differential calculus—where was language ability when you needed it? “I can explain myself,” was all you came up with.

He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing you with a pointed look, albeit still amused. "I'd love to hear this."

“You know that some things just slip my mind—”

“Yes, and that's why I watched you put it into your calendar.”

“And you know that the school has a bad habit of scheduling big events on the same night—”

He cocked a brow at you, leaning forward slightly. “I don't like where this is going, you workaholic.”

You gestured at him with the piece of bread in between your fingers, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from snorting. “I am not a workaholic,” you said firmly.

“Sure you aren't,” he replied back in a tone that indicated he thought the exact opposite.

“Anyways, they put the research symposium on the same night as the last showing—”

“Ah-ha!” He cried with a triumphant finger pointed at the sky. You were convinced that any second now, he was going to start twiddling an immaculately curled mustache. “So you did procrastinate!”

You pressed your lips together as you crumpled your empty packaging, then raised a finger up to scratch your head sheepishly. “Maybe I did.”

Younghoon drew out an exhale. “Aye, I knew it. You know, I think you're just about married to your work, Yn-ah.” His mouth quirked to the side and he scratched the underside of his jaw. “But I guess that's not a bad thing.”

You gave a small wince. “You're not mad I missed the play?”

“Mad? No, of course not. It wasn't my play,” he joked. “I know you have priorities, and me being mad would just be silly.”

“But you are disappointed,” you countered pointedly.

“Disappointed for you,” he countered. “That was a pretty good performance of 12 Angry Jurors. Though… there is one part that I would have chosen to represent differently, but…” He shrugged, letting the thought float out into the ether.

“What is it?” You prompted.

His lip curled upward and he let out a little chuckle. “I'm not telling you; it'll spoil the ending!”

You were unconvinced. “I'm never gonna see the play, Hoon.”

“Not with that attitude,” he shot back.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you from his sass that came out of left field for you. The sound of your joy made his smile widen and his eyes narrow into pretty, upturned crescent moons. The warmth all around you wasn't just from the evening's temperature. You'd forgotten just how easy it was to talk to Younghoon, and you decided that yes, you definitely missed him. But with all good things, it was written with a curtain call.

Younghoon seemed reluctant to push off of the wall and away from you. “Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer,” he said. There was a down turned angle to the corners of his smile now. “I do need to go re-find parking for when I have to go hunt my drunk friends down.”

Your laugh was small. “Good luck with that. And… don't worry about keeping me anywhere too long.”

“Thanks, and I'll keep that in mind.” His tongue stuck out between his teeth for a second, his head ducking down to shake his hair out of his eyes. “Hey, you still have my phone number, right?”

“I do.”

Whether harsh or dim lighting, it highlighted his features beautifully regardless. His eyes twinkled. “Now I know you won't ignore me if I send you another calc pun.”

“I'll look forward to it,” you promised.

The two of you were beginning to step toward your opposite directions, but failed to make your legs move any further. “Get home safe, Yn,” he murmured in goodbye. The possibility of him never reaching out crossed your mind. It wasn't like you didn't have faith that he would; rather, it was your own thoughts creeping into your head that you two came from different worlds. Despite the friendliness between you, that was the whole reason you shied away from ever reaching out. It was nothing personal against him.

EPISODE TWO: PASS GO & COLLECT TWO HUNDRED

GRAVITY reminded you of its existence when a bundle of fabric hit you square in the head. (Then again, you were always reminded of gravity’s existence when you thought about it…) “Yah—hey!” You clawed the article of fabric off your head and whirled around in your desk chair with a scowl. “Kkura!”

Sakura blinked innocently from where she stood at your closet, hand on her hip. “Put it on.”

You made a face as you straightened out the garment in your hands, the frown deepening when you realized which top it was. Or rather, which dress it was. “I haven’t seen this since I unpacked my clothes from boxes two years ago,” you whistled lowly. It was a black satin piece, something you brought along with you from home in case you ever decided to go to an event that called for a cocktail dress. Most of the formal events you attended though usually allowed you to get away with dress pants and a blouse. This poor piece of fabric had been relegated to the back of your closet since.

Your friend resumed sorting through your clothes for any alternatives or more of that kind. “I didn’t even know you owned something like that. I thought all your bottoms clung to your ankles unless they were shorts.”

“I have variety,” you sniffed and draped the dress over the back of your chair. “And what's wrong with bottoms going to my ankles? I like when they get to be warm.”

“That's what socks and shoes are for.”

“Says the girl who wears jeans that pretty much cover her shoes.”

Sakura shot you a look that reminded you of when your mother was exasperated, but she didn't want to admit that you were right. “Okay, so maybe we both have problems. But that's besides the point!” She walked away from your closet to sit herself on the edge of your bed, her hand dragging the arm of your desk chair to roll you over away from your desk. “We're going to a party tonight!”

She beamed, waving her hands around. When you only gave her a blank stare, she cleared her throat. “Ahem, I said, we're going to a party tonight! Woo!”

You pursed your lips. “Not very woo, to be honest.”

“You're not very woo,” she quipped in a deadpan.

“No, no, no!” You cut in, waving your finger back and forth. “Don't pretend like you wouldn't rather stay home than party either. And besides, you know that I don't do crowds.” You gazed off into space as if recalling the Great War with glazed-over eyes, already smelling the sweat and booze, and feeling the suffocating pressure in your chest as people squished up against you, and as you lost sight of your friend or anyone you knew for that matter, in the sea of—

“I know,” Sakura pushed out an exhale, and your eyes shuddered as you came out of that headspace. “But I think it'll be good for us. I mean, you need to get your eyes away from that grant application for one second, and I—”

“Need to stop playing League?” You suggested cheekily.

Your friend's scowl coaxed a high pitched wheezing sound out of you. She pursed her lips. “I was going to offer to hold your hand while we were in the house, but I guess not—”

“Okay, now let's not get ahead of ourselves!” You countered. The glint in Sakura's eyes when you interrupted her told you all you needed to know. Damn her cleverness; she'd got you once again.

Maybe she was the real mastermind.

Two hours later—the both of you dolled up and willpower strong (ish)—you clung to Sakura's hand as you and she slipped into the lively host house for tonight's festivities. Sweat already dampened the lines in your palm, and you moved your grip on your friend to hold onto her arm instead. You hadn't been to a house party or a frat party in a while, the last one being a birthday party for one of your friends from differential calculus turning twenty-one.

This instance was different. For one, there were far too many people packed together per square inch. And second, who thought turning down the lights was a good idea? You were already half blind as it was…

“I think we should get a drink!” Sakura shouted as she sent you an encouraging smile.

Your eyes widened as you narrowly missed getting someone's shoulder shoved into your face. “Yes, a drink sounds great!”

It was a war zone as the two of you maneuvered yourselves through the crowded living room space. The only reason people seemed to converge in that room in particular was because it had been turned into a makeshift dance floor. There were also people seated on the stairs, leaning over the upstairs landing, and meandering around in the halls.

You could feel your head begin to fog up as you unconsciously shifted closer to Sakura's side. Your friend curled her arm around your shoulders, deftly guiding you through the fray to the light at the end of the tunnel—the kitchen. There was a distinct lightening of your chest as you stepped foot into the less crowded space. The kitchen was still only dimly lit with the most minimal of light switches flipped on, but it was still enough where you could at least see your hand in front of your face and the light layer of sweat on Sakura’s brow. You made a swift scan of the area and spotted three people over by the kitchen counter, one of whom was slumped over the countertop, dozing off.

Oh, to be him right now.

“Oh, hello,” greeted one of the trio. He was stationed behind the counter like a bartender, his purple bangs brushed out of his face. The girl with him lifted her hand in a friendly wave.

“Hi, we’re not—uh, interrupting or anything?” Sakura said as your hold on her arm loosened considerably now that you were in an area that was much less crowded.

The two of them shook their heads with too much enthusiasm. “No, no! Definitely not.”

You and Sakura exchanged glances of incredulity, but didn’t push the topic any further. With pleasantries aside, the two of you excused yourselves to peruse the display of alcoholic beverages on the island space. You knew Sakura could hold her alcohol a decent amount, and so could you, so you both looked around for bottles of flavored soju to hold you over for the evening.

You dug around in one of the coolers and withdrew twin bottles of strawberry-flavored ones. “Kkura!”

Her blue-colored head perked up and she brightened as you waved your treasures around in the air. “Ooh, yay! You know, I think we should restock our stash of melon soju at home,” she mused and came over to where you were.

With your drinks secured, you each took the first sip like a shot, then linked arms to face the crowd again.

Drinking either made your anxiety rocket or relax—it depended on the beverage and the kind of day you’d had, but as you nursed your bottle for moments longer, the heaviness in your chest began to gradually recede.

The crowd anxiety you harbored was a byproduct of being the middle child of five siblings. You loved your family to bits, but sometimes home life was overwhelming. It wasn't that you got nervous around people, but more so in large bodies of people. The first year or so of your university life spent in large undergraduate lectures were absolute hell; there was an appeal to the upper division classes besides specialized interests.

But your friends were all aware and took good care of you, which you were more than grateful for.

“Is it just me—” Sakura said to you loudly with blue and purple lights painting her features, “—or does this soju taste really good tonight?”

You smacked your lips together as you savored the sweet taste. “You're definitely right,” you said. “We might have to go back for more.”

“If we can remember how to get there,” she giggled.

“Wait, what's in here?” You steered the two of you into a doorway to your left.

From the looks of the massive table stretching from one end to the next, you had stumbled upon the dining room. The room was large enough for there to be a few different groups of people occupying sections, but the largest one took reign over the farthest end. Your eyes widened in delight when you recognized two people in particular. “Oh wow.”

“Yn?” Chanhee exclaimed in disbelief. He was partly hunched over what looked like a board game as his deft fingers counted out paper money. “You're here?”

Everyone—well, almost everyone—turned their heads to see who Chanhee was talking about. Nonetheless, there were still quite the amount of eyes looking at you and you felt your palms begin to get sweaty around your bottle neck.

Younghoon gasped. “YN!” He grinned, lumbering over with his jelly-like limbs, tripping over people's legs and chairs. You could see the alcohol in his expression before you smelled it, but you couldn't just not hug him when he wrapped his arms around you in greeting. You hadn't seen him since last week at the convenience store but even then, the surprise had yet to escape you. What a cosmic coincidence.

“Hey, Hoon,” you chuckled in amusement, patting his back affectionately. You didn't know he would be so affectionate when drunk, but then again, this was the first time you were experiencing him like this.

“Big guy's a little drunk,” Sakura observed, then lifted her bottle to her lips. “Are you guys playing Monopoly?”

One of the guys, who looked the most of sound mind and state, nodded. “Yeah. D'you guys wanna play?”

Younghoon placed his hands on your shoulders with a goofy grin slipping onto his face as he pulled away. “You should play with us! Guys—” he announced to his friends, “—this is my bestest friend, Yn!”

“And her friend, Sakura,” you cut in, gesturing to Sakura with jazz hands.

“And we would love to play,” Sakura added.

You passed her a glance. There was mischief dancing in her eyes. You supposed at least you knew what you were getting into before jumping into any game with the Miyawaki Sakura. These poor chumps never stood a chance.

“Okay, but Chanhee's the iron,” remarked one of the other boys while you, Sakura, and Younghoon made your way over to where they all were gathered.

You snorted at Chanhee's less than pleased expression. “Why does he insist that you be the flat iron?” You nudged your friend. You met Chanhee and Jungwoo in a shared freshman differential calculus class where the three of you weathered the war together.

Chanhee sighed, his tongue poking his cheek. “Because apparently I have no ass.”

“BECAUSE YOU DON'T!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!”

With none of that settled, a good majority of the people present gathered around the Monopoly board on the table to play. You, Sakura, and Chanhee all clambered onto the dining table to sit while the others rounded the end of the table. It also gave you a little room to breathe while playing with such a large group.

“Ladies first,” declared one of the boys, who's name you learned was Sunwoo, his eyes at half mast and cheeks flushed like red grapefruit.

“If you insist,” Sakura sang and did a little dance as she swiped the dice up to roll.

You placed a hand over your eyes jokingly. “Look away!”

Haknyeon blinked with his eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because she's about to win faster than you can say pass go and collect two hundred.”

In retrospect, you saw this coming. Even if the universe could construct more possible futures than you had atoms on the tip of your pinky finger, you definitely could have seen this coming.

The aftermath immediately following Sakura's utter domination of the Monopoly board left all of her opponents in a sputtering mess. Your friend dusted her fingers off as if there were crumbs on them, a very satisfied Cheshire's cat grin crawling onto her lips. “You can fight it or just accept it,” she shrugged, taking the last swing of her soju.

Eric stared up at her from where he knelt in front of the table, gripping the edge with his palms. He was all wide-eyed and full of wonder. “Teach me your ways.”

“If you get me another soju,” she offered, gesturing with her empty bottle. She probably didn’t expect him to take her up on the offer, because her eyes widened a comical amount when the kid rocketed up to his feet and darted out of the room, faster than she could blink.

“Is he usually like that, so hyper?” You jested to Chanhee as you and he began reorganizing the paper money.

Your pink-haired friend laughed. “Kind of. Youngjae's cute.”

“And what am I, Channieeee?” Came an inebriated Changmin. He teetered over to where you and Chanhee were, then unceremoniously draped himself over the latter's back.

“Ahhhhhh,” Chanhee groaned, “Ji Changmin!”

“Answer my question!” His friend slurred. “I think Yn thinks I'm cute. D'you think I'm cute?” He asked, gazing up with you in a deep pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Don't answer that question, Yn. It's like making a deal with the Devil.”

Changmin scoffed, straightening to a surprisingly perfect posture. He slapped a hand to his chest in offense. “How could you! Chanhee-ssi! We're supposed to be friends!”

You chuckled, leaning out of that dumpster fire of a conversation, and finding yourself in the company of one very loopy bread enthusiast. Younghoon had slipped back from watching the game about three quarters of the way through and slumped into a chair with a can of beer and his phone. At some point, you had given up on Monopoly, too, and considered joining him. Now, you really did move over to join him.

His head perked up when you leaned over and poked his shoulder, a smile coming to his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Tired?”

He gave a slow, drawn-out nod. “Mhm,” he hummed. He lifted the can of beer to his lips and finished it off, then dropped his phone into his lap so he could rest his face between his hands. “I'm kind of hungry.”

You laughed. “I bet. How much did you drink, Hoon?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged.

“Long week?”

“Veeeery long week,” he nodded. “Like…” He spread his arms to his full wingspan, “this much.”

A giggle bubbled out of your mouth at how adorable he was when he was drunk.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “Oh my gosh, Yn! I never sent you the joke I found,” he frowned. “I found it and thought about sending it to you, but then…”

“You forgot?” You offered.

“I just didn't wanna bother you, to be honest.”

Oh. Something in you softened a great deal at the confession. You were always so sure that you would have been the bother, because it was difficult to imagine that someone who seemed so sure of himself like Younghoon might also feel the same. You mimicked his position with your hands holding up your face. “You're never a bother, Younghoon.”

“Even when I ask dumb questions about factoring?”

“There is no such thing as a dumb question.”

He pursed his lips into a line, unconvinced. “You're too nice. No wonder I liked doing math homework.”

You laughed again at the unexpected compliment, and Younghoon smiled to himself. “I'm glad you enjoyed doing your calc homework.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then snapped it shut with wide, doe-like eyes. “I was going to say a joke, but I realized that I probably shouldn't say that one in particular.”

“Wow, you have a filter when you're drunk?” You teased.

“Hey!” He pretended to sulk. “I'm not that drunk!”

A beat passed, and then he said, “I am still hungry though.” Yeah, definitely drunk.

Within fifteen minutes, you convinced Sakura to accompany you and Younghoon to the convenience store a couple blocks from your apartment. The three of you together managed to snag Chanhee to drive you all, as well as Changmin as an accessory since he and Chanhee lived together. Younghoon had once again insisted on this place in particular because he thoroughly enjoyed the brioche bun from the other day and had been missing it since. You and he settled down at the seating area in the corner of the store with your freshly-purchased bread, while the others traipsed around in search of other sustenance.

Younghoon's cheeks were full of brioche as he muttered a muffled, “You know why I like—calculus jokes?” He swallowed his bite, his eyebrows braiding together as he stared at his now empty package.

You quietly plucked the empty bag out of his hands and replaced it with yours.

He melted at the action. “I do.”

You bursted into a fit of giggles and Younghoon followed straight after you. Your face filled with fire and his bloomed like a blood red rose. The alcohol was slowly settling in. You were a lot more refreshed now that you were outside of the crowd setting, and your chest felt much lighter. “You do?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed, tearing the last bit of bread apart for you both to share instead. “You know why I like—” he hiccupped with the bread half in his mouth. His face morphed into one of confusion, then utter disdain.

You stifled a laugh with your bite of carbs. “Why do you like calculus jokes, Younghoon?” You asked to help him out.

He swallowed his bite. “Because—trig jokes are too graphic and algebra ones are too for—” He hiccupped again, his eyes shooting up toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“Formulaic?” You offered.

Younghoon frowned. “You know this one?”

“I enjoy guessing.”

“Hm,” he grunted, unconvinced. “There is one outlier though.” When he hiccupped for the third time, you patiently waited for him to fill in the blank. “Statistics.”

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I have to say, that was very subtle but very good.”

Younghoon beamed with pride. “I knew you would get i—” Another hiccup. He deadpanned. “I hate this.”

You stood up with a chuckle. “Let me get you some water.”

“Thanks,” he pouted. You felt his eyes on you the whole time you went over to the free water cooler over at the counter, and even as you brought him back the little paper cup of liquid.

As he drained the cup, you lingered next to where he sat rather than sitting back down. “Better?” You asked, then held your hand out to take the cup back if he wanted more.

He shook his head though, and he raised it up to his eyes while squinting one of them to aim it at the trash can behind your seat. “How do I get this exactly inside the trash?”

You blinked, eyeballing the distance between his seat and the trash can. The paper cup wasn't going to have a lot of weight while it was empty, but if he threw it with the opening facing him instead…

Younghoon made a noise that sounded a lot like a child's giggle. “Hehe, you're actually doing the math in your head.”

“You don't know that,” you muttered.

“Of course I know that.” He shucked the paper cup and it landed in the trash can with a clean swish sound. He threw his hands in the air. “Woo! Crowd goes wild.”

You laughed and slid back into your seat. “See, you didn't need math to get the cup into the trash can. Nice throw, Hoon.”

He grinned at you. “Thanks. You know how I knew you were doing the math in your head?”

“How?” You humored him amiably.

“Because you get this cute little wrinkle between your eyes, riiiight there—” He leaned forward and booped the place between your eyes, making you go cross-eyed for a split second. “—when you're processing info.”

“Processing info makes me sound like a computer,” you joked.

“Too bad you're not a keyboard,” he said with a sigh, “you'd be just my type.”

An unnaturally loud guffaw came out of your mouth and you slapped your hand over it. There was far too much mirth between the two of you right now. “You're telling me you're good at this drunk, too?” You shook your head, the laugh lingering on your tongue, “Y'know what? I shouldn't be surprised.”

If Younghoon could come up with pick-up lines to remember how to do calculus sober, then you should not have underestimated him drunk.

“Changmin, can you put the plunger down before we get kicked out?” Your head turned toward the sound of Chanhee's pure exhaustion as the three others rounded the corner. You imagined Chanhee dealt with drunk Changmin more than a few times to sound so exasperated. You didn't even want to know what Changmin was doing with the plunger.

Sakura, Chanhee, and Changmin bumbled over to where you and Younghoon sat, the supposed plunger nowhere to be seen. Chanhee brushed a lock of pink out of his eyes with a deep sigh. “Alright; shall we?”

EPISODE THREE: DO AS THE PHYSICISTS DO

THE hungrier Younghoon woke up, the more he likely had to drink the night prior. His stomach growled something horrific and he groaned, rolling his body over to squish his face into his pillow. There were no trains of thought running through his mind at the moment; there was only blissful quiet. And hunger. Goddamn it, he was hungry.

With a huff, he dragged himself upright as if he were rising from the dead. He gave his head a rough shake, eyes bleary as he blinked once… then twice… Oh, yuck. Sticky eyelashes.

There was something white on his desk that caught his eye. There was a yellow sticky note marked with Chanhee's chicken scratch beside it: Yn sent you home with this bottle of painkillers. In case you don't remember, lol.

Dear god, it was coming back to him now.

Younghoon lowered himself down onto the edge of his bed and dragged a hand down his face. Had he been weird? Did you think he was weird now?

His phone was buried somewhere beneath his mess of sheets, and he pulled up your contact that he still had saved from last year. The last message sent was from a brief conversation you both had after his calculus final about what you were both doing when you went home for the winter break. He could feel the warmth creeping up to his cheeks from his neck as he typed out the first message to you since: heyy… about last night…

It was a bit of a surprise when he saw your reply come in nearly straight away.

miss mastermind: LOL good morning, did u sleep okay? younghoon's phone: decently ig 😅 thanks for the painkillers btw i will def take a couple of those miss mastermind: yeah no worries younghoon's phone: how bad was i last night, yn 😭 u can tell me miss mastermind: 😭 u weren't that bad… okay maybe u started singing the calculus parody of bohemian rhapsody on the way to my apartment…

Younghoon snickered into his palm as he stared at the messages on the screen. That memory was definitely rolling back into his head now. It was that, along with the Monopoly game, then the convenience store, and finally, the walk to yours and Sakura's apartment before Chanhee dropped him off here.

miss mastermind: i can't say im too surprised u remembered it tho 😭 sometimes i forget that ur trained to remember things younghoon's phone: that's a funny way to describe being an actor LMAO younghoon's phone: but also i'd be lying if i didn't admit that im so embarrassed abt last night miss mastermind: nooo don't be!! it's all good, i thought u were a very cute drunk

He smiled against his hand. He typed: Well now I just have to make it up to you.

miss mastermind: u absolutely do not younghoon's phone: actually i do younghoon's phone: if i recall correctly, u gave me the rest of ur BREAD. that's like…|

He paused, having nearly written “marriage proposal.” Quickly backspacing, he replaced it with “donating an organ.” Maybe he was a little delusional, but he could've sworn he heard your laugh echoing in his head after he sent it and saw the indicator appear that you were typing. He reached over to grab the bottle of painkillers as he monitored your texts coming in.

miss mastermind: DONATING AN ORGAN… miss mastermind: yk, i knew u liked bread, but not THIS much younghoon's phone: but ofc :0 she's my first love miss mastermind: understood o7 now ik how to sway ur judgment ☝️ younghoon's phone: le gasp younghoon's phone: truly evil mastermind things only miss mastermind: the le gasp is taking me out 😭 younghoon's phone: how abt /i/ take u out instead 😗

As soon as he sent it, he grimaced. Oh no, this was going to be taken out of context. You were going to go through the whole “sorry, I'm not really interested in you” talk, and he would have to sit through it pretending like it didn't hurt—he didn't mean for it to sound like that. You were just friends after all.

younghoon's phone: I MEAN LIKE younghoon's phone: for watching over me and humoring me last night yk! it doesn't have to be something fancy either, just something that we can do as friends! and to say thanks

His grimace deepened. Those clarification texts did nothing to help his case. It also did not calm his nerves when you failed to respond immediately like you had been for the past few minutes. “Well, you've done it now,” he muttered to himself as he frowned down at the screen.

For a couple minutes, there was nothing from your end and he forced himself to drag his ass off the bed in search of sustenance. Hyunjae's door was closed, so the rest of the apartment was quiet as he bounded out of his room toward the kitchen. Periodically (read: every couple seconds), Younghoon would glance at his phone screen waiting for your reply. “What are you scared of?” He said to himself as he opened the fridge and scratched his jaw. “You literally came up with pick-up lines for calculus terms with her.”

There were leftovers from a couple nights ago, and Younghoon grabbed those to heat up. He closed the refrigerator with his hip, eyes darting to his phone, only to see his screen light up. He dropped the leftover container on the counter and scooped the device up.

miss mastermind: i really don't think it's necessary to pay it back or anything, but we can def hang out! miss mastermind: also sorry my sister stole my phone TT but i got it back haha It was sad how fast relief flushed through him at that moment. younghoon's phone: oh no dw abt it lol ur with family rn? miss mastermind: i am! my aunt's in town and so i was summoned home for brunch 🤧 younghoon's phone: …is there :’)) uhm french toast :’)) miss mastermind: *sent a photo* younghoon's phone: that was cruel. miss mastermind: HAHAHA SORRY 😭

Younghoon stuck his leftovers into the microwave to heat up, but was suddenly craving French toast. He knew for certain he didn't have everything to make it right this second though. Maybe he would wake Hyunjae up to go impromptu grocery shopping.

younghoon's phone: i don't wanna keep u away from ur family any longer, but lmk if u have any preferences for what we should do together miss mastermind: no prefs in particular and dw, talking to u helps distract me from the amount of chaos happening in this house :’) miss mastermind: i do have to go now tho unfortunately :l my sister looks like she's abt to snatch my phone again 😭 younghoon's phone: LOL 😭 okay i'll talk to u soon then younghoon's phone: enjoy ur toast :/ miss mastermind: HAHA i'll save u a slice hoon 😋

The microwave beeped its conclusion, and Younghoon pulled the piping hot bowl of leftover food out. As he took a stab at it with his fork, he came to the swift conclusion that he was not going to be full on this. As he shoveled the food into his mouth, he started toward Hyunjae's room to give his friend a very rude awakening. “HYUNJAE! WE NEED FRENCH TOAST!”

There was no better place than the convenience store at the ripe timestamp of ten o'clock to meet with a friend. You'd gotten back from your house at around four o'clock in the afternoon, so you weren't too tired, though the cleanup and all the social interaction was threatening to take you out. Any school work or grant application work would have to wait until tomorrow.

Nonetheless, you felt a giddy sort of excitement bubble up in you as you hustled yourself down the street to the convenience store to meet Younghoon. In your hands, you clutched a small, sandwich-sized Tupperware container with a slice of holy French toast within. It was your older brother's favorite thing to make when he had to contribute to a brunch (or, let's face it, any meal) spread.

Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.

He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”

“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.

“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”

“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.

Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”

You laughed. “No way.”

“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”

“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.

He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”

Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.

His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”

“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.

“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.

“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's relevant in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.

“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”

You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.

“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”

Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”

More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”

Younghoon returned to you with an entire treasure trove of goodies that you swore amounted to more than what was due. (That number to you was technically zero, but for Younghoon's insistence, it was slightly over zero… maybe one one-thousandth.) It was a smorgasbord of peach drinks with lychee jelly, potato chips, daifuku mochi, and of course, bread buns. It was a feast in its own right. You both dove straight into the snacks before you. When life gave one lemons, one was to make lemonade.

Younghoon popped a chip into his mouth. “Do you come here often? Is this your hangout spot?” He suddenly asked, then dipped his hand into the bag and waved a chip around in the air, a quizzical kink in his brow. “I mean, you do live close by and you seem to be very familiar with the place.”

You screwed the cap of your bottle of juice back on and wiggled your fingers as you surveyed what snack to eat next. “I do hang out here often—you’re right,” you replied. The daifuku looked very appetizing right about now. “I've been coming by since school started to knock out my grant app.”

He perked up curiously. “Grant app?”

“It's for the Space Grant.” In partnership with the national space organization, your university offered something called the Space Grant, which would grant three applicants with a monetary award that could be used toward their education in aerospace. You'd had your eye on it even before you began attending this school, and you were determined to be one of the three who won it this year.

After you briefed him on the cause of much of your recent stress, Younghoon gave an indulging nod. “Mmmmh, I see. You're still aerospace engineering then, right?”

“Yep,” you chirped. “me and propulsion theory to the end. I guess I'm an airplane kid.” At the latter, you made a face. You were the space version of an airplane kid… the alternate of train kids and car kids…

“Don't think about it too much,” he said with corners of his smile peeking out on either side of where he pressed his fist against his lips.

You tried not to. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

He breathed out an exhale. “Hm? Oh, like, with drama?”

“Sure, anything and everything about you.” You leaned your cheek against your fist and peered over at him. “We've been talking about me too much.”

“Nonsense,” he tsked. “You already know I recite lines, dabble in the hilariously good pun on occasion, and am incredibly obsessed with carbohydrates.”

“What more could I possibly wanna know?” You played along.

“Exactly.” He chuckled then, tongue darting out for a second to wet his lips. “Jokes aside, nothing too much. Hyunjae's best friend, HJ!Yn—she’s a director and writer, and she's putting on her own play in the spring that I'll be auditioning for.”

Your eyebrows arched in interest. “Oh? What's it about?”

“No clue.”

You nodded. “Ah, well, good luck—or, break a leg. People say that, right? It's not just in movies?”

“People do say that, yes,” he affirmed. “And thank you. I'm gonna start a part-time teaching job at a school nearby for their theater program, which I think will be fun.”

“That does sound fun,” you agreed. Because you had two younger siblings yourself, you knew that taking care of young ones was a lot, but if anyone could do it, you knew Younghoon could. You imagined he would do quite well with them. “Let me know when they have a performance!”

His eyes twinkled in the fluorescent lights; you were beginning to grow more accustomed to the way the harsh brightness painted his features softer. “You have to promise to come though. This is more important than 12 Angry Jurors.”

You placed a hand against your heart in playful solemnity. “I, Yn Ln, do solemnly swear that I will try my very best to make it to see their performance.”

He cleared his throat, his expression falling into an expertly grave facade. “I accept your promise,” he said and extended his hand out to you across the table, “shake my hand, and may the deal never be broken.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking out of character as you shook his hand. When you'd both withdrawn your hands, you watched him, fascinated, as he exited out of character. It was like a switch had been flicked off behind his eyes. Crazy.

Satisfied, Younghoon laced his fingers beneath his chin with a giddy, little smile on his face. “I'll save you an aisle seat.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. You really did—and he really remembered.

“And I'll make silly faces at you from the curtain wings.”

You laughed, telling him you couldn't wait.

EPISODE FOUR: TRAINS GO BOOM?

THERE were too many fires to put out at once. You were becoming the humanoid version of that dog in a burning house meme, and you didn't like it. It was not fine.

“Girl, I wish you'd told me, like, three weeks ago—”

You tasted the rejection a mile out.

“—I already committed to this robotics thing that night,” Jungwoo cried in anguish as he threw his head back. “I could've gone to the Space Gala! Instead, I'm watching people play with robots.”

You passed him a sympathetic look. “Robots are cool.”

“But I don't even get to do anything! I can only spectate!” You both stopped in the middle of your walk as he made unintelligible noises and gesticulations. Jungwoo grabbed your shoulders and shook them. “YN! WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? I have to pay to watch people have fun.”

Your head was wobbling back and forth like a bobble head. Thank god for spines. “Woo—I’m gonna be honest—”

He stopped shaking you.

“I have no idea,” you said to him. “But we are in the same boat.”

The two of you were currently situated on the engineering side of campus. Most of the buildings around you were geared toward the great spectrum of engineering students—from electrical and computer, to aerospace and nautical. You just got out of a numericals simulation course and caught up with Jungwoo coming out of the engineering library to present to him your newest dilemma.

Jungwoo's posture sank. “I only have regrets after pursuing MechE.”

You pursed your lips, lamely patting him on the shoulder. “I told you aero is cooler.”

“I won't dignify that with an answer,” he sulked. Jungwoo picked himself up, however, as he always did. He carded a hand through his floppy brown bangs, eyes flickering down to his phone screen before his eyeballs nearly fell out of his socket. “Oh shit—I’m gonna be late to advanced mathematics. Chanhee is gonna murder me.”

He bumped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Good luck on finding a plus one, Yn-ie!”

“Good luck getting there before Chanhee,” you hollered back.

Jungwoo threw you an expression that needed no subtitles, but fitting ones would read, That was so unnecessary!

As your friend sprinted in one direction, you began walking in the opposite direction. You had a little more than a couple hours before your next lecture, so you could probably either walk around and enjoy the day's nice weather or find a place to work. All bets were off when you felt your phone buzz from your pocket, and you saw the message on the screen. It was a text from your older sister: hey mom's asking if u have something to wear to the wedding lol.

The “LOL” at the end really downplayed how much stress this was going to give you. The entire event of The Wedding had slipped from your mind over the past week—actually, you were pretty sure you forgot the moment you got back into your car to drive home from brunch last weekend.

If you thought you had a large immediate family, your extended one would silence all thoughts instantly. One of your cousins-in-law was getting married in December, which meant you needed to find an outfit and mentally prepare yourself for the amount of people there were going to be in one room.

The Wedding made you anxious.

You shot your sister a frazzled text back. It was something along the lines of: maybe… lemme check the back of my closet… or pray I have funds in my bank account.

You somehow made your way to one of the green spaces on campus. It wasn't the main lawn that people picnicked or hung out on, but it was still just as beautiful as the main one. It also sat right by the café located down here in the engineering corner; you and your friends liked to loiter around here when the weather was nice.

It was exactly why you thought you were hallucinating when you saw Younghoon walking toward you.

“Younghoon?” You voice incredulously. “What're you doing here?”

He beamed at you, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Oh, you know, just taking a walk and enjoying this nice, autumn weather…”

“Down in the engineering buildings?”

He sniffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I wasn't purposely trying to look for you or anything,” he said and rocked back and forth on his heels.

You didn't need to know rocket science to read him. “Okay,” you drawled. “Say I believe you.”

“Divine coincidence,” he shrugged helplessly, jovially, even. His eyes were upturned in cute crescent moons. “Oh! And would you look at that—” He swung his backpack around to the front of his body and withdrew your plastic container from its depths, empty and clean, with even his sharpied name scrubbed off. “I just happened to have this on me.”

You sputtered out a laugh and accepted the container from him. “How funny that this pattern of events keeps happening.”

“Pfft, I know, right?” He brushed a hand through his hair. “So, uh, what're you up to?”

“What am I up to?” You parroted. “Not sure, to be honest. I've got a couple hours to kill. What about you?”

Younghoon gestured to the walkway that bordered the perimeter of the engineering lawn. You fell into step beside one another. “Nothing much, too. I kind of just needed a little walk outside to clear my head.”

You sighed, nodding. “I get that.”

“That sounded… very heavy,” he said, passing you a glance. “Something on your mind, Mastermind?”

“Oh, well,” you trailed off, uncertain of where to begin or how to begin. It seemed like Younghoon had something on his mind, too, and you didn't want to give him something else to hold onto. But when you looked over at him, there was a concentrated, concerned furrow in his brow; he was nowhere else but present with you.

You clasped the back of your neck and felt the knot in your muscles. “There's this thing.”

“Mhm.”

“Colloquially, it's referred to as the Space Gala, but it's kind of just an evening prepared by the Space Grant Consortium with a bunch of booths and a Q&A panel—things like that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wow, a whole consortium?”

“Yup.” You'd been a member of the student club associated with the consortium since freshman year, not just to keep up to date with information about the space grant, but because you enjoyed attending the events and learning about new innovations related to your desired field. “And it's a little formal where everyone dresses nicely to a degree, and each member can bring a plus one. Usually, Sakura comes with me, but something just came up for her that she can't avoid so—” You made a helpless gesture with your hands.

It was no fault of her own that she couldn't avoid the personal matter that came for her. You just needed to find someone to go with you now, but finding someone on such short notice was proving to be less than swift.

“Ah,” Younghoon said in understanding. “You'd like to attend with someone you're comfortable with because it's a large gathering of people, and—when is it?”

“Next Friday,” you grimaced.

He blinked. “Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “Hey, I mean, if you're looking for someone to go with—I dunno if you're comfortable with me compared to your closer friends—and I don't want to seem as if I'm inviting myself, but—”

“Younghoon,” you cut in with the knots in your neck and shoulders suddenly dissipating. You pressed your hands together, touching them to your lips. “Would you like to go to the Space Gala with me?”

The most beautiful smile blossomed onto his face then, and you swore to go it was warmer than the sun's beams. For a second, his cheekbones darkened with something bashful, but it was hidden in the blink of an eye, and you were met again with the charming Younghoon you knew well. “Why, there's nothing I would love to do more.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” he laughed. “I'm happy to go with you, Yn. I mean, what does Sakura usually do to help you when you're in crowded places?”

Hold my hand. That thought was immediately cast aside. That was probably far too much. You coughed, “Uhm, just—you know—stick around me. I get kind of overwhelmed when there are a lot of people around.”

“Overstimulation?” He offered sympathetically.

“I suppose that's the word I'm looking for.”

Younghoon nodded. “Okay. Hey, that's okay. You just tell me what I need to do to make you feel safe and I'll do it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you couldn't figure out the right words to express your gratitude. It was hard not to downplay your own misgivings; it took time to practice being patient with yourself. “Thanks, Hoon. I don't really… know what to say, but I really do appreciate it.”

“You don't have to say anything,” he said easily. “And I think, personally, I'm a great plus one.”

If only all of your troubles in life could be fixed so simply by Kim Younghoon being your plus one.

Your stroll together took you down toward the environmental science building. It was a path through a heavily forested area, though a little strange even being located somewhere south of the main campus. The paved sidewalk faded into a worn dirt path, and sunlight filtered in through the layers of leaves crisscrossing overhead.

“I've spilled my guts,” you piped up, “now what's on your mind?” You added swiftly, “If you're comfortable with sharing.”

Younghoon blew out an exhale from his mouth. “You know that job I mentioned? The one where I'm working with a youth theater program nearby?”

You nodded. “Yeah, how's that going, by the way?”

“I'm not sure,” he admitted with his mouth shifted to the side. “I had my first day with them on Wednesday, and I'm seeing them again today. I think I'm just nervous that they'll get bored of me.”

Ah, you could understand that. Surely your years helping out with your younger siblings could lend some use. It was rare to see Younghoon in this state of unease, and it was even more rare to think of someone who wouldn't like him. Seeing him troubled even a little made your stomach churn, and you wanted to help find a solution. “How old are they?”

“They’re all older primary school kids,” he said. “Young enough to not be scary middle schoolers and old enough to have some kind of attention span.”

You smiled to yourself. “Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about.”

“I knew you would.” He brightened. “You have younger siblings, don't you? Any chance one of them wants to become an actor?”

“Oh, hm,” you murmured, “Sadie's got her eyes set on ballet right now and I think Quincey's really only fascinated about his trains. They can be swayed though, I'm sure.”

“How do I keep a kid's interest though?”

You wish you had a formula for that. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “To be so honest with you, kids just like learning about dangerous shit.”

Younghoon wheezed. “What?”

You grabbed his shoulder as you both stopped in the walkway so he would face you. “Listen—no, I'm being serious, Younghoon!” You were trying to get a hold of this man as if you weren't gradually losing it, too. “Do you know how many times my little brother has made his trains go boom?”

“Yn.”

“He has problems, I know; he's like, four and a half or something.”

Younghoon's eyes were filled with mirth as he pressed his knuckles against his mouth. “Yn, do you know how insane that sounds?”

Your eyes shuddered in a blink. “Huh?”

He grappled onto your shoulders with another wheeze, eyes moist with laughter and a twinge of something else you couldn't process. “Yn, are you free next Friday at three?”

“Yeah?”

“Come with me to see the kids?”

“Okay.”

His tongue ran over his teeth as he grinned. Younghoon's head dipped in a nod, and he dropped his hands to the side. You didn't know what the hell just happened, but you had a feeling a solution was very much found.

EPISODE FIVE: TO INFINITY & BEYOND

“PLEASE tell me you're leaving the medieval torture devices out of the discussion.”

You passed him a look from the passenger's side of Younghoon's Prius. (It was objectively hilarious to watch this man fold his long limbs up to get in and out of this car; you didn’t know how the laws of nature even allowed a human with his height to own and drive one of these things.) “You say that like you were sure I wasn't.”

It was currently the Friday following, and the day you and Younghoon would both be each other's plus ones. Presently, you were in his car as he drove you both over to the elementary school where he was part-timing. Once this class was over, you would split off to prepare for tonight's Space Gala before meeting again at the venue on campus.

He turned his signal on as he pulled into the parking lot. “I'm just making sure.” He glanced over at you. “Are you excited?”

“To have about two dozen pairs of eyes on me?” You had faced crowds before and they weren't your forte, but you supposed if they were all bite-sized people this time, it wouldn't be so bad. Plus, Younghoon said they would be sitting down and working in groups most of the time anyways. The appeal of this crowd was that you didn't have to worry about getting swept up.

“They're all nice kids,” he said as if consoling you. “It'll be fun!”

“But I can talk about the trebuchet, right?” You asked after he parked and you were clambering out of the car. That one time you went down a fascinating rabbithole of medieval machinery was about to come in handy.

Younghoon paused with his hand on the top of his door. “That wasn't the one with the horse-pulling, was it?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

He locked the door and the two of you began walking side by side to cross the parking lot. There was a plastic clipboard in his hand made of a material in a shade of translucent neon green, something you expected a PE teacher would carry around, except this clipboard was armed with scripts and instructor notes. The little drama program at this school was currently only an after-school occurrence, but if this all went well, they might be granted permission from the school to start integrating it into everyday classes. It was exciting—you could remember your first years of exposure to things like liquid nitrogen ice cream, egg drop competitions, and the National Geographic issue called Astronauts. Perhaps in another life you would've been an astronaut, rather than the engineer who designed the vessel that would take them into space.

Needless to say, these were some of their most impressionable years, and Younghoon was going to be a big part of these kids’. It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

Sometime between today and last week, Younghoon brought you up to speed on what the kids were currently working on. The head instructor picked out something from an adapted version of How to Train Your Dragon, which in all honesty, was cool as fuck. Immediately, thoughts about how to build a harness apparatus for an actual dragon model came to your mind, but you would need to take a look at the dimensions of the stage and preferably leave flamethrowers out of the end result. That was if you were allowed to or even had the time to.

It would be fun though. Of course it was going to be fun.

Younghoon was the first one to enter the auditorium room. It was a multipurpose building with a large, open concept space lined in carpet with a stage at the furthest end and the doors to the library across the way. With the impending introduction, you stuck behind your friend as he poked his head in. Instant squeals of delight erupted at the sight of him. (He was kidding when he said he was worried about the kids ever getting bored of him, right?) “Younghoon!”

Younghoon’s smile was so big that you could see it even when his face was half turned. “Hi everyone—I brought a friend today. Let’s give her a nice, warm welcome, hm?” Younghoon stepped completely into the room now, his hand coming over to gently sweep you in with him by your shoulder. “This is Yn.”

You raised your hand in a small, awkward wave, a greeting somehow managing to come out of your mouth. There were so many little ones present and they were all sitting in a misshapen blob in the middle of the carpet, their backpacks lined up against one of the side walls. Interacting with children who weren’t your siblings or relatives was a lot different.

“Oh my gosh,” you heard one of them gasp. “Is she his partner?”

“No, she is not my partner—she’s a friend,” Younghoon replied pointedly. “Boys and girls can be friends, Roni.”

There was a boy with a gray colored Lightning McQueen jacket on who said, “That’s exactly what my brother said before he asked his best friend to be boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Well. You angled your head toward your counterpart and murmured to him, “How old did you say these kids were?”

“Now you know why I needed your help,” he joked. “Their brains run too fast.”

“And you think the two of ours can measure up?”

Another small one—she had her dark hair in twin pigtails, knotted off with bows—raised her hand. “Are you an actor like Younghoon?”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself as if there was someone else she could’ve been asking. “Oh, no, I don’t have the skillset to be an actor,” you mused. “I basically make airplanes and rockets.” Basically.

A flurry of excitement kicked up like a snowstorm, and you could feel your skin warm at the sudden increase in energy. Perhaps you should have led with that..? But even so, it was abrupt, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself—

Younghoon cleared his throat, “Hey guys, let’s keep our noise level down, please.”

In response to his request, the kids miraculously managed to quiet themselves down to a buzzing chatter. It hit you at that moment; Younghoon wasn’t just good with kids—he was incredible. Why did he ever think he needed your help when you could barely stutter out a sentence about what you did instead of acting?

“I told Yn about the show we’re putting on,” he said with everyone’s attention now settled on him, including yours, “and she was very excited about seeing it.”

“Is she gonna make us fly?” Someone asked with their eyes wide and big, and you swore you could fit the whole Milky Way within the awe that was in their irises. Kids, man.

“Only if you guys do good today,” Younghoon said. “Why don’t we break off into groups and show Miss Yn what we’ve been practicing, hm?”

You managed to pick out the Star Trek theme over the volume of your hair dryer, and swore loudly as you cut the device off and scurried into your room to find your phone. “Hello?” You answered as you brought your phone back with you into the bathroom.

“Hey,” answered Younghoon, “I was thinking of just picking you up to go to the thing tonight instead of just meeting there.”

It was approximately two hours since you and Younghoon departed from the elementary school. You were back at your apartment now, attempting to get your bearings and clean yourself up for the evening's festivities.

You could feel the gears turning in your head as you weighed your options. “I mean—only if it’s convenient.”

“Okay, I’ll be by at say… 7?”

“Sounds good,” you replied as you finished up styling your hair. Though nicknamed the Space Gala, it wasn’t meant to be incredibly formal like dinner jackets and evening gowns—nice shirts, ironed pants and skirts, and non-sneakers or non-sandals would do fine. “Thanks, Hoon.”

“Mhm!” He chirped to the accompaniment of rustling in the background.

“Also—” You grabbed your phone and flicked the bathroom light off. As you were making your way back into your bedroom, you saw Sakura peer out through her open doorway with curious eyes like that of a cat. She wagged her eyebrows at you knowingly and you shooed at her playfully. “Kim Younghoon, you are such a liar!”

His laugh was sincere and bright. “Technically, I never lied.”

“You are great with kids.”

“Being good with kids is a subjective quality, my friend,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Besides, you did great with them, too. They loved you.”

You pursed your lips in a sad, silly attempt to stay petty, but you couldn’t deny that you had a nice time with him and his students this afternoon. Once the initial jitters subsided, you loosened up a considerable amount. Adults oftentimes underestimated how perceptive kids were, but you had a feeling that they caught onto what made you feel overwhelmed pretty quickly. At least, most of the groups you were working with did.

But… you had fun. That was all that mattered in the end. You would enjoy going back to see them again. You kicked your door closed with your foot. “I had a good time,” you replied at last. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Yeah, of course. It was really fun having you there with me—us.”

You both paused on either end of the phone as the conversation reached a natural lull point. As you fitted on the freshly-steamed blouse you planned to wear tonight, you caught the time at the top of your phone screen. “Uh… so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes then?”

Shuffling from his end, and then, “Yep—twenty minutes! See you in a bit, Yn-ah.”

“Bye, Hoon!”

Twenty minutes flew by faster than 299,000,000 meters per second—at least, to you. One moment, you were ducking into the passenger side seat of Younghoon’s Prius, and the next, the two of you were being admitted in through the doors of the annual Space Gala. The usual “venue” that the consortium booked for this event was one of the campus’s main buildings that housed three large lecture rooms on the first floor, as well as two lecture halls on the second floor across from another large event space.

The lobby was filled with a crush of people, with some faces you recognized and others that you didn't. There were tables draped over with black cloth that hosted educational mini games where one could win free button pins and stickers, booths with companies associated with the consortium present to pitch potential internships, and everything in between. Younghoon stuck to your side like glue. You felt the warmth of his hand either between your shoulder blades or on one of your shoulders as the two of you maneuvered your way through the crowd.

It wasn’t until you hit the farther end of the lobby where there was a clearing of people that you felt the pressure in your sternum alleviate. You imagined your gaze appeared a little empty, glassy even, but it was all just an overwhelming wave of sensations on all ends.

“How’re you feeling?” You heard Younghoon’s voice close to your ear so you could hear him but anyone else around you couldn’t.

You focused on that—his voice. “I’m fine,” you assured him with a small smile. “I’m excited to be here and it’s just a lot.”

Younghoon smiled back at you and you felt his palm warm little circles on your back. “Take your time. The guy at the front says it’ll be another half hour until we can expect the panel to start.”

“Kkura and I—we, uh, usually go in a little earlier than everyone else.” Depending on the year, you and Sakura either occupied seats in the front couple of rows or one of the balcony seats. The former was to distract you from the idea of several hundred other people being in the room behind you, whereas the latter was so you had a large space between you and the crowd. Both were methods that you and your friend deduced were the best at soothing any feelings of overwhelm.

He nodded. “Okay, yeah, we can still do that. Are there any tables you wanna visit before we go in?”

“Actually,” you said, and your heart leapt at the memory of one booth you visited every year, “I have to show you this one thing—it’s so neat. It might be on the other side of the lobby, but we can cut upstairs and get to it that way.” Where there was a will, there was most definitely a way.

Younghoon’s expression mirrored the excitement in yours. “Lead on, Yn-ah,” he chuckled and let you grab his hand to show him why you loved what you did.

This year was dubbed a balcony year.

From yours and Younghoon’s perch up in the balcony rows, you could peer down at the hundreds of heads below, as well as the presentations given onstage. You were always blown away by the new information and possibilities brought up during the year’s presentations, as well as during the question and answer section where audience members could either line up to ask the panelists their queries directly or send them anonymously to an online platform.

Your preferred method was most definitely the latter because public speaking was not your forte, even though it meant you would have less probability for your questions to be answered. One year, Kkura had practically escorted you up to a panelist when everyone was leaving because you had a burning question.

But this year was different. All of your awe was coupled with the amount of marvel expressed by your partner for the evening. If you were fascinated by what was being discussed below, then Younghoon just entered a whole new galaxy.

You found yourself glancing over at him the whole night to watch his reaction. Periodically, your eyes would meet, and you might have been embarrassed to be caught looking at him, but it was completely dashed away by the pure reverence that was stark on his face.

At some point, the evening did have to come to an end, and you and Younghoon lingered up in the balcony to let everyone else below you trickle out first.

“That,” Younghoon whistled low, “was incredible. I’m so—” He made unintelligible hand gestures before coming up with a word, “—bedazzled. I’m positively bedazzled.”

You grinned. “I’m very pleased to hear that you’re bedazzled.”

“I mean, why don’t we hear about this on the news?” He queried, eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. He reached up to adjust the wiggly star headband on top of his head that he won from a spin-the-wheel stall earlier. “If they talked about finding organic chemicals on faraway planets on the evening news, viewership from my devices would skyrocket for them.”

“Don’t we all wish they talked about space on the news,” you sighed as you leaned your cheek against your fist. “But also, as Dr. Cho mentioned, we can’t get too excited yet. Organic chemicals for us might not mean organic chemicals for an alien species.”

Younghoon nodded slowly. “Right,” he drawled. “That’s so interesting to think about… that we’re possibly not alone and that they could either be very similar to us or very different, or maybe even somewhere in between.”

“Isn’t it crazy?” You couldn’t count the amount of times you got lost in a rabbithole of research when you were supposed to be working on assignments instead. Your eyes darted down to the lower levels to check the population density, and garnered that you could still wait at least a couple minutes more. “Hey, you know, if you're interested in this stuff, then you should come to some of the planetarium’s presentation nights sometime.”

Your counterpart’s eyes widened like the lens of a telescope. “We have a planetarium?”

You giggled. “Yeah, silly. What did you think the astronomy tower was for?”

“We have an astronomy tower?”

You smiled wide against your knuckles as you nodded. “Maybe you should wander down by the engineering buildings more often.”

Younghoon made an incredulous face. “Maybe I should.” He considered something for a moment and you watched the smile blossom onto his face again. “Though, I have a feeling that if I looked into a telescope, I'd only see you—’cause you're a star.”

“That was awful,” you snorted into your hand, shaking your head.

“Not my best work,” he admitted. He could admit defeat when he was met by it, but he wouldn't let it hinder his efforts. “You know, I think Galileo was wrong.”

“How so?” You asked as you motioned for the two of you to start gathering your things.

“You're the center of my universe.”

You were pretty sure the lower levels could hear your laugh echo against the walls. “Oh my god.”

“Or maybe that just makes you the sun,” he said to you in a singsong tone while trailing after you.

“I’m walking home, Younghoon.”

“You can try, sunshine.”

EPISODE SIX: THE ONE WHERE IT GETS WORSE

MURPHY'S Law stated that “anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” with an adage of “at the worst possible time.” You needed to have words with this Murphy.

You were now in the thralls of midterm season. It was common knowledge and experience among STEM students that once midterm season began, it didn't stop until finals hit. You hadn't even realized how fast midterms had arrived until it was pouncing on you like a predator in the brush. You were currently being torn apart by the jaws of a hungry lion called Life.

“I haven't finished the grant app, Kkura.” You stared at the white wall behind your desk with a blank glaze over your eyeballs. There were sticky notes and pieces of paper tacked there with reminders and diagrams like they were makeshift whiteboards, but you weren't looking at them.

“My aerothermo exam is in two days,” you continued on in a droning voice, “and the internship interview is the day after.”

You spun around in your chair to face where Sakura was perched crisscrossed on your bed with a sympathetic frown. The internship addition was a new one. You had sent in your application a couple months ago, and results of applicants who had passed to the interview phase were only recently released. While you were relieved beyond measure that you made it, the interview couldn't have come at a worse time.

“Well,” she began, “we already decided that I'm going to help you prepare for the interview, Yn. The grant app isn't due for another month. All you need to worry about right now is the aerothermo exam, right?”

When she put it that way… “You're right,” you sighed and lifted your hands up to dig the heels of your palm into your eyes. Sometimes it just took an outside perspective to knock a little logic into you.

The Star Trek theme song blared from your phone, and you both startled at the abruptness. You fumbled for the device, then quickly picked up the phone call when you saw that it was from your mom. “Hi, mom. Everything okay?”

“Your brother can't make it to the wedding.”

You made a face. “I'm guessing you don't mean Quincey…”

You could imagine the exasperation on your mom's face from the other side of the phone. “Yn, I call you because you're the logical one in the family.”

If only she knew what pain you were putting yourself through because of your current lack of sense. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Why can't Justin make it?” Justin was your eldest brother who had the divine French toast recipe.

“He's flying to Paris for his culinary school interview. You know I always tell that boy to double check his schedules—he never listens,” your mom exhaled sharply. You could hear the loud clatter of the dryer in the background; she must be doing laundry.

“Sounds like Justin,” you murmured. “So what's the problem? Can't we just go sans Justin?”

“We already RSVP'd with the seven of us, and your cousin already paid for the reception meal in full. We can't have an empty, wasted seat, Yn-ah.”

You frowned. You supposed that would be a problem then. “Why don't we just find someone to bring along as a plus-one?”

“That's what I was thinking,” she replied. “I was going to invite Rian, you know, the boy from next door.”

Somehow, your mood managed to sour further. You and Sakura made eye contact, and she tilted her head to the side in question. You gave her an emphatic thumb's down before replying to your mom, “Wait—can we—mom, can we not invite Rian?” You dragged your free hand down the side of your face, and you saw Sakura grimace when you said that guy's name.

“Why not?”

“Be… because,” you stammered, pushing out a sigh when you weren't sure how to describe your incredible disdain for your childhood next-door neighbor. He was your age, and fortunately, you were never matchmade with him. Unfortunately, he was a jerk with inferiority issues and delighted in competing with you in everything. “He wouldn't want to come with,” you said lamely. His presence would do the exact opposite of soothing your anxiety.

Sakura gestured with her hands. Tell her he's full of shit!

Oh, you wished.

“Yn.” Your mother could smell lies, even through the phone. “I wouldn't know who else to invite.”

“Daphne's partner!” You exclaimed desperately. Daphne was your older sister who attended another college on the other side of the city getting her master's degree. “Can't we invite Sam?”

“Sam's in Vietnam in December.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Yn.”

“Sorry.” Dear fuck, you were slipping. You needed a solution—anything at all. Something to put out one fire, even temporarily. “What if I came up with a plus one?” You regretted it immediately.

“Oh, like Sakura? I wouldn't mind if you brought her.”

Anyone but Rian, anyone but Rian. “Yeah,” you drawled. “That's who I had in mind.” You lifted your head to meet your friend's eyes again, and she knitted her brows in confusion. You mouthed that you would tell her in a moment.

When you and your mom hung up, you deflated in your chair, dropping your phone onto your chest. “I'm fucked.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I told her I would bring you to the wedding with us.”

Sakura sat there for a moment to process the information. “Yn, honey, I'm going to be in Japan in December.”

“I know,” you cried.

“Who are you bringing then?”

“I don't know.”

Murphy of Murphy's Law had better sleep with one eye open.

It was likely in your worst interest to be at the convenience store at midnight rather than in your bed asleep, attempting to let your brain process the concepts from your aerothermodynamics course. Against your better judgment, though, you were here, slumped over your usual table and seat as you watched YouTube and sipped on a box of chocolate milk.

In the distance, the door opened and closed, but the sound was muffled through your earbuds. Out of your peripherals, someone materialized next to you. You peered up at the tall man beside you now, blocking out the fluorescent LEDs from burning your eyes. “Hey,” you said quietly.

Younghoon took in your state with sad eyes. “I got your text.”

“I didn't think you'd be awake.” Didn't he have a rehearsal tomorrow morning? Or rather, later this morning.

“Well, I'm glad I was awake, for starters.” He frowned and then leaned over you to gently wrap you up in his arms. “Rough night?”

Your face was buried in the fabric of his hoodie. This was nice. “Rough everything.”

“Ah, one of those,” he sympathized. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. Thank you for coming though.” You leaned back and patted the empty seat next to you. “Wanna watch squirrels with me?”

You watched his expression falter and fill with surprised amusement with a pinch of confusion. “Did you—you just said squirrels, right?”

“Yeah, they're competing in a backyard Olympics for this trophy of walnuts.”

He sat down with you to watch the squirrels. In your free time, you liked watching engineering or science-type videos on the internet. Most of them were as educational as they were entertaining, like the backyard squirrel series, where this man used his mechanical engineering degree to build advanced obstacles to test and observe the vast capabilities of the squirrel.

You shared your earbud with Younghoon so he could listen, and you were now connected by a wire. He mimicked your position, too, with his chin nestled onto his folded arms over the tabletop.

You weren't sure what possessed him to drive all the way over here at such an ungodly hour of night, but you were grateful for his company, nonetheless. Even if it felt like the sky was falling, you could let this moment in time exist outside the conventional timeline. It could be its own singular moment, just you and Younghoon.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how it all came back to this. You'd never thought you were meant to see him again after tutoring him, let alone having spent so much time with him again these past few weeks. If you didn't belong in his world, and vice versa, then what was this?

You swore the monotonous buzzing from the lights above was making your eyelids slowly fall with the weight of lead.

Younghoon's eyes fluttered over to you just as you were about to doze off. He sat up and turned the video off. “Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking your arm.

You hummed, the bags under your eyes becoming worse by the second. “Huh?”

He chuckled under his breath as you put your head back down. “We can watch this another day,” he promised, patting your head. “We should get you home though so you can sleep.”

“Oh my gosh,” you groaned and picked yourself up, “you have rehearsal tomorrow morning—what time is it?”

“Hey, don't worry about it, love.” He was wrapping your earbud wire around his fingers into a neat, little bundle. “I'll be fine. Let's go home, though, yeah?”

You pressed your palms to your eyes in a desperate attempt to rehydrate them. “Okay, yeah. Sorry, Hoon.”

“Don't say sorry,” he cooed, pressing your earbuds into the palm of your hand and tucking your phone into your pocket. “I felt a lot better meeting you here. Do you feel a little better?”

You gave a small nod. Your brain was too muddled, too exhausted, to really comprehend what was being expressed as plain as the sun at high noon on his face.

“Then that's all that matters.” There was a pause. Your vision was blurry for the second that his eyes wandered somewhere else. You didn't know if you just didn't see it or if you just chose to not acknowledge it.

Then the moment passed, as all things did in the flow of nature, and he walked you home.

EPISODE SEVEN: PARTY PEOPLE (BBANGNYU'S VERSION)

“CHANHEE?”

Choi Chanhee swirled the straw of his melted iced americano around in its cup. “Yup.”

“Who would you invite to a wedding?” You posed, twirling around the mechanical pencil in your hand between your fingers. You didn't even know why you still had the writing utensil out—everyone had pretty much gone home for the evening.

He released a sigh indicative of a very tired data science major, who doubled-majored in math. “The person I'm marrying? I dunno.”

You and Chanhee were stuck with the late shift at the math tutoring center on a Monday night. The crowd usually cleared out by nine o'clock, but the two of you weren't technically allowed to leave until nine-thirty. Most nights when you were stuck with this shift, you and he didn't mind the quiet in order to finish assignments of your own.

Jungwoo would have been here to suffer with you, too, but he had an excuse tonight. Something about an emergency at the NCT fraternity house.

You blew a puff of air through your mouth. “Not your wedding; just a wedding. One that you're invited to.”

“You're not inviting me, are you?”

“You don't wanna be my plus one for a wedding?” You grinned.

“Depends…” He hummed pleasantly, “what're they serving?” That was a valid question that you lacked an answer to.

In front of you on your laptop screen sat your incomplete space grant application. After the hell that was last week, you somehow survived it by the seat of your pants. Now, you needed to focus on your two other exams for this week, the wedding debacle, this grant app, and praying that the interview had gone as well as you thought it had.

So many things to think about, so little brain cells.

You glanced over at the corner of your laptop screen to see how much time you had left to try and be productive. From the corner of your eye, you saw the swift movements of Chanhee's thumbs flying over his phone keyboard.

You turned to your application to read over your responses for the ten thousandth time. “Who've you been texting all night, Chanhee?”

“Huh? Oh, my best friend.”

You hummed. “The one that goes to the uni across the country, right?”

His response was cut off by the sound of the tutoring center doors opening. Both of you looked up in tandem, mentally bracing yourselves for—

“Younghoon?”

There was a weird fluttery feeling in your chest as he beamed at the both of you and bounded over from the front doors. “Hey guys! I was just walking past and thought I would swing by.”

Chanhee's eyebrows flew all the way up to his pink hairline. “Yes, because it makes complete sense why you would be meandering around south campus at nine o'clock at night,” he quipped.

Younghoon seemed, to his credit, unbothered by Chanhee pointing out the obvious. He stole one of the chairs from another table and sat down across from you and Chanhee. “You guys don't play any music when everyone's gone?”

“Sometimes we do,” you replied, glancing up from your computer screen before replacing your word choice somewhere.

Chanhee nodded his agreement as he set his phone down on the table and laced his fingers under his chin. “Oh, Younghoon-ah, I've been meaning to discuss something with you.”

Younghoon perked up. “What's up?”

“What're we gonna do about your friend and my friend?”

You figured out pretty quickly that you had no idea what they were talking about. Even after having played Monopoly with some of them a few weeks ago, it still hadn't hit you as to the full-scale of these two guys’ shared social circles. Sure, you orbited some friend groups of a decent size, but it felt like they all hung out with each other at least once a week.

“Ah,” Younghoon drawled with a knowing sparkle in his eyes, “Jacob and JC!Yn, right? I don't know; I find it kind of amusing.”

Chanhee frowned. A furrow had formed between his brows. “If amusing means to the extent where I'd like to rip my hair out, that is. Did you know that Jacob sent me to go intervene when Jaehyun was talking to JC!Yn at the hot tub?”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm.” Chanhee made a vague flourish with his wrist in the air. “And did you see how they were at the movie night on Saturday?”

Younghoon pressed his lips together. “I did see that. He kept looking over when Juyeon was braiding her hair,” he chuckled.

“I am at odds, Younghoon-ah!” Chanhee groaned into his palms. “I just need them to kiss already and get it over with.”

“So you wanna meddle?”

“I'm not saying we should meddle, but…” He drawled with cheeky, puckered lips and his palms open upward. His gaze went to you on his right side, and he knocked the back of his knuckles against your arm. “Oy, Yn-ah. What do you think?”

You hummed and drew your eyes up from your laptop screen, meeting Younghoon's gaze first. Glancing over to the friend who addressed you, you said, “What are we talking about?”

“Girl, you need to get off that grant app.”

“This grant app needs to get off me,” you shot back. “I need it to be perfect, Chanhee.”

“Nothing is perfect, Yn,” he told you. “You know what you should do? You should ask JC!Yn to look over it. That might ease your mind.”

“I'll think about it,” you said at last in order to appease him. The smart thing would've been to heed his advice and ask his friend to proofread it. Perhaps you would later this week.

“Good. Anyways, I was asking you what you thought about how to matchmake our two friends,” resumed Chanhee. He tucked his limbs inward as he spun around in his chair.

“You’re going to have to give me more context than that.” Besides that, were you really the best option to ask for advice? You weren't in a relationship, and now that you thought about it, neither were the two of them.

You saw Chanhee and Younghoon exchange glances and there seemed to be a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. At last, Younghoon gave his counterpart a flourishing gesture with his hand as if saying 'all yours.’ Chanhee cleared his throat. “So Younghoon's friend Kevin, who is Jacob's best friend, introduced JC!Yn to Jacob.”

“And we're pretty sure they like each other,” Younghoon added on. “There was this pool party a couple weekends ago, and they came to the party together. This past weekend, they looked pretty cozy at the movie night that Jacob and Kevin hosted at their apartment, too.”

You had only ever met JC!Yn once in passing, and it was because Chanhee forgot his calculator at the library right before an exam, and she had been the champion to deliver it to him in the examination hall lobby. She was a real one, that was for sure.

You pursed your lips and rested your chin on your fist. “Aren't all of you guys single?” Was what you led with.

Chanhee deadpanned. “That's not the point…”

“I do have to point that out though because you ask me like I would know what to do,” you laughed, vaguely gesturing back to yourself. “I'm just as single as the rest of you.”

The two boys’ eyes whipped back to one another for a millisecond, before looking away.

You nearly leapt to your feet, exclaiming, “I saw that! What was that?”

“Nothing,” they answered at once. They did realize it made them look all the more conspicuous, right?

“We just realized that not all of us are single,” Younghoon raced to smooth over his and Chanhee's fib. “My friend Sangyeon—”

Chanhee snorted, “Hyunjae told me he doesn't believe him.”

“And you believe Hyunjae?”

“Touché.”

You unconsciously began spinning your pencil around your fingers again. “Wait, so Sangyeon is cuffed?”

Younghoon turned to you to explain. Apparently, his original group of friends that didn't include Chanhee's extension, kept a running joke that Sangyeon was either making up his girlfriend or was keeping her stashed on a secret island in the Bahamas. None of them had seen any evidence that she truly existed, but Younghoon wasn't convinced that Sangyeon was the type of person to go through all of this strife just to prove a point.

After all of that, you were more confused than before. “But why wouldn't he just show you a picture of her and prove that he met this girl?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Chanhee interjected, flinging his arms up in the air. “It would be so easy to just silence us with a little picture!”

Younghoon, clearly amused by the discourse taking place, leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Beats me. I personally think it's because she works for a secret government agency, which is why she can't exist online.”

Chanhee's expression flattened. “Uh-huh.”

“But Juyeon says that it's probably because if he only shows a picture, we might accuse him of Photoshop,” Younghoon continued. “Which, in retrospect, says a lot about his faith in us.”

You made a face, your eyebrows arching high. “Oh, for sure.”

Debating on conspiracy theories about mystery girlfriends made the last thirty minutes of yours and Chanhee's shift fly by fast. Suffice to say, you hadn’t worked on your application nearly as much as you wanted to, but you were entertained for thirty minutes, which was just as well. Didn’t doctors say that it was good to laugh at least three times a day…? Good thing you weren’t going into medicine.

The three of you started packing everything up at exactly nine-thirty. There was no reason to stay any longer when there was literally no one else here anyway.

As you shoved your laptop into your backpack, Younghoon knocked on the table in front of you. “Wanna grab dinner after this?”

You opened your mouth to reply when Chanhee beat you to it. He hadn’t seen Younghoon grab your attention, and didn’t know who he was addressing. “Oh, that’s nice of you to as—”

“I meant Yn.”

You closed your eyes and sank your teeth into your bottom lip to have some dignity left (read: not start wheezing). Chanhee’s eyes had gone wide, eyebrows rocketing back up to his hairline. He scoffed, “Wow.”

Younghoon grinned cheekily. “Sorry, Chanhee. We have a routine.”

With Chanhee now thoroughly offended, your little trio filed out of the tutoring center. You locked the doors up behind you once you flicked off all the lights in the room. The walk down in south campus was arguably nicer than north campus, even if you were a little biased because this was where you considered your “turf” to be. South campus was much better illuminated than north campus with pretty, little lamp posts and five different styles of architecture from building to building. You were sure it was an eyesore to any of the architecture majors here, but they were interesting to look at when you were suffering in the engineering library. (And at least they had windows.)

You took up the position in between Younghoon and Chanhee, the latter of whom seemed to let his pettiness about the rejected dinner date go.

“Guys,” Younghoon suddenly said. The corner of his lips were turned upward in a degree you could only define as mischievous. “What is the most terrifying word in physics?”

You scrunched your brows together. There was no way you should get this wrong, but then again, physics wasn't exactly a subject where anyone got everything right—

“Oops.”

You snorted, and beside you, Chanhee's lip wobbled as he desperately held in a reaction. You couldn't believe you didn't see this coming and tried to think about it logically.

Younghoon shoved his hands in his pockets and swiped his tongue over his lower lip through a smile. “Aw, come on! I cracked up when I heard that one in a TikTok for the first time.”

“I've just heard some of your better ones,” you confessed. “Chanhee, did I tell you that Younghoon used to wax poetic to study for calc?”

Chanhee's mouth curled up into an amused little smile. “You did! I think it's cute.”

“You know, I think it's cute, too.”

In the dim lighting from the nearby lamp posts, Younghoon's cheekbones flushed something rosy. “You flatter me.”

As the three of you climbed up the stairs that would bring you to main campus, Chanhee piped up, “What if we just slipped Jacob and JC!Yn notes from the other person?”

You shook your head. “Not this again.”

“I'm serious!” He said in earnest. “It would just be innocent, little pick-up lines or something. Nothing like a whole ass confession.”

“We're reading Much Ado About Nothing in my Shakespeare lecture right now,” said Younghoon, “and the cast does something similar to one of the couples they're trying to get together. Sounds kind of fun, to be honest.”

“Not you, too!”

Younghoon slung an arm around your shoulders and flourished his free arm out toward the heavens. There was a pleasant feeling attached to the weight of his arm around you. “C’mon, use that mastermind brain of yours and imagine! Jacob's would just say something like—I dunno—if I whispered in thine ear that thou hast a body of beauty, wouldst thou hold it against me?”

“Wow,” you marveled, ignoring the amount of fluttering happening in your stomach, “that was pretty good.”

He flashed you a boyish smile. “Thank you.”

“But you're not doing it.”

The boys on either side of you released twin groans of anguish into the night, as if their mother had just denied them access to their Xbox for the evening. You rolled your eyes lightly. “I feel like relationships are like spontaneous processes—they’ll get to the right configuration eventually, organically. In other words, we should leave them be and let them figure it out for themselves.” You walked in front and turned around to face them so you could pin them both down with a firm look.

Younghoon raised his arms up in playful surrender. “Promise we won't meddle.”

“I hate when you use entropy statistics against me.” Chanhee gave a reluctant nod, sighing once again, “But I agree. We won’t meddle.”

EPISODE EIGHT: DON'T ASK ME THE COLOR OF ANYTHING

IT was the Star Trek theme song that blasted you out of your study bubble. In retrospect, the theme song was quite a subdued piece compared to something like the Star Wars theme, but for some reason you thought it was a good idea to turn the volume all the way up for your ringer whenever you were home. (God forbid you accidentally left it on when you were in class…) From your desk, you scooted over to grab your phone from where it was on your bed. Younghoon's caller ID beamed its cute smile up at you—the picture you'd set was of him and his dog from home, Bori. You had yet to meet Bori, but when you asked him for a picture for his contact photo, he sent this one.

You accepted the call. “Hello?”

“I just realized I pressed Call instead of Facetime. Please accept the Facetime thingy.”

Why did he sound so cute? You lifted the phone away from your ear and saw the request on the screen. While pressing the green accept button, you said to him, “What if I said no?”

“Then it must be Opposite Day,” he sang from the other side of the screen, his face manifesting before you. He was holding his phone up above him so you could see he was lying down in bed, his dark hair strewn over the pillow beneath his head. His initial smile widened to reach his eyes when your side of the screen loaded and he could see you. “There she is.”

“Hi Hoon,” you greeted with a small chuckle. You looked around your cluttered workspace for a place to prop your phone up against.

“What're you up to?” He asked while he adjusted himself to sit up against his headboard.

“I—” you made a sound of accomplishment as your phone stayed upright in the space between your desk lamp and a pebble paperweight painted like a rocket that your little sister made you, “—am brushing up on fluid mechanics.”

“Aah… fluid mechanics.” You could hear the slight intonation in his words.

“Don't say the joke.”

“I wasn't gonna say the joke!” He giggled. When he calmed, he pressed his mouth in a smile and made his cheeks look as squishy as a loaf of bread. “Is this a bad time though?”

You shook your head, slipping your pencil behind your ear so you could lace your fingers beneath your chin. “No, it’s not a bad time. This isn’t super important; I just didn’t want old material to jumpscare me when I go into our quiz this week.”

Younghoon nodded in understanding. “I see, I see. That means it’s good that I interrupted your workaholic tendencies.”

You glanced away with your hand half covering your face, and it coaxed a laugh from him that seemed to warm the room. You sputtered, “In my defense—” you paused, your lips parted; it hit you then that you had no defense.

His eyes were the shapes of upturned crescent moons, like shallow bowls filled with mirth. “It’s cute when you try to deny it.”

“It’s not denial—I didn’t deny it,” you pointed out.

“Uh-huh,” he snorted, completely unconvinced, “whatever you say, Miss Mastermind. I should call you Miss Workaholic instead.”

“Aish,” you chided weakly. You glanced down at the old notes that were splayed out before you on your desk. All of the concepts were relatively familiar to you; it was just to refresh yourself. To be frank, though, it wasn’t like you’d spent all evening reviewing old material. Every thirty minutes or so, you could spend another half hour on your phone, getting lost in the entertainment there. You weren’t that much of a workaholic.

You realized that there had been a pregnant moment of silence just then, and when you looked back over at the phone screen, found him watching you with a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You cleared your throat, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and to take the pencil there down. “So, uhm, any reason in particular for calling?”

His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, as if snapping out of a daze. “Hm? Oh, not really. I just wanted to see what you were up to.” He cocked his head to the side in thought. “Random question, but are you doing anything for Halloween?”

Ah, you nearly forgot that was coming up. With all of the chaos happening in your life at the moment, Halloween was the last thing on your mind.

“Not at the moment,” you told him. You mused, “I don’t think I’ve done anything proper for Halloween since I moved out of my childhood house.” Going Trick-or-Treating as an adolescent was definitely a core memory for you, and was still a prevalent tradition in your household because of the little ones, Sadie and Quincey. As you got older, however, you usually opted to stay at home and answer the door to hand out candy. You still dressed up for the fun of it, and decorating the house was always half the joy of the holiday. You always considered trying to build some kind of candy contraption or maybe setting up a haunted maze in the front lawn, but alas, maybe in the future. “What about you?”

“Well, there’s that party that Changmin and Chanhee are hosting at their place.”

That rang a bell. “Ohh, shit. I totally forgot about that.” Chanhee had mentioned something about that the other night at the tutoring center, but you didn’t make any promises about attending—he knew your crowd preferences, so he didn’t push it. You were sure his and his friend’s parties were a blast though.

Younghoon shifted his lounging position, so now he was laying on his stomach with his legs kicking up from behind him. “Would you wanna come with? I remember that you went to that party with Sakura in September, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to come to this one.”

You tapped the end of your pencil against the pages of your notebook. “I’m not really sure,” you confessed. “I think I originally didn’t plan on going.”

“Ah.”

Guilt swirled around in the pit of your stomach at the disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry; I probably sound like such a party pooper.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he rushed to assure you. “I get that it might not be something you’re into, and that’s completely fine, you know? I think it would be fun to go with you, but not if you wouldn’t have fun there.”

You inhaled deeply. “I mean… it’s not that I don’t think I would have fun once I—y’know, drank something—but yeah, I think a night of just horror movies or something will do me better.”

He nodded and carded a hand through his hair. “Of course; I understand. And your schedule’s been pretty packed lately, so it’ll be like a little break for you,” he offered.

“Yeah, thanks, Hoon.” You shot him a small smile. It was really cool that he was being so understanding, but you shouldn’t have anticipated anything less from Kim Younghoon. He’d always been this cool.

You learned to read the room, and the energy definitely was lower than before. “Do you know what you’re gonna go dressed as?” You asked in hopes of bringing that energy back up.

He perked up a bit at the question. “I—actually, I have no idea,” he chuckled. “I was thinking a vampire, but I feel like that should just be saved as my backup. That idea’s a little tired.”

Younghoon as a vampire—? Wake up, Yn. You laughed to yourself as a thought popped into your head. “It would be so funny if you showed up as Bill Nye the Science Guy.”

He snorted. “That's not a bad idea. I'm not a science guy, but I am an actor.”

“Hey, there you go,” you said. You pursed your lips. “Hm… I feel like your face is too pretty to fuck up—”

“Thanks?” He guffawed, hand propping his head up. “I'm scared to ask you what that even means.” You didn’t want to tell him exactly what you had in mind, but it seemed that he beat you to a punchline. “To be honest, I'd so let you fuck up my face.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hyunjae? Hyunjae, is that you?” Younghoon called out behind him toward his closed bedroom door. His ears were rosy as blood, and he was biting his lip through a grin. “I've gotta go, Yn-ie. Byeee!”

“Younghoon, hey! Don't hang—”

He hung up. You took a moment to collect yourself after what he said, as if you could even begin to unpack its meaning.

You could hear the partygoers even from the relative serenity of the back corner of the convenience store. It was Halloween night, and when the sun sank down into the horizon to signal the coming of night, so too did it mark the beginning of the Hallow's Eve festivities.

You had just dropped Sakura off at one of her friends’ house for a party, and she would text you later when she was done. The plan tonight was originally to chill at home and watch scary movies, but you instead found yourself at your second home with your laptop playing The Nightmare Before Christmas. On your head sat a deep purple colored witch's hat on a headband, with glittery black tulle creating a skirt at its base. Even if you didn't dress up completely, you would still pop on a bit of holiday spirit.

With you was a 6-pack of Halloween themed mini cupcakes and a carton of strawberry milk. They would function as your popcorn for the movie and your candy for the night.

From beside you on the table, your phone buzzed. You could see the words diffuse rapidly onto your screen, your eyes snagging on the parts where your older sister was asking about Sakura coming to the wedding even though she was supposed to be in Japan. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to text back. Fuck, the wedding. You texted back a very fast, ‘uhm abt that.’

daphne: ykw don't tell me anything ignorance is bliss daphne: okay what i came here to do originally… daphne: *sent images* your phone: awwwh how cute!! wait wtf since when was quincey into power rangers 😭😭 daphne: dear god don't get me started

You laughed and sent her a final text back commenting about the pictures she sent of her, Sam, Sadie, and Quincey all dressed up to go Trick-or-Treating tonight. As usual, your family extended an invitation to you, but you declined for this year.

“Damn, I should've dressed up like the power rangers.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice right by your ear, and you ripped your earbud out, whipping around to see who it was. There was Younghoon, laughing at your expense with a very amused smile flitting over his face from your reaction.

About five different emotions passed over you at once, preventing you from coming up with an adequate response to his sudden appearance. Your mouth, frankly, had gone dry. His hair was colored and highlighted with strands of platinum silver, artfully arranged around a pair of black sunglasses atop his head. He was clad in all black—the leather jacket seated on his shoulders embellished with white detailing, and his skin glimmering with silver chains. He had on a pair of motorcycle gloves that he was now shucking off, and you realized his lips were a shade darker than they usually were—wait… were they moving?

“—Yn. Yn-iee—”

You blinked long and hard. “Yeah. I'm here.”

The corner of his lips curled upward. “I just said I was sorry for sneaking up on you.”

“Oh.” Wait, he smelled so good right now… Not that he didn't smell good every other day, but…

“Oh,” he parroted with a cock of his eyebrow. “So, what do you think?” He asked the question you didn't even realize you would fear him to ask, and gestured down to the outfit. Younghoon sighed and it sounded half like a laugh. “I feel ridiculous actually. Hyunjae was like—you should do the biker thing with me. And I was like, what do you mean 'biker thing?’ Apparently this is the biker thing.”

You were slapping yourself across the face internally to say something. “You went from Prius driver to motorcycle rider.”

Younghoon nearly keeled over and had to turn to the side to laugh. “I still am a Prius driver,” he said sheepishly.

Your eyes flickered up and down his form again, unable to string together words once more. “Uhm, your hair is silver.”

“Excellent observation.” He reached over and poked the little witch hat on top of your head. “This is cute, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, reaching up to touch either side of the headband. “I'm just here waiting for Kkura.”

“Oh, are you guys watching something together?”

You shook your head and turned back to your computer screen to wake it up. “No, I volunteered to be her chauffeur tonight. She's at a party right now, but I figured since I had time to kill, I could chill here.”

“It feels like a crime for you to be here all alone,” he said with one of his hands braced against the back of your chair and the other on the table next to your laptop. He was leaning over you now to peer at your screen because the brightness of the store lights made it difficult to see from where he stood, but it made him all the more apparent to your senses.

Goddamn, he was everywhere. “Well, I should be asking you as to why you're here,” you said with a cough. “Don't you have a party to go to, Biker Boy?”

He chuckled at the nickname and stood back up. “I do, but Chanhee and Changmin forgot to get triple A batteries for their battery-operated creepy candy bowl,” he said. “But I'm glad I was sent out to run an errand now.”

You shifted your mouth to the side in a sorry attempt to hide your contentment with that answer. “I'm glad, too. You—the costume looks good, by the way.”

Younghoon sat down in his usual seat across from you. “Thank you,” he replied, pleased. “I almost went out as a loaf of bread. Did you know Party City has these bread loaf costumes that you can wear around your head?”

“I'm not surprised at all,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.

You found yourself unhappy with the idea of Younghoon leaving after this. Once your conversation was over, you would go back to your movie and he would go back to his party. Before, you didn't mind the idea of having an evening to yourself, but with him right here in front of you, it was difficult to go back.

Him being here with you felt right. You couldn't explain why you felt that way. He looked like he was about to say something, and you rushed to beat him to it. “Want a cupcake?” You blurted. Before you could go back on your words, you gently pried a miniature cupcake out from its containment and offered it to him.

Younghoon lit up, delicately transferring the treat to his own hands. “I wasn't going to ask, but don't mind if I do. Thanks, Yn.”

You hummed happily as he peeled off the cupcake wrapper and took a generous bite. He did a little happy dance in his seat, and you smiled half into your fist as you leaned part of your cheek onto it.

“That's actually so good,” he said with wide, confused eyes as he reached toward the furthest end of the table for a napkin in the aluminum canister. “Why haven't I tried those before? I think I'm gonna have to take some back.”

“I don't have them often, but they are quite the guilty pleasure,” you agreed. “I would totally sponsor a couple packs for you to take to the party.”

Younghoon made a nodding motion with his head as he dabbed the napkin over his lips. He pulled the napkin away to inspect it, frowning. “Shit, I need to reapply,” he murmured and fished around in his jacket pocket for a tube of the shade that he had wiped off his lips.

Some force from the universe compelled you to do something fucking stupid. “I can help.” No, you can't! Why would you say that, why would you say—

Surprise flickered across his face. “Oh? Sure, I'd appreciate it,” he said, and held the lip gloss out to you. It was a muted brown-ish pink color that would leave a stain of itself upon the wearer's lips, but also had an initial glossy appearance.

With no room for backpedaling, you stood up and took the lip product from him. You stood before him now, between his legs with his hands resting on his knees.

He peered up at you through his dark lashes, lips parted gently.

You wiped the excess product off the doe foot applicator against the rim of the packaging, and then smeared the product over his bottom lip. You took your finger to smudge the color around, making quick work with a second layer for shine. When you were done, you hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath the whole time. You passed the lip product back to him quietly. “All done,” you whispered.

He didn't even look at your handiwork—he didn't need to. He smiled; you thought you saw him steal a glance at some place other than your eyes. “Thanks, love.”

You were right before when you thought you would dread him leaving. He did go, at some point, after retrieving what he had come here for along with at least three half-dozen containers of cupcakes. He sent you a wave from the door, and then he was gone into the night.

You sat there without doing much or thinking anything for a moment or two, your fingertips stained with the color of his lips.

Regret wormed a hole through your stomach, and it felt like it was gaping wide open. Maybe you should've gone to the party, or maybe you should have asked him to stay. Maybe you should have said something different, and maybe… maybe you should have…

Kissed him?

Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the seat across the table from you, and you arrived at a truth you could no longer ignore.

your phone: how do u know u like a guy

kkuramon &lt;3 : IM LEAVING THIS PARTY RIGHT NOW.

EPISODE NINE: ARE YOU A CHICKEN, YN? I DIDN'T THINK SO!

“I'M not going to tell him.”

“Yn,” Sakura said gravely with a deep inhale, “for the last time, are you a chicken?”

You blinked. “I'm sorry, wha—”

“Bawk bawk. Are you a chicken?”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at her. It was a crazy image, this view of your best friend, as she stood in front of you with her futuristic spacecore outfit from the Halloween party she left early, squawking like a chicken. “I think you are drunk.”

Sakura deadpanned. “I'm not drunk.”

“And I'm in denial.”

“Oh, good. So you admit it.”

After rapid discourse in your texts, you went to pick Sakura up from her party, then brought her straight home so you could both deconstruct what exactly you concluded while at the convenience store. You recalled everything that happened while Younghoon was there with you, reliving that exact moment it hit you square in the face like an oncoming train.

And now you were here, being asked if you were a chicken and being accused of denial.

You huffed. “I can't just tell him that I like him! It's not—it’s not that big of a deal. It's not like I'm in love with him or anything!” You… you weren't in love, were you…?

Sakura braced both hands on her hips. “You say it's not a big deal, but here we are,” she said with a vague gesture to your bedroom. “Honey,” she continued, but softer, “whether you're in love with him or you just like him more than a friend, it's something. It's different. Are you sure you never felt anything for him before? Not even unconsciously?”

“I mean—” you started, “—I might have. I probably have,” you corrected, cradling your chin in your palm. “I thought he was really cool when I met him last year, but I think that was just one of those silly crushes, y'know? Like the ones you get on people you pass by and know you probably won't meet again?”

She hummed and lowered herself onto the edge of your bed. “Yeah, I get that.”

You scooted your desk chair over to where she was and flopped face first over your bed with a groan. You felt her hand gently smooth down the back of your head. “I dunno, Kkura. Maybe I've always felt something different about him.”

“That could be it,” she said. “And you just didn't realize until it was in your face. Sometimes it sneaks up on you.”

If that wasn't the understatement of the century.

“Why are you so scared of telling him, Yn-ie? From everything I've seen and heard from you, it feels like he probably feels the same way.”

“I'm biased.”

Sakura exhaled. “Logic your way out of this one.”

“Okay, if I logic my way out of this one, I could still get rejected.”

You could feel her eyes roll, even with your face smooshed into the sheets. “I know the prospect of all this is scary, but it's meant to be. That means you care, Yn. That means you care about your friendship with Younghoon, and that's inherently a good thing.”

When you didn't say anything else in response, she added, “You know your feelings will intensify if you leave them unaddressed. Murphy's Law.”

You hated when she was right.

You didn't see Younghoon for at least another week. Once Halloween had gone and passed, November hit everyone in one big fell swoop. Midterms the Sequel was abound, and it did not choose mercy. But amongst the abundance of fires cropping up, you managed to spray some water on a couple to keep the flames tame. (Do not do this to real fires; it won't help.)

It was the middle of the week when you and Younghoon agreed to meet back at the convenience store to hang out. Over the past few days, you kept your interactions with him over text and call as normal as possible, even though you felt like your newly realized feelings were glaringly obvious. If Younghoon thought you were being awkward though, he didn't say.

You and Sakura were in the kitchen right before you were about to take off to head to the convenience store. She was busy making a late lunch (read: dinner); you were busy worrying about everything.

“I've got an idea,” she said, raising the spatula in her hand into the air. “You should bring Younghoon to the wedding.”

You nearly choked on air. “I'm sorry? Say that again.”

With her back turned to you, she gave an emphasized shrug. “If you insist. I was suggesting that you bring Younghoon to the wedding instead of me. It would be killing two birds with one stone.”

“How in the world is that killing two birds with one stone?”

“Well, when you inevitably confess your feelings to him, and he confesses that he reciprocates, you will then have a date for the wedding.” She turned the stove off before twirling around on her slippered-heel, a proud smile on her face. “Ta-da!”

“I just think that if—and big emphasis on if—we do end up together, a wedding would be a lot as an outing.” You imagined how horrific and intimidating that would be, meeting your entire family and extended family after only just deciding to try out dating someone. Even thinking about it sounded overwhelming beyond means, and you couldn't do that to Younghoon.

She angled her head to the side. “But this is Younghoon we're talking about. He literally went to the Space Gala with you on short notice and made you feel safe and comfortable the whole time.”

You sent her a pointed look. “That's not the same thing and you know it.”

She sighed. “Alright. Then what about driving over to meet you at the convenience store at midnight when he had an early rehearsal the next day? He calls you and texts you day and night; he drops by the tutoring center on your shifts to keep you company… I don't know what else you need to convince you.”

You didn't like the spark of hope she was lighting up in your chest. You didn't want to lose a good friend if you were reading him wrong. Was he not charismatic to everyone he met though?

At some point, you got your ass up and down the street. There was a soft tune playing in the background as you wandered through the aisles in search of something to distract you from the anxious racing of your heartbeat. Younghoon had sent you a heads up about an hour ago that he was going to be late because he was coming from an outing, so you had a little more time to mentally prepare. Maybe you would chalk up the courage to tell him. Maybe you really could do it. If you just ripped off the bandaid, whether it be for better or for worse, you could at least say you tried.

You made up your mind then, somewhere in the bread aisle between the wheat and rye.

By the time Younghoon arrived, out of breath and grinning from ear to ear, you managed to hype yourself up to tell him.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said between breaths as he claimed the seat across from you. He paused, sniffing, then grimacing. “And also for the fact that I reek of barbeque.”

“Don't worry about it,” you assured him, teasingly, “the only thing you should be sorry about is not inviting me.”

Younghoon laughed. “You're very right, as always. My friends and I were having an emergency meeting about Jacob and JC!Yn.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? Any updates?”

He groaned then, burying his face into the palms of his hands. Uh oh. “They almost kissed until Eric interrupted them.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yes!” He wailed in agony, eyes screwed closed with imaginary tears running down his cheeks. “It was painful to hear but it was also painful watching those two idiots interact at the table. My friends and I, minus JC!Yn and Jacob—we met a little beforehand to talk about what went down when Eric interrupted, and the lovebirds just came in later.” Younghoon huffed a rough sigh from his lips, partnered with a shake of his head. Then he broke into a smile, the corners of the expression soft, as he looked at you from across the table. He rested his cheek against his hand, chin inclining toward you, “So what's going on with you, hm? I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages.”

“We did call on Tuesday,” you pointed out.

He wrinkled his nose with a frown and shrugged. “It's not the same. I missed you.”

Your heart was beating so loud that you could count them out—thump, thump, thump— “I—missed you, too,” you said in earnest. Tell him, Yn. Tell him.

“You know, I think it's funny how we lost touch for so long, but we eventually came back together,” he murmured as he absentmindedly traced out shapes along the table top. “I guess if it's meant to be, then it'll be.”

The way he worded it… you were spinning yourselves in circles in your head trying to define it, to crack it open and solve it like you could a word problem. If the rotator wheel spins at a velocity of—but at this point, you were certain that you could figure out one of those much faster than this. “Yeah,” you agreed quietly.

“Something on your mind, Yn?” He asked you then. His eyes returned to you and you were suddenly stuck. The earth stopped spinning for this single moment in time, all because of the way this man looked at you.

You swallowed. “I…” The words dissipated in your throat. You couldn't do it.

Younghoon waited patiently, though. He considered you and your wide eyes filled with something he didn't know how to label, and maybe a dash of another thing he hoped to find. “Why don't we take a walk?”

With no reason to refuse, you stood up from your seat with him. He smiled at you as he brushed his hand over your back to guide you to the door, then retracted it to tuck his hand into his pocket.

November had so far shown the city a brisk, deep autumn. The trees were already close to completely shedding their leaves for the oncoming winter, and they were often swept away by a cool draft. You zipped up your jacket as the two of you began walking in the direction opposite to your apartment. Whichever way the wind took you both, you supposed.

For the first time in a long time, you and Younghoon were quiet. You were trapped in your own head with the courage you had earlier having mysteriously disappeared. He seemed content enough to let you ponder on it and to speak whenever you were ready.

“My cousin is getting married,” you found yourself saying.

That didn't seem to be the thing he expected to come from your mouth. Surprise flashed across his features and he clambered for a response. “Oh, well, congratulations. When's the wedding?”

“Thanks.” You said, “It’s in December. I… you know I have a big family.”

“Right.” His gaze softened considerably. “I imagine it must be a lot for you then—a family event of that size.”

You realized that you didn't convey exactly what you wanted to get across, and yet, you were reminded again how much he cared. “Yeah,” you murmured. “My brother Justin isn't gonna be able to make it after we already RSVP'd under my immediate family of seven people, and so my mom and I are trying to find someone to fill that space. She wanted to invite this one guy—he was my next-door neighbor for some time. Not my favorite person in the world because he's kind of got it out for me,” you said next.

You were rounding the corner again to loop back down the street toward your apartment. The organ in your chest was flying against your ribcage now; there wasn't much time left to tell him. You could see the metaphorical sand in the glass draining.

“So you're not going to invite this guy then, right?”

You nodded. “And I offered up Sakura just to appease her for the time being, but Sakura's gonna be in Japan in December.”

Younghoon trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. “I see.”

“That's my… that's my dilemma.” No, that isn't your only dilemma, Yn! Tell him! But the apartment was coming up in view, and you would be at the entrance in just a few more minutes.

You and Younghoon slowed your pace as you rounded the block again to cross the street. When you glanced over at him, you swore you could see the conflict warring across his face. If he saw gears turn in your head, you could see a battle scene in his eyes.

“Is this all that's been bothering you?” He asked at last, and you didn't know what to do about the slight intonation in his voice, like he was hoping for something. “I'm not invalidating your stress or anything, I was just—you know, if you had anything else you needed to get off your chest—”

“No, it's just that.” You could practically hear Sakura clucking like a chicken from wherever she was. You quickly added as the apartment door came into view, “It's—it’s not a big deal—finding a plus one, I mean. I'll figure it out.”

Plus one. He'd been your plus one to the Space Gala, but this was different. This was so much more different than that.

But maybe your words sounded like a dismissal or he was thrown off today. He cupped the back of his neck with a small nod. “Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Hoon.”

He smiled then, the same soft-cornered one that reached his eyes, and that you'd come to be familiar with. You couldn't imagine seeing that face reject your feelings even if you knew he would probably let you down easily.

EPISODE TEN: YOU SPELL PARALLELISM WITH THREE L'S BECAUSE THERE ARE THREE LOSERS

THE engineering library at nine o'clock at night was a familiar environment for you, Chanhee, and Jungwoo. Dead week—the week before finals—meant that it saw the three of you twice as much, even on the weekend before Dead week began. It didn't mean you got studying done though. Sometimes you were just there.

“You guys are so fake! How could I not be updated on every single microevent in your lives?” Jungwoo cried, gesticulating his hands around far too fast for your brain to comprehend. He was about three shots of espresso and five hours in, if that explained things. You were all aware that your habits were not healthy, but no college kid was. “And you call me your friend?”

The thing that had triggered this reaction from Jungwoo had been Chanhee's fault. Or maybe that was your fault. Either way, the topic somehow had gone from calculating your respective grades with probable curves (calculating failure, at this rate) to you and Younghoon.

You liked to argue there was no you and Younghoon—it was just you-comma-Younghoon. Chanhee had sassed back at you with a swift, “Oh, so she's an English major now?” As if English majors were the only ones who could understand grammar and punctuation.

Jungwoo, having had no context given whatsoever, realized quickly that he was out of the loop. Now, you were here.

“I demand the tea!” He screeched, hitting the palm of his hand against the table. Thank god there was no one else here to listen in or shush you and your friends. If there was one thing about the engineering library, it was how out of the way it was from the main campus.

“I really don't think you should have anything else caffeinated—”

Jungwoo's head whipped toward you and his nostrils were flared. “You must think you're so funny,” he said with narrowed eyes and a saccharine smile. You would have been scared had you not seen this man once blow a massive snot bubble all over his differential calculus homework. (If anyone found out about that, it most definitely didn’t come from your lips…)

Your eyes shuddered, an innocent smile coming to your lips. “I was just saying.”

“Shuuush!” He stopped, thought about it, then retracted. “Actually, don't shush. Tell me what you and Chanhee know, but I don't.”

Chanhee snorted from his side of the table. “That's a long list.”

Jungwoo cut a glare toward Chanhee. “I despise you both,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but all jokes aside,” Chanhee said as he tucked his tablet stylus behind his ear. He cocked a high-arched brow your way. “What is going on, Yn? Do update us. Or for Jungwoo’s sake, start from the beginning.”

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected Chanhee to turn on you, too, but perhaps you should have seen this coming. A generous amount of time had passed since you last failed to confess your feelings to one Kim Younghoon. Between that day and today, you had managed to finally submit your space grant application and passed your second round of midterms by the seat of your pants (hip, hip, hooray). Since that day, you and Younghoon would continue to interact as normal, except for the fact that you were practically walking on eggshells around him.

Just the other day, you both fell asleep while on-call with each other. When you’d woken up the morning afterward, you discovered that, one, it was a good thing you plugged your phone into its charging cord; and two, that Younghoon was just as pretty asleep as he was awake.

To this news, Chanhee merely fluttered his lengthy lashes, unimpressed. “And you’re telling me you don’t think he feels the same way?” He asked.

At some point, Jungwoo had broken out a half-eaten granola bar from his bag to munch on as a replacement for popcorn. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much,” he said, shoving the bite into his cheek so he could speak. “And Kim Younghoon, Yn? Wooooow, I see you girl. That guy was insane as Charles Bingley in freshman year.”

“You’re so right,” Chanhee chimed in with an indulgent nod, pointing his stylus at Jungwoo. “I don’t know if insane was the right word, but he encapsulated the Bingley gent essence quite nicely.”

“I never saw that one,” you confessed.

Jungwoo’s face scrunched up on one side. “Clearly. At least he knows that you’re not just in it for his celebrity status.”

You leaned back in your chair and dragged your hands down the length of your face with an embarrassed groan. Only your guy friends; Chanhee and Jungwoo, as expected, gave a light laugh at your expense. “I don't like you guys.”

“C’mon Yn-ie,” Chanhee teased and reached over to poke your arm with the butt of his stylus pen. When you peeked one eye out between your fingers, he puckered his lips at you like a penguin. “Love you.”

You reluctantly slid your hands down. “If I'm gonna be clowned for my feelings, I'd rather be in bed!” You declared, taking your phone from the pile at the center of the table to check the time. It was nearly ten o'clock at this rate. Ah, and had anything productive been done? Absolutely none. Perfectly on track for the three of you.

“Nooo, don't go, Yn! You're too sexy,” Jungwoo whined.

“I think you should tell Younghoon your feelings,” said Chanhee. He hiked his feet onto the chair, hugging his knees to his chest. “You need to razz him up.”

You frowned. “I thought it was ‘rizz.’”

“You don't have rizz, though, so I thought razz would be the next best thing,” he said flippantly.

“Burn!” Jungwoo exclaimed with his hand cupped around his mouth, and you were suddenly reminded that he was in a frat.

You leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand with a dramatic sigh. “You're right; I do not have rizz.”

Chanhee's brows scrunched together in concern. “Oh my god, I thought you would fight back—of course, you have rizz, Yn! You snagged Kim Younghoon!”

Before you could tell him you’d given up on fighting back or before Jungwoo could give up on his sanity, Chanhee's phone buzzed from where it was sitting at the center of the table. You expected it to be Chanhee's friend, CH!Yn, since she was the most probable person texting at this hour; instead, Chanhee let out a delighted gasp, slapping his hand to his mouth at whatever notification he found waiting for him.

Both you and Jungwoo leapt to your feet and scrambled to peer over his shoulders. “What? Who is it?”

“It's JC!Yn,” he shrieked. “She's asking about flower shops.”

You and Jungwoo stayed perched over either of Chanhee's shoulders to see what would transpire. It was a brief exchange within the group chat of three people that included JC!Yn, Changmin, and Chanhee. Chanhee somehow knew about a flower shop in the university district that was open until eleven o'clock. After all your years of attending this school, you had no idea it even existed.

But once JC!Yn was off on her way, Chanhee turned his phone off with a prediction that he would not be hearing from her until at least tomorrow morning. “Looks like someone's getting confessed to tonight,” he snickered to himself.

Jungwoo was back in his original seat—a generous wording, since he leaned a good eighty percent of his body over the table with his knees braced on the chair, legs kicking up behind him. “You know what you should do, Yn? You should sweep Younghoon off his feet just like that. I'm sure he adores receiving flowers.”

“Would it not be as special though if he gets flowers after every show?” You asked genuinely, pressing the butt of your pen between your lips. “I'm not against getting him flowers.” Flowers would be a good idea… you'd seen plenty of movies that had romanticized the idea of giving and receiving flowers in your mind, and it would be an obvious gesture. At the very least, you could pull a Younghoon and tell him the flowers reminded you of him because they were gorgeous—or something to that effect. Maybe you really didn't have rizz…

Jungwoo shrugged with one of his shoulders. “I'm sure it would be special coming from you. I dunno. It's just something to think about.”

“So,” Juyeon drawled with his head lolling over the back of the couch to look over at Younghoon, “now that Jacob's situation is solved, what about you?”

Younghoon glanced up from his phone. “What about me?”

There were five of them holed up in Sangyeon's apartment presently, and four of them had invaded the eldest friend's abode to hoard his TV and play Super Smash Brothers. He was the only one with a working TV and decent WiFi to game on that wasn't Jacob and Kevin's apartment. Only, a couple hours in, Juyeon received a text message from Eric with a live update that JC!Yn was going to confess to Jacob.

Eric had ended his update with an ominous: Tell Kevin hyung he shouldn't go home tonight 🤣. That definitely livened up the place.

Kevin sat up from where he had been lying on the floor. “Oh, yo, you're so right. What's going on with you and Yn?”

Younghoon's eyes widened. “Nothing.”

“Don't give us that bullshit,” Hyunjae clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Didn't you say that you liked her?” He teased with a glint in his eyes as he wiggled his fingers Younghoon's way.

The man at the heart of the interrogation rolled his eyes and smacked Hyunjae's hand away. “I will not object to having said that I liked her, if that's what you're getting at.” Frankly, he would own up to having admitted that was how he felt about you. So what, he liked you? He wasn't embarrassed by it. The only problem was living with this knowledge and not telling you.

Sangyeon came over from the kitchen to lean against the back of the couch. He had a drink in hand, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Do you have a plan or are you gonna pull a Jacob and be a chicken?”

Kevin arched a high brow. “Only I can call Cobie a chicken, thank you very much.” He turned on Younghoon next with an accusing finger. “And you—I can't even go home right now, so let's get down to business.”

Younghoon blinked. “What business—”

“Order in the court!” Juyeon interjected. He grinned like a bunny. “Sorry, I know I have to wait until I'm a lawyer first, but it's just so fun to say.”

Sangyeon sputtered a laugh against the rim of his drink, blindly patting Juyeon on the head. “It's cool, man. Very appropriate timing.”

“We should play Marvin Gaye,” said Hyunjae. “It'll get us in the mood to tell Younghoon how to properly woo somebody.”

Younghoon swore his face was probably the shade of a ripe tomato. This was in no way how he thought his evening would go. And to be honest, he never ever expected having this conversation with his friends, ever. The last thing he wanted to do was to make his feelings all the more forward in his mind, and he was already having trouble whenever he was around you, and all you did was remind him of all the reasons why he wanted to be with you.

The thing was that he couldn't tell if you reciprocated his feelings. Sure, he could flirt and insert himself into your life all he wanted. But you could just be playing nice!

…actually, you probably were just playing nice. Dear god, he was back at square one.

He simply didn't want to lose your friendship, at the very least. Even if you didn't want to be with him in that way, he would pull up his big boy pants and be a friend to you instead. Then he wouldn't have to live without seeing you smile or listening to you work out problems aloud while he did mundane things in the background—

“And we lost him.”

Younghoon cleared his throat, raising a hand up to scratch his jawline. “You did not lose me,” he protested. The amount of attention on him right now was uncanny. Of course, he could go up onstage and be a character—but reality was different. He couldn't put on a mask or another personality; these people knew him… wasn't that scary? And yet, somehow freeing, at the same time.

Kevin inclined his chin to him with a little smirk. “You did have hearts in your eyes, my dude.”

“Aww, he's in love,” Sangyeon gushed while standing up to go refill his drink.

“I'm not in love!” He said with his index finger pointed at the sky. (He was in love. Of course, he knew he was in love. Because when all he did for the past three months of his life besides school was be around you and think about you and you you you… how could he not? Younghoon could fake any emotion in the world in front of an audience of people, but your eyes alone would devastate him.)

The entire apartment, sans Younghoon, chorused altogether now, “Yes, you are.”

Younghoon balked, rocketing upright. “There is no way all of you agreed on something for the first time and it was this.”

Hyunjae patted his friend's thigh from his position on the floor. “Believe it, Lover Boy. So what're you gonna do about it?”

“I wouldn't even know how to tell her,” Younghoon huffed, leaning back against the couch cushion with his arms crossed over his chest in thought.

That day when you'd told him about the wedding, he had been so hopeful that you were going to say something about feelings. He was so certain that he read you right, but you said nothing else afterward. He would totally go to that wedding with you, though; he just figured you might not want him to go, considering you'd dismissed it so quickly afterward.

Sangyeon came back to the couch and perched himself onto the arm of the sectional next to Juyeon. “It doesn't have to be fancy—you just need to be clear and straightforward.”

“Flowers could soften the blow,” suggested Juyeon.

Kevin chuckled. “For him or for Yn?”

Younghoon clicked his tongue at him with a playful scowl. “Quiet, you. But thanks, guys. I guess I just want to do this right. I don't wanna ruin what we already have.”

Juyeon pursed his lips and reached over to clasp his hand on his friend's shoulder. “You won't, man. I guarantee you that.”

“So if I get my heart broken, I can sue you for false advertisement?” Younghoon asked with his lips stretched in a grin, eyelashes fluttering innocently.

“Pssh,” Juyeon laughed, “try me.”

EPISODE ELEVEN: THE USUAL TIME & PLACE

IT was a frightening sequence of events when you texted Younghoon and he texted you at the same time. The Monday after Chanhee and Jungwoo had hyped you up to confess, you went around different items of furniture in your apartment with your phone in hand, pencil behind your ear, trying to work up the courage again to send the text.

And you did… eventually.

The usual time and place was decided upon, and it had snuck up on you as the day went on. You tied your shoes on and slipped out the door, making sure to pat your pocket down for where you had tucked your secret weapon for the night. As soon as you and Younghoon had confirmed a meeting for today, you ran to your (favorite) grad student, Seulgi, and asked very nicely for her set of keys into the planetarium, promising to treat her to brunch if she did.

The walk over to the convenience store was a jitter-filled one. Your stomach was doing cartwheels alongside the flips your heart performed in your chest. There was still activity on the streets, even at nine o’clock on a Dead week evening. You jumbled through the routine you had in mind over and over, a broken record of hopes and wants. The plan was to take a walk to the planetarium and use said walk to work up the courage to tell him. If anything went wrong, then you could cover it up with a cool presentation of stars overhead.

This isn’t lame, is it? You thought to yourself as you let yourself into the store. You were so in your head, you nearly didn’t notice that Younghoon was standing right in front of you, having just walked out of one of the aisles. You startled, breath hitching in your throat.

He smiled, the expression soft. “Hey,” he said to you and had to clear his throat, a hand brushing through his hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“All good; guess my head was just somewhere else,” you laughed nervously. You gripped the key in your pocket until you were sure your skin would smell like metal by the time you got to the planetarium. The two of you had met and hung out here a bundle of times before this, but this time in particular was different. The energy shifted in a way you couldn’t foretell if it was good or bad. For your sake, you hoped it was the former.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked and took a step toward you.

You inhaled, nodding. “I do,” you said. “I—actually, uhm, do you want to go to the planetarium with me?” From your pocket, you withdrew the keys Seulgi gave you and wiggled them around by the keyring. “I bribed one of my seniors for the keys.”

Younghoon brightened, a laugh falling out of his mouth, and now he was standing right next to you. “Oh my god, you evil genius… my beloved mastermind, are we about to break some rules?” He teasingly bumped your arm with his, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

“Only if you’ll break them with me,” you beamed and reached for the door to the front door.

“But of course,” he played along with a giddiness shining through his expression. “Anything with you. Though, I’d like to stop somewhere on the way first.”

Without even visiting your table in the back of the shop, you and Younghoon took off into the night together. You couldn’t imagine where Younghoon wanted to stop by on the way, but you thought it was probably to run an errand of sorts. But for the moment, it was at the back of your mind as you tried to keep this as normal as possible. “Different” was so intimidating—you wanted to sink into the comfort that was whatever you and Younghoon had.

It wasn’t difficult to slip into that normalcy, though. He always made it so easy.

“—and they did so well, Yn-ah. You need to come back and see them in person; they’re always asking me where you are,” he told you with an invigorated passion. He gave a feigned sniffle. “Pretty sure they like you more than me.”

You shook your head, laughing, “You’re so dramatic. They love you, Hoon. I mean, I can’t even believe that they would remember me after having met them only once!”

“Well,” he drawled, glancing away for a spell, “that might be my doing.” He confessed sheepishly, “I do talk about you a lot—but hey! You can’t blame me! I like talking about subjects that mean a lot to me.”

Your heart made a full stop in your chest, and you nearly physically halted in the middle of the walkway. The gears in your head could barely process what he had just said without going into a spiral. It was a reminder of what this night was originally about. You sputtered out a reply, “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“I try,” he jested.

“I do finish all my finals next week by Tuesday,” you told him. “I can totally come by that Wednesday and Friday for a little wing fitting. When’d you say the show was?”

He squinted one of his eyes in thought. “Err… it should be the Friday night after next, but if you do come through with those props, that should still give them enough time to get used to them before the performance.”

You nodded, mentally mapping out your schedule. Once your finals were through, you would have plenty of time to tinker with the props and have some proper fun after such a long quarter. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Yn,” he said, ducking his head as he nudged you with his elbow, “thank you in advance. I call you a workaholic, but here I am encouraging it.”

You chuckled. “It’s no trouble, Younghoon. Seriously. I like doing crafty things, and it’ll be a nice project. I promise.” To the end of that, you stressed further, “And if you think about it like you’re encouraging my hobbies and passions, then it feels a lot less like work.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.” His head perked up when his eyes caught onto something in the near distance. His fingers unconsciously caught onto your wrist. “Here it is.”

Wherever you expected to find yourself, it was not a flower shop. There was no shop name or title anywhere that you could see, just the sketched posters and advertisements in the windows of chrysanthemums and hydrangeas. Troughs of vivid blooms lined the front windows like testaments to the plants one might expect to find within. Hanging planters dangled from the overhang, vines and foliage spilling over in an elegant mess.

There was one other sign posted in the window of the door that read its opening hours from 8am to 11pm.

Younghoon's cheekbones seemed to flush in the light streaming out from the inside of the shop. “Shall we?” He asked shyly and grabbed the door handle to open it for you.

You stepped inside before him with the door closing behind the two of you softly. You weren't sure where to go first—the room was constructed with two long tables in the center to hold smaller planters, then the perimeter was covered nearly from floor to ceiling with the larger plants, as well as the hanging garden pots like the ones outside hung from the ceilings by the lights.

There was someone to the right side of the room with a large, green watering can in hand. She glanced up when she heard the two of you come in. “Hi! How can I help you two?” She asked, reaching up to take out one of the earbuds she had in.

Younghoon placed one of his hands on your shoulder. “Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“No, not at all. Help yourselves; if you need anything, don't hesitate to holler.”

He smiled, “Sounds good, thank you!”

Did he know what he was here for? You followed him toward the leftmost table, unsure of where to wander yourself since there was so much stimuli. He stopped at one of the pots and you stood beside him. Leaning closer, you whispered, “I don't really know what we're looking at.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, but then he pulled out a planter tag at the front of the pot he was examining. “But these might help.”

“You're probably right,” you mused, patting him on the arm.

“Look, these are carnations.” He scooted over to the next one over. There were an array of different colors of them, ranging from white to the deepest red. He placed a finger against his lips, then pointed at the white ones. “Those mean innocence, and those—” these were directed toward the blush pink ones, “—something along the lines of 'I'll never forget you.’”

You still stood close to him, and you reached over to gently warm the velvety petals between your fingertips. “I hope it's okay to touch them,” you suddenly said, swiftly retracing your fingers and peering over your shoulder at the worker.

“I'm sure it's okay,” he chuckled. He pointed out a buttery yellow set of petals a few pots down. “Aren't these gorgeous?” He breathed in awe.

When you arrived at the petal of choice, you raised the tag to see its name—daffodils. They were beautiful indeed, with pristine petals and tall stems, the color of them a rich yellow as if it had been painted rather than grown.

“What do these mean?” You asked.

“Unrivaled love? I think,” he answered with a slight tilt of his head.

You considered him for a moment with lips parted. “You're incredible, you know that? How do you know all this?”

His smile sweetened into something that made your chest feel warm. “You say that as if you're not the incredible one. But, Google. Don't look at my search history,” he muttered sheepishly.

It made you smile anyway.

You turned your head to scan the rows upon rows of diversity in one room. You were never quite the foliage fiend, but you could appreciate nature's beauty as much as nature's laws. Even if you might never be able to grow flowers of your own (because trust that you'd tried), as long as these places still existed, you could still admire and appreciate them.

Your eyes snagged onto a bundle of tulips at the front of the shop and you wandered over to take a look. Younghoon trailed after you to see what you wanted to look at, and stopped with you to admire the tulips. Their buds were near perfect, and they varied in so many colors—all soft purples, reds, yellows, pinks.

“Wow,” you said.

“Wow,” he agreed. He caressed the outside petals of one of the bulbs, then took the individual flower by the stem. He took yet another in his opposite hand and faced you. “What did the tulip say to the other tulip?”

You blinked. “Do indulge me.”

“We should put our tulips together and kiss,” he answered, and he pressed his own lips together in a barely contained smile.

You covered your mouth with one hand, a smile of your own blossoming under your palm. “I don't know about that one…”

“I don't be-leaf you when you say you're not a fan of that one.”

At this point, you could feel your face heat up and you could no longer hide your smile. “You're incorrigible.”

“It made you smile,” he quipped back with a smirk. He placed the tulips in his hands gently back into their pot, then swiveled on the balls of his feet. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” you agreed.

“Like you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, but he already had his back turned to you as he surveyed the shop for the person who was on shift. Yet, you still spied the bit of red creeping up the back of his neck, and found yourself content.

“Hi, excuse me!” He caught the worker's attention. “Could we get just a little bundle of these tulips, please? Thank you so much.”

Your eyes widened and you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Younghoon, what're you—”

He had a satisfied smile on his face. “Getting you flowers.”

“You don't need to get me flowers.”

“I’d like to,” he said simply, and that was the end of the conversation.

Less than ten minutes later, you and Younghoon were back out on the sidewalk with a new addition to the group. You cradled a small bouquet of tulips in the crook of your arm. The girl working there tonight had told you that being open so late caught a lot of last minute gift-givers as she wrapped your flowers in a tan colored butcher paper. She seemed to be an expert at tying ribbon bows that were just as beautiful as the flowers she tended, too.

You were already spinning far from your original intentions. You hadn't accounted for Younghoon making this gesture, and you wondered if he planned something for tonight.

Your counterpart suddenly cleared his throat while the two of you resumed your journey to the planetarium. You were only a few minutes away from the planetarium now. “I know I asked earlier if there was something you wanted to talk about,” he said, “but there is something I wanted to also talk about.”

Your heart fumbled over itself. “Uhm, yeah—yes, what's on your mind?”

From where you were on the street, you could see the broad dome of your target building just across the street. There was a rapid leap in your heart rate as he faced you beneath the street light shining over your heads like some kind of strangely timed, solo spotlight. The crosswalk turned green, but you stayed rooted to your place.

“I've been trying to figure out how to tell you this,” he began. He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed. You could only imagine how long he spent training himself to hold a poker face, but it was the liminal spaces where you could see right through him. “I like you a lot, Yn. It's—it’s an overwhelming amount, what I feel about you.”

You peered over at him wordlessly and hung onto every syllable coming from his mouth.

He wrung his hands out; this perhaps wasn't a script he was prepared for. But who ever came prepared for something like this? “And I think it's pretty obvious what I was hoping for tonight to be like from the flowers and all, and I was hoping that I was being just as obvious with how I felt about you, and… I don't know. I just… I had to tell you.” His lips pressed together so that the small divot in the side of his cheek appeared.

You didn't know how to describe the wave of emotion that washed over you. There was the rapid heart beat thundering in your ears, the tingle of relief in your shoulders, the happiness taking flight in your stomach.

“I have to be honest, I—I feel the exact same way you do.” You ducked your head, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I didn't know how to tell you either because I was really scared.” Your voice tripped, and you picked yourself back up. He waited for you, as always, patiently letting you say your piece. “I didn't want to lose you as a friend, at the very least, because you've come to mean so much to me over these past few months.”

Younghoon's smile widened and the amber color from the streetlight above haloed around his head for one dizzying second. “I didn't want to lose you either. I'm literally head over heels for you; you're every… you're everything.”

You didn't know how else to express your feelings through words, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, the flowers coming around his back to avoid being crushed. “Not good at words, sorry,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket.

You could feel the vibrations of his warm chuckle as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing against the side of your head. Message received.

Not everything went to plan, and it was important to exercise flexibility in such times. You still snuck (broke) into the planetarium with Younghoon, hand-in-hand, but all feelings were already known and laid sprawled on the table.

There was a center platform in the main showcase hall that was carpeted in a layer of fake grass that you and Younghoon gladly lounged upon to watch the universe. The image projected above your heads now of faraway solar systems and galaxies was unfortunately not real—they were produced by a specific software rather than the lens of a telescope. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.

You laid with your back against the fake grass next to Younghoon, your arms pressed against one another. The light projecting onto the dome above filtered down and painted you both in colors of stars and dark matter, all of those swirls of oranges and purples and blues and white.

“There is one thing that's still on my mind.”

He hummed. “What's that?”

“I was wondering—and you can totally say no—but the wedding…” You glanced over at him, and you wondered if he could understand what you were probing at. “I was wondering if you'd be comfortable going as my plus one. It's just the reception, but I understand if it's a lot.”

He smiled at you, big and bright, “I'd love to go as your plus one.”

Relief and joy fluttered in your chest now. It was a miracle your heart didn't grow wings and fly out then. “Thank you, really.”

His fingers inched over yours until they intertwined as a silent acknowledgement. He knew. He always knew somehow.

In the silence, you returned your gaze up to the night sky. It was crazy how vast the universe was and how small you were in relation to it. When put into perspective, your problems here on Earth were so much smaller than the world—and yet, they were still important.

“When I was a kid,” you started to say, and heard a small sound from your right as he looked back over at you, “I wanted to touch the stars.” You turned your head to look back at him.

His lip quirked upward fondly. “Something of yours will touch the stars one day.”

“I hope so,” you mused back. That was the dream.

His eyes dropped down to your mouth now, and everything quieted, as if you were in a vacuum with only the two of you. In this reality, no one and nothing else existed.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours. His body rolled half over yours, one hand cupping your jaw with a tenderness you were certain to become addicted to. It was your chest against his, your nose slotting beside his, your cheek beneath his thumb. His lips were a perfect marriage of pressure and softness at once.

When he pulled away, he didn't go far. “I think I just touched a star,” he murmured.

The breath in your throat hitched. “You're too good with words, Kim Younghoon.”

His eyes crinkled. “We can do something more your speed and study the space between us instead.”

You had to turn away to laugh, the sound of his own joining yours.

“Hey, it's a yes or no question,” he giggled, turning your chin back toward him. He bit his lip through a grin. “Can I kiss you again?”

You would be a fool to refuse him. In an instant, he lowered his lips over yours again, enveloped you in his embrace. And with every moment passed, you sank further and further into him. Maybe the universe was uncharted and alluring, but the universe could wait.

You had all the world right here.

a/n: tumblr fcking hates me and my dialogue, confirmed. anyways, pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! for now, i'll see u in hot commodity!

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @sunramzi @deobi0412 @kflixnet

[thedevilrisen]

Prompt Celly - Day Two

Luke Hughes x Y/N

Description: I will be here, by your side, plus you can't hide that fever from me.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say 'Hi' if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: None, I don't think! It should be all fluff and a bit of friendly banter.

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

My sniffles filled the desolate room, desolate minus the tissues, empty soup bowls and discarded clothes I had haphazardly changed out of this morning after a searing hot shower I had in a desperate attempt to clear my blocked sinuses.

It was safe to say being sick sucked, I believe everyone universally would agree. My phone had been buzzing consistently against the hard wood of my side table for twenty odd minutes and the grinding noise it was making made my headache worse than it already was. To stop the buzzing I had no choice but to pick it up, squinting against the harsh light of the screen looking at the name Lukey <3, 3 missed calls and 37 unread messages.

Shit.

Lukey <3

I swear if you don't answer me I'm coming over Y/N.

Please baby, I'm scared, what's wrong? What did I do?

Y/N, its been two hours, and I didn't get a good morning text.

Fuck this, I'm coming over.

DELIVERED 12:56

the clock on my bedside table read 1:13. It takes about 20 minutes to get here.

Double shit.

Shooting out of bed quickly, too quickly evidenced by the black dots and spinning room, I stumbled around, I picked up my tissues and put them into the trash can in my bathroom, I swept the used soup bowls under my bed and threw the miscellaneous clothes into the hamper.

"Y/N" Luke called thought the apartment.

Scrambling to open my bedside draw, shove my phone in and shut it, I leant over the bed like I was making it as the light from the hallway came flooding in.

"Luke? What are you doing here?" I feigned confusion, finishing pulling up the bed spread.

"I came to check on you, you weren't answering me and didn't send me a good morning text. I got worried." He spoke walking closer.

"I'm alright babe, was just having a cleaning morning, you know I put my phone away when I do that." I sat bad on the bed, he followed and pulled my hand out of its crumpled ball, leaning into me and enveloping me into a hug. He laid a gentle, lingering kiss on my forehead.

"I'm just going to get some water, want to watch a movie?" he asked.

"Sure, I'd love too!" I responded.

"Alright, get settled and pick a movie f'us yeah?" he mumbled into my hair.

"I will. Go get your water, then we'll start." I returned.

Luke's POV:

She's sick. I fucking new it. Not only did her behaviour give it away but her temperature is far too high to healthy. Wandering into the kitchen I opened the top cupboard, snagged a tin of chunky beef soup, leaned down to the draw filled with plates and bowls, pulling one out I opened the tin and watched as the brown viscous liquid sloshed into the bowl. Releasing the latch on the microwave I place the bowl in and let it heat up.

I sent Jack a text, saying I won't be back tonight. Pocketing my phone, I opened the fridge and got out two bottles of water, walked back to the microwave, opened it and pulled out the hot bowl, grabbing a spoon I walked back down the hallway and pushed open the door with my foot.

"Before you say shit," I announced, seemingly startling her. "I will be here, by your side. Because your sick."

"I-but" she rebutted.

"No buts, you were an idiot if you didn't think I would pick up on that fever. Now, I have soup, enjoy." I smiled as I handed her the bowl.

She slumped down on the pillows, mumbled a thanks and pulled the soup and spoon from my hand.

Walking around the other side of the bed, I settled in next to her and picked up the discarded remote to pick a show I know she couldn't resist watching.

Gilmore Girls.

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | First Kiss

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF's Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: angst!, mutual pining comes to a head, or more accurately to lips, aka kissing Word Count: 1.8k (ok it's a little more than a drabble) Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend's little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That's it. How did this happen?

A/N: Hi, I'm back. This is the first vignette that's not from an ask but just from my own head. I just really wanted to write their first kiss, so I did! I hope you enjoy. 🥰

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It's You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

A few weeks after Halloween, Hongjoong invites everyone to a friend’s deejaying gig on the other side of town. Your roommate opts out, saying she’d rather spend one of her rare nights off at her boyfriend’s, so you, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong check it out together.

After the gig ends, your ears still ringing, feet aching from all the dancing you did, the four of you make your way home. Wooyoung and Hongjoong both seem hyped from the show, talking excitedly as you wait for the train. You watch them with a fond smile, leaning against the wall and taking turns lifting your feet to take some of the pressure off. 

San joins you. “You okay, Noona?” 

“Yeah. Just wore the wrong boots tonight,” you say. “Didn’t realize we’d be dancing so much.” 

“Oh, yeah. I guess I could’ve warned you,” San grins. “Sorry. We’re not the type to sit through a set.” 

“Clearly,” you reply, smiling back. Honestly, you’d been pleasantly surprised at how well San and his friends dance. They were so free with their movements and their energy had been infectious. You couldn’t have stood still if you’d tried. 

Of course, now you’re paying for it, wincing as your throbbing feet scream at you. You shuffle again, and then, ever-so-gracefully, you lose your balance, tipping over, letting out a loud expletive that draws everyone’s attention. 

Hongjoong and Wooyoung cackle as San grabs your arm, pulling you back upright. 

“No worries, Noona, I’ve got you.” 

He murmurs the words reassuringly, arm sliding from yours to loop around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side, but only for a second, before he scolds the other two for laughing so much. You giggle along as Wooyoung and San pretend to fight, but your heart’s not in it, because it’s still yearning painfully for San to hold you again. Every time he touches you - hugs you goodbye, cuddles with you on the couch, even the briefest moments of contact like just now - it leaves this black hole inside your chest, an endless gnawing need for more and more and more. 

At some point, you won’t be able to withstand it anymore. You’re not sure what will happen then.

The train car is crowded when your group enters. Unfortunately for your tired feet, there's nowhere to sit, and blessed little space to stand, so everyone splits up, trying to find room for themselves. Except for San, who guides you towards the opposite doors with a gentle touch on your back, and then stands beside you, reaching overhead to hold on while your hands curl around a pole. 

Some creepy guy already too close on your right leans over, trying to get an eyeful of your chest, and San smoothly slides around, blocking you from the asshole’s view. You smile gratefully, and he gives you an intimidating look but undercuts his mean mugging with an eyebrow wiggle, and you giggle, which then makes him grin, a chain reaction of happiness that leaves you buzzing. 

The gentle sway of the car as it hurdles down the tracks shakes you. You bump into San with a horribly steady rhythm, feeling sheepish for not having a strong enough core to keep yourself upright and balanced for more than a second at a time. He just laughs, finally throwing an arm around your back to help.

His hold is light, leaving a big sliver of air between you, a respectful distance that frankly makes you wish he’d be disrespectful. But he maintains it, supporting you in the most polite way, and somehow it still makes your heart jump fast as the wheels spinning beneath your feet.  You turn your head, focusing on the window on the door, watching your reflection as the dark tunnels roll by. 

At the next stop, more people pack themselves into the car. The small bubble of space around you pops as the wave of humanity rolls you into San, and you bring your hands up, bracing yourself against his chest, eyes widening at the solid warmth beneath your fingertips. 

“Shit, sorry, sorry.” You apologize profusely, trying to step away, but the train jerks again, jostling you, and San tightens his grip, pulling you back into his arms. 

“It’s ok,” he mutters, in a quiet voice. “I told you. I’ve got you.” 

When your gazes meet, it’s like the air has been sucked from the car. Something shimmers in his dark eyes as they roam your face, and you utter his name unthinkingly, a tiny “San” just slipping from your open mouth, but it feels like a rogue confession of something you’ve been denying for so long. You’re not sure if he heard it but he definitely saw it because he’s been staring at your lips for a few seconds now.

You lean in at the same time he tilts his chin forward, and your mouths meet in the middle. A light kiss, feather soft, like testing the waters. The next one lingers, his lips firmer against yours. His hand splays on your back. You twist your fingers into the front of his t-shirt. 

A third press weakens your knees, as his mouth slots against yours. Lips move together, part, allowing him to breathe in your little gasp. 

The train emerges from the tunnel, and suddenly the lights in the car blast on as it comes to a slow stop at the next station. Immediately, you spring back, and so does San. 

His expression is searing, and you glance away, looking to see if any of your friends are nearby, but the only one you can glimpse is Hongjoong. He’s got his back to you, a few feet and a dozen people away. 

When the train starts up again, a few riders lighter, San loosens his grip, hand gliding up to a spot between your shoulders, far from the small where it had just been resting. By the time you reach your stop, his arm is more hovering than touching.

You and San find Hongjoong a few feet ahead of you when you depart. Wooyoung’s still on the train, since his place is closer to the next stop. Hongjoong slows his quick stride enough for you to catch up. 

“You guys up for some ramen?” he asks, like he always does on late nights like this. You and San look at each other, and you don’t know if it’s the dim streetlights or what, but you can’t read his expression.

“Nah, I’m good,” San answers.

“I think I’m just gonna go to bed,” you start to say at the same time, cutting off to let San finish and then repeating yourself with a nervous laugh.

“‘Kay.” Hongjoong bears the rejection with his usual nonchalance. “I’ll see you later.” He crosses the street, heading for the convenience store on the next block. 

And it’s just the two of you now, walking in silence. Two more blocks and you’ll be home. One more block. Just up the stairs now. Key in door, door closed, shoes off. 

You stare at each other. He blinks first.  

“Should we - “

“Did you want to - “

“Hey guys.” 

Your roommate comes padding out of the kitchen, cup of tea in hand. 

“Hey!” you nearly shout. “I thought you were staying over at Jongho's?” 

If she’s surprised by the volume of your voice, Haneul doesn’t show it. She shrugs. “Yunho was being annoying, so I left.” 

Yunho is Jongho’s roommate. He’s rarely at their apartment on the weekends. Just your luck that this would be the one night a year he strikes out and goes to his own bed instead of someone else’s.

Or maybe it’s for the best. Because it’s not too late to stop now before you do something else. Something potentially foolish. Let it just be a kiss. A one-time loss of rationality. Of caution. 

Even if you can’t stop thinking about that night at the bar. Sitting there with San’s arms wrapped around you just felt so right. 

Even if it’s been ages since you felt this way about someone. 

Even if you’re pretty sure you’re falling for San. 

“Are you going to bed or are you gonna stay up for a bit?” Haneul asks, taking a seat on the couch. 

“Um…” you fight the impulse to glance at San. “I don’t know. I’m not really tired or anything….” Truth be told, you’re a little wired now. “Why?” 

“I was thinking of starting that new drama Jongho told us about. Wanna join me?” She pats the space next to her.

San mumbles something about taking a shower. You watch him leave the room, and it feels like whatever happened on the train is already fading away. Did it really happen, or was it just a dream? Are your fantasies bleeding over into your waking hours now? 

San joins you and Haneul near the end of the first episode, taking a spot on the floor in front of the couch so he can stretch out. He looks so soft, with his dark hair freshly fluffed from a towel, dressed in his favorite hoodie and sweats, and it’s a struggle to keep your focus on the television and not wonder what would’ve happened had Haneul not been home.

Part of you wishes San would catch you looking. But you’re not sure you could handle it if you met his gaze right now and didn’t find what you were hoping to find. 

It’s actually a little odd how quiet he is, staring so intently at the show that you are completely ignoring. Is he doing the same thing you are, replaying the moment in his mind? Trying to freeze it in your memory?

Your stomach drops as you consider another possibility. What if he thinks the kiss was a mistake? 

By the time the third episode is over, you’re exhausted, from your night out but also from the mental gymnastics you’ve been performing, silently twisting yourself into knots thinking about San and the train and what could happen versus what should. So you excuse yourself for the safety of your bedroom, where you can dream in peace.

Nero’s already curled up on his favorite spot on your bed, right next to where you lay your head. He cracks an eye open as you flop down beside him, and you reach out to give him an apologetic scritch, when you catch a scrap of paper poking out from beneath him. A note, with San's handwriting. He must’ve slipped it on your pillow after his shower. The first sentence sends relief flooding through you.

I don’t regret it. 

But it’s what’s written next that has you rereading the note over and over. It’s a simple sentence, just a pleading command, but to you, it’s a revelation. 

Please tell me you want more too.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[mvrtaiswriting]

Hi!

I’m wondering if I could request a sanjixreader about the reader taking a hit that was meant for Sanji but he didn’t realize, yet the reader kept fighting? I’ll leave the ending up to you.

Thank you, and I hope it’s ok

Keep fighting x Black Leg Sanji ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

i'm really sorry for the amount of time this request took me?? it had been sitting in my drafts FOREVER and I kinda forgot about it I am so DEEPLY SORRY. this was so fun the to write and literally one of my favourite requests ever, so I hope this matches your expectation and that it would be worth the wait!! thank you for being patient with me. hope you enjoy this <;33 +1k words | gender neutral | mention of needles? | usual one piece violence. feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

A soft breeze blew out Sanji's burning cigarette, brushing through his blonde hair almost revealing his left eye. There was no way he could have survived the next attack - he was exhausted from the battle, his enemy being the strongest he had ever met before. Trying to take a puff from the cigarette he kept holding between his lips, Sanji wanted to taste nicotine one last time. As death approached him, all he wanted was the bittersweet company of his dearest friend; he wanted to feel his lungs being hugged by the warm smoke entering his airways, like a mother holds her child. That was it - he didn't have any strength left. Maybe that stupid marimo was right all along, maybe his captain deserved a stronger wing by his side.

Sanji stood still in the middle of the battlefield, waiting for his final act. He kept his eyes closed, his mind wondering what could have been if only he had a better father, if only he didn't let everyone down.

"Wake up, you useless cook!"

Was this death? Did Zoro follow him into the afterlife? No, no. It couldn't be.

"Sanji!"

Zoro screamed again, the metal sound of his swords almost serving as a background melody for the horrors of the battle. Passing an hand through his hair, Sanji noticed he wasn't bleeding - he wondered where was the headache coming from. Running his hands over his body, he noticed how he didn't feel any excruciating pain: no broken bones, no bleeding. Yet he passed out - maybe he just overestimated his enemy; maybe, he underestimated himself. Finally regaining conscience, Sanji looked around the battlefield - and a part of him wished he never did.

Your figure was moving swiftly on the battlefield, but your attacks were slower, weaker than usual. All you could do now was avoid any fatal blow, trying to recover from the one you just received. It didn't take long for Sanji to notice how you were covered in blood, your usual combat style being impeded by the metal piece stabbed in your leg, crossing your limb from one end to the other.

Biting his bottom lip, Sanji lit another cigarette. He was furious, rage galloping through his veins and giving him a rush of adrenaline he never felt before. He felt his muscles tighten, full of a strength he didnt believe he possessed - you protected his life with yours, using your own body as a shield. How could he be so weak? How dare he put you in so much danger? A sea of emotions flooded Sanji's thoughts; he was proud of you and your strength, yet he was scared, frustrated - mad at how he failed to protect you. His eyes were filled of admiration and worry - you endured a critical hit yet you kept fighting.

"Let me."

Sanji was quick to step in, putting his body between you and your enemy. Winking at you with the sexiest smirk painted on his lips, Sanji finally put an end to the battle you both had been fighting for too long. Before he could realise it, you were already lying on the floor unconscious, exhausted from the battle and all the wounds you endured.

The next thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a torchlight, pointed directed at your pupils. Too confused to follow the light as Chopper just ordered you, you tried to stand up. An heavy hand on your shoulder stopped you from moving, forcing you to lay on the mattress.

"Not so fast, mon coeur."

A familiar voice finally said, the French accent in his words revealing his identity straight away. You smiled weakly, realising the hand on your shoulder was Sanji's. Sighing, you stayed still whilst Chopper finished his job. You were full of bandages and stitches, an IV drip connected to your arm.

"Was it really that bad?"

You whined, when Chopper finally closed his medical kit bag. You saw the reindeer nod, dragging one of his little hoof onto his face.

"You're lucky to still have your leg!"

Chopper whined, frustrated with the way you were minimising your injury. Tears started forming in his tiny eyes, making you nod and fall silent - you knew he was genuinely worried and he was probably right about it.

When Chopper finally left the room, you felt Sanji slowly sitting down on the side of the bed, your mattress slowly sinking.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Sanji finally says. His tone is calm and full of worry, yet his words stung like salt on an open cut. His hand slowly reached your face, caressing your cheeks, his fingertips delicately tickling your skin. Biting your tongue, you hold back your explanations - he probably knows you were only trying to protect him, yet he was ready to scold you like a little child. You were fine, injured but alive. And you would do it again if you had to - protecting the love of your life from a potentially fatal blow? You would do it again in an heart beat.

"I love you."

These three words slip out of Sanji's mouth in a whisper, almost as if he didn't want to let them go. But now they were out in the open, filling the hospital room you were lying in.

"I love you and I want you to stay alive."

Sanji reiterated, clearing his throat. The words almost got stuck in his throat - flashback of the battles coming to him again in a blur. Seeing you collapsed on the floor, covered in blood with countless wounds all over your body. It was too much to take. He always thought nothing could scare him anymore, he always thought that there couldn't be a bigger pain than the one his father inflicted on him. But that was before this, it was before always losing the love of his life because he wasn't strong enough.

"I love you too, stupid cook. I love you and will stay alive to save your ass." You giggled, causing him to blush. Sanji stared at you for a second, the softest of smiles forming on his lips before he leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You were safe, you were his.

[sister-lucifer]

Hello all well? I just read the new version of the fic "I can ride you until I feel better" from the sub version of the Obey Me boys, so I wanted to ask if you could write a version with the datables characters..

“Can I Ride You Until I Feel Better?” (part 3) 

Read PART ONE and PART TWO 

Diavolo, Barbatos*, Simeon, Solomon x Male Reader (separately) 

Genre: NSFW

Content/Warnings: Dom/Top reader, mentions of riding, slightly OOC Simeon ig? depends on how you perceive him 

Not fully proof read, let me know if you see any errors!

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feed back is encouraged and appreciated:)

*Barbatos uses they/he pronouns 

Diavolo 

Diavolo’s day had consisted of nothing but work, work and more work

He was frustrated, tired, and his brain was fried from staring down at his papers from so long 

He dropped down onto the couch next to you, resting his chin in his hands and letting out a long groan 

“What’s up, Dia?” You asked, brushing away some stray hairs from his forehead 

“I don’t think i’ve had a day that draining in a thousand years…”

“Oh, honey, c’mere…” 

Diavolo laid down with his head in your lap, allowing you to stroke his head 

He stripped off his jacket as well, discarding it on the door thoughtlessly 

“Oh, my love,” Dia sighed, “I need a pick me up…” 

“Anything in mind?” You asked. It was quite obvious that he was already thinking of something

Diavolo turned over to look up at you, somehow keeping a completely straight face as he asked: 

“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 

You were a bit taken aback, but Dia’s calm demeanor didn’t falter 

He was serious, but not trying to be pushy 

Of course you had to agree, and a grin quickly formed on his face 

“Thank you, darling. Now sit back and sit still, I think we’re gonna be here a while…” 

Barbatos 

They may live to serve, but even Barbatos gets worn out from time to time 

He may have more patience than most, but it’s still finite 

They finally got a moment to themself at the end of a long day, and were happy to see you laying in their bed waiting for them 

“Oh, hello, love.” He greeted you. It was short but sweet, although you could still see the tiredness in his eyes 

“Hello, Barbs. You seem worn out. Wanna come lay down?” 

“Yes, actually. That would be nice. I’m not sure why, but today was particularly trying.” 

“I get it. Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you.” 

Soon they had snuggles into bed next to, holding you to their chest and resting his chin on your head 

You could feel the rise and fall of his chest begin to slow as he relaxed, but there was still an odd restless air about them 

“You alright, Barbatos?” 

“Yes, I think so…just, uh, not quite out of ‘work mode’ I suppose…” 

“Well hey, you’re always doing things for other people. Why don’t you let me do something for you instead?” 

Barbatos paused, looking down at you with an intrigued expression  

“Really?”

“Yep. Anything you want Barbs, I’ll do it.” 

“Anything…?” 

You nodded in reply 

Barbatos’ now borderline stoic face gave little to no insight on what they were thinking 

But when they did finally speak, it wasn’t anything you were expecting 

“If you really mean that, then…I think there is something I’d like.” 

Suddenly he was above you, your back now flat on the mattress as you gazed up at him 

“Would you be so kind as to let me—excuse my language—ride you until I feel better?” 

Even in moments like these they were still insistent on being proper 

It was endearing 

And of course you just had to say yes 

“I appreciate it, my dear. I’ll make sure you enjoy it as much as I do.” 

Simeon 

Ooooh booooy 

Y’know how the other characters said you never wanna see Simeon angry?

You don’t 

And he was pissed 

Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, or maybe it was some other mundane thing he couldn’t put his finger on 

But something had made today extra difficult 

All he wanted was to go home and get away from everybody but you 

And even though that time eventually came, it felt like it had been an eternity since this morning 

He didn’t even greet Lucifer when he passed 

He just wanted to get to you 

And when he did you were in for a wild ride (pun intended) 

He knew that an angel shouldn’t be thinking or desiring such things, but in his fiery state it seemed like the only thing that could help 

And it was rather easy to push the guilty thoughts away once he had his sights on you 

He was on you the second he was in the door climbing into your lap without so much as a word 

By the time you had said “hello” he was already fumbling with your pants 

“W-Woah, Simeon—! Slow down, w-what are you—“

“Just let me have this human. I need you ride you until I feel better.” 

You could practically feel the frustration radiating off of him, so you simply sat back and let him have his way. 

“Let me make one thing clear to you: I don’t want a word about this in the morning, do you understand? Good. Now behave.” 

Solomon 

Solomon was generally cheery, but today was just not his day 

He was struggling with his spells and couldn’t seem to get anything quite right

Each little mistake piled up into a mountain of frustration 

Until eventually he simply couldn’t take it anymore 

He somehow managed to make it to the end of the day, but was only hanging on by a thread 

He was so very happy to see you in his room, sitting in his bed and waiting for him 

“Oh, my love, I’m so happy to see you. You’re exactly what I need after such a terrible day.”

“Aw, well I’m glad I could help. Want to come lay down?” 

“Mm…not exactly.” 

You quirked a brow in confusion, watching as he sat down on the bed next to you 

“I’ve had a terrible frustrating time today, and I need something to…blow off steam with.” 

He pulled the covers off and straddled your waist, putting his hands on your chest and pushing you down onto your back 

“I think I’d like to ride to until I feel better. Is that alright?” 

You nodded wordlessly, watching as he stripped off his uniform jacket and then shirt 

“Good. You’re always willing to help me out, aren’t you?”

[fairuzfan]

hello!! firstly, you have an amazing blog. i have been able to learn a lot (and be introduced to a lot of resources) thanks to you as well as other palestinians!

out of curiousity, do you happen to have any favorite songs made my palestinian musicians? im not sure if you've already answered this, but i would like to learn some songs so i can sing them :)

hello, thanks for sending this and for your kind words. I've actually received a few questions on this.

Something in arab music culture in general (like Fairuz) is that sometimes there are writers different than singers who are sought out by singers and vice versa. This isn't always the case, of course, but something to consider is if you like a song by a specific singer, I'd suggest looking into who the composer/writer of the song is.

A well known example is Egyptian singer Abdel Halim Hafez who sung Nizar Qabbani's (widely considered the Syrian National Poet) poem, the song titled "Qariat El Fengan" or "The Cup Reading". This was a whole concert. My dad said whenever it snowed in his town, they would play the entire concert on the radio and everyone would sit around and listen to it, even if it was an hour long.

But you did ask about Palestinian singers! So I will provide some singers who are Palestinian as well as those who aren't Palestinian but their songs are written for/by Palestinians.

Sol Band in Gaza

They're currently located in Gaza and if you visit their facebook, you can see that they hold singalongs for the kids of Gaza amongst the rubble. Right now, they're holding a campaign to help rebuild their band which you can take a look and donate to here (click).

Reem Albanna is Palestinian (the singer) and the writer is Tawfik Ziad who was a Palestinian:

"Min Sijin Akkah" by Firqat Al-Ashiqeen

The backstory to this is really important — back during British colonization, there were three Palestinian revolutionary fighters who were hung by the British. Their names were Fouad Hijazi, Mohammad Jamjoum, and Attah Azeer. Apparently, they were discussing amongst themselves in their prison cells before they were hung about what they would say to their loved ones and if any of them saw their loved ones to tell them not to worry. The conversation was written on the walls of the prison cell and we don't know who wrote it... but people have been singing it ever since.

"Ya Falestiniyah" by Sheikh Imam

Sheikh Imam is not Palestinian but he is Egyptian. Palestinians really love him, though, and he has a lot of political music that many, many people love. I recommend checking out all of Sheikh Imam's songs tbh.

"Sheikh Assafeenah" sung by Palestinian singer Abdel Fattah Owainat and written by Palestinian Poet Miriam Alammoori:

I would check out both singer and songwriter for more of their songs.

Dammi Falestini by Mohammed Assaf

I don't think it requires an explanation LOL

"Taralelli" by Ens O Jam

It's a fun song, a love song. I usually sing this with my family on long car rides.

if anyone else has any recommendations, feel free to add on to this post by reblogging!

[kairiscorner]

hi there!! :)) I saw that ur requests were open again and I wanted to ask if you could do a hc or short fic(?) for like a Hobie x Spiderperson! reader where they've got this vibe that they're dating???

Like whenever anyone asks about it they have no clue and reject the idea since Hobie doesn't believe in labels and the reader doesn't want to be tied down. But! they both get suuuper jealous whenever either of them gets too close/flirts with other people and drags them away or smth huehruehdids

Maybe they confess??? What if one time the jealousy gets too much or one of them got really hurt and the other realizes that they might never be able to tell the other their feelings? Maybe a big kiss at the end bc of the exploding feelings? That's all, thank you and have a great day!!! :DD

HI ANONNNN <33 omg i love so much WHAT i hope i do this justice <:))

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

"so... are you two a, y'know, a thing?"

questions like these never fail to keep you quick on your toes, especially since nothing could be farther from the truth. you and hobie were just good friends, really good friends. just a couple of buds that always had each other's back when battles go awry, or when the other gets in trouble for a few stunts here and there. you two were just... very close, is what you would call it, neither of you really used labels to express what you two were to each other.

hobie hated labels anyway to begin with, never believed in them and certainly doesn't want to use them to describe his relationship with you. he never felt the need to, all he was certain of was that if you were there for him, he'd obviously be there for you–even if you never asked for him to be, it was always a given.

you yourself were a free-spirited type of person, you refused to be weighed down by commitment when you already had yourself to worry about. and besides... you didn't feel anything for hobie, did you? nah, you didn't, you just thought that he was really, really cool. and awesome. and inspiring. and rebellious for the right reasons. and so... just, just a lot of amazing things.

you two wanted to make it clear: there was nothing going on between you two. and even though you convinced some of the folks at the spider society, a lot of others were still highly skeptical of you two, not that you guys cared, you two knew each other well. or so you both thought.

though hobie was always your first pick for a partner on a mission, you were being paired up with a lot of different spider people recently. and though it was no problem for hobie, you worried about leaving him alone. "hey, now, don't get all sentimental on me. i never believed in consistency, anyway. you're amazing, of course everyone wants you on their team. i'll catch you on the flipside," he'd tell you something along those lines and just... be gone for the rest of the day.

you tried not to worry so much, but guilt ate away at you sometimes and distracted you. but soon, this routine became more and more commonplace for you two, to the point that it distracted you seldom times when you heard that hobie was okay, he wasn't avoiding you, he was just... off somewhere else, and that much was enough to put you at ease.

you hung around the new people you met more and more often, even when hobie was around. you never meant to replace him, you could never do that; you just had your own life, and hobie... hobie knew. he understood that not every day can be for you two to share together, but honestly, he wished he didn't have to share your attention with these other guys, despite how well they mean, he wanted just you and him together for one more day; one more day, just like how it all was before this new change in routine.

little did hobie know that wish would come true sooner than he thought; for as you two were sent on a mission together, with just you two together, hobie had to admit how much he missed you--how much he wanted for things to be the way they once were. "i know i said i never believed in consistency, labels, and... i don't. but when it comes to you, i just have these thoughts, these thoughts of seeing you smile because of me, feeling your hand in mine after a long fight, getting together to make mischief and getting each other out of it--i really missed that... i missed you."

and you thought you were crazy for hearing that right then and there, because you yourself felt that exact same way. "i... i really missed you, too, hobie." you'd admit, and that was all the admission hobie needed to hear. "if you'll let me, may i... show you just how much i've missed you?" he ask as he brings his hand to your cheek and gazes into your eyes as you become more and more embarrassed about your feelings for him, but so was he when he realized you were, and are, all he ever loved.

you agreed, and in the blink of an eye, his lips were on yours. you felt his piercings, they were cold amidst both of your lips touching each other, but you two fit so well together; you two were each other's missing link, the only one who can right each other's wrongs and make them feel much more... alive.

though you two still refused to give other people any labels when asked about you two--because how was it their business, right?--you two knew just the other meant to you: it was ride or die with you, and only you; nobody else could replace or be the other, you're all he'll ever want, and he's all you could ever hope to love.

a/n: I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD AAAAAAAA, I REALLY LOVED WRITING THIS THOUGH <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @ii01vq @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @fictarian @pixqlsin

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Your frustration mounts as you click the permissions again to allow the camera and microphone access. It’s so annoying! It just keeps running you in circles. Great. This is off to a good start. Late for the interview. That’s always the best first impression. 

When at last your firewall stops blocking the call, you flinch at the sight of yourself in the corner. You’re further jarred by the man staring back at you. Your mouth opens and for a moment, you’re frozen. You were so focused on troubleshooting, you forgot about what was waiting on the other end. 

“Oh, hi,” you squeak. “Sorry, I--” you look around, glancing through the clear walls of the library study room. It’s the first time you’ve been to this branch but you didn’t think the clutter of your apartment would make a good backdrop. “I was having issues with my camera.” 

“Quite alright,” he responds with a grin and a lilted accent. He sounds as professional as he looks. 

He wears a grey jacket over a muted teal shirt that lights up his eyes, even over the screen. His short hair is combed back neatly and there’s not a speck of stubble on his jaw. Under the structure of his attire you can tell he’s well-built. 

You resist the urge to look down at yourself. A white blouse. Boring but professional. It gets the job done. Hopefully. 

You force a smile. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he begins through your nervous silence. “I do appreciate your time and I would hate to waste it. So, we can hop right in.” He looks unflinchingly into the camera, “oh, let us not go so far past courtesy. I am James, we’ve been corresponding, yes?” 

“Uh, yeah, I remember. James.” You gulp. 

He says your name with a keen inclination. “This is rather not the position which requires those cliche questions so I won’t trouble you with asking what animal best reflects your personality.” 

You cough out a humouring chuckle and fold your hands on the desk. 

“Forgive if I should seem to the point. You see, it’s a very practical position. I think it’s best we go over what is expected before we go into the finer details; expenses, relocation, dates--” 

“Mm,” you squeak and put a finger up, “s-sorry, um, I thought we were interviewing but it sound like you’ve made a decision?” 

“Well, yes, I’ve reviewed your CV and your submitted profile and your answers to the questionnaire were acceptable. I didn’t think there was much else to consider,” he intones. You shift and try to hide your surprise. 

“No, of course, that makes sense,” you say. “Thanks, I guess I was confused.” 

“Not to worry. I find that written communication can often lack clarity so I thought it best we have a face-to-face in this circumstance,” he looks down as if he has a book or paper before him. “So, did you have any questions before I proceed?” 

“No, no, really, I'm sure you’ll answer them all.” Your cheeks bloom in a half-smile. You were so nervous about getting the job but you’ve already got it. 

“Right then,” he sits back and once more stares down the camera. “It is a very old property but the upkeep has been consistent. There should not be any glaring necessities for maintenance, this more of a custodial position. So, you would be the one to keep the place clean, make sure it is aired out, tend to the lawns but we do employ a grounds keeping service that comes fortnightly to trim.” 

You nod. It’s intriguing. You were sent photos of the property but you’re not quite sure of its purpose. Judging by the clustered pines in the background, you would guess it’s remote. A getaway that could be a goldmine for those wanting a vacation from the urban jungle. 

“You would have a roster, you see, of those you could contact for service so you will not require any specialisations. You are the day-to-day and would be expected to bring in the appropriate support for higher-touch difficulties.” 

“Right,” you try not to show your anxiety. 

“Albeit I should warn you that the reception in that location is not the greatest so if you cannot call out, you would need to keep trying. It will eventually catch but uh, not to mind, as long it is attended is what matters, not when,” he says.  

“Mhm, that makes sense. Um, can I ask what the property is? Is it like a summer home or...” 

“Ah, family inheritance,” he answers primly. “I’ve not much use for it past the sentimental value and I thought of leasing it for traveling parties but I’ve heard horror stories. Right now, I’m merely sitting on it until I figure out exactly what to do with it.” 

“Oh, right. Wow. Quite the inheritance.” 

“Hm, yes, my uncle did rather adore me. I was the only one named in his will but he was a bit of a curmudgeon.” He laughs. “Now, I must ask the most important question--” 

Before he can, the door swings open and you jump in your seat. Your heart sinks. You signed the room out for ninety minutes. You thought it would be more than enough. Surely it hasn’t been that long. 

Shoot. It’s him. How did he find you? You deliberately went out of your way so that he couldn’t. 

“Jake,” you stand and turn to him, trying to block the computer. “What are you doing?” 

“There you are,” he touches his chest as if he should be the one so afraid. “You didn’t come home--” 

You growl and cross your arms. 

“Jake, go away,” you grit out. “Not right now. Please.” 

“I had to make sure you’re okay,” he steps into the room and you push yourself back against the table. “Who else is going to look after you?” 

“I will scream, alright,” you warn. “Now leave me alone. I’m tired of telling you.” 

He sighs and his jaw squares. “I don’t get you. You act like I’m such a bad guy and I haven’t done anything to you. I never hurt you but you hurt me. You just spit in my face--” 

“Pardon,” the voice rises from the speaker at your back. “If I may, she is occupied and you are interrupting. I have a mind to contact emergency service should you persist.” Your mouth falls open and you turn to look at your laptop. James leans forward to glare at the lens, “Not sure who you are, fellow, but the lady has been clear.” 

“Who-- who is he?” Jake sputters. 

“Please, just go,” you plead. “Or I will call the police.” 

Little good they will do, you think, but that doesn’t need to be said aloud. 

He frowns and his eyes glint dangerously. You stare back at him, tense, fingers curling and uncurling nervously. That man on the screen won’t stop him and you don’t know if anyone would hear you from the desk. 

“Fine, guess I’ll see ya around,” he relents and backs out. 

You don’t move until he snaps the door shut. You hurry over and twist the lock on the inside. You don’t know why you didn’t do that before. 

“Are you alright?” James asks, drawing you back to the desk. 

You sit and look at the keyboard, “I’m very sorry. I...” 

“He doesn’t sound like a friend,” James says. You shake your head. “Well, then, it does sound like you’re in need of a fresh start. I do hope this can be that for you.” 

You look up and bat away the glimmer on the brims of your eyes. You’re not just afraid, you’re embarrassed. His kindness is as comforting as it is unexpected. 

“Thanks, um, anyway...” you exhale, “you were going to ask something.” 

“Yes, uh, yes, I was,” he reconfigures and puts another smile on. “When can you depart? I would of course arrange travel to be sure you get here safe and sound.” 

“Oh, when... whenever is best. Not to be too desperate but as soon as possible,” you say. 

“Wonderful,” he praises, “absolutely wonderful. Is tomorrow too soon? Pardon my own desperation.” 

“Tomorrow?” You utter and shake your head. “Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.”  

It's sudden and scary but it’s good. The sooner you go, the less time Jake has to figure out what you’re doing. The less chance he can follow. It’s an escape. Not a perfect one but it’s all you have. 

🩸

You spend all night packing. You parse down what you have to the essentials and put the rest in bags. You don’t care about the furniture. You say as much in your email to your landlord, telling him to use your deposit for the disposal. 

You whittle your life down to three bags. A large suit case, a knapsack, and a single purse. You have it ready to go by the door. 

You feel uneasy about it. You stare at your luggage, the lights off, windows closed. Your phone buzzes and you put it to silent, ignoring the messages from your personal pest. You’ll be done with him too. You wonder if you should just toss your cell. 

You don’t sleep. You can’t. You still can’t believe you’re getting out. You hope you haven’t given the game away. 

There’s a tap on the window. You nearly roll onto the floor. You look over and hear it again, a harder impact. Are you serious? He’s throwing stones. He could break the damn glass. 

You shake your head. You won’t fall for it. Not again. You remember when he came to your door and cried until you opened up. He even smeared ketchup on his face to make you think he was hurt. It’s hard to tell the difference through a peephole. 

Almost there. Almost out. You just need to make it a few more hours. 

As you ignore the incessant tapping and the light of your phone glowing ever few minutes, your thoughts turn bitter. You should message everyone who turned their back on you and tell them exactly what they’ve put you through. Somehow, you think they’d care as much as they did before. 

Sleep eludes you but a foggy daze comes over you as the windows soften with the early morning. There’s no more pebbles bouncing off the pane. Just you and the buzz of the sleeping city. 

Your alarm chimes and you get up as your head pulses. You’re used to the constant fatigue. It will ease up and you’ll just feel a bit heavy. When it’s normal, you don’t notice as much. 

You get ready and have an instant coffee by the door. James messages just before nine. Your car will be there in ten. Oh, early. You don’t mind about that. 

You won’t go out and wait. You’ll stay here, where it’s safe. 

When your phone goes off again, you expect it to be Jake. It’s James. Whew. You’re so close, you can’t believe it. 

You grab your knapsack and purse, and drag your suitcase out behind you. You lock the door and throw the key through the mail slot. You hurry down the hall and take the stairs over the elevator.  

You don’t look back or anyway but forward. You look at your cell. 'Black Jaguar’ followed by a plate number. Jaguar? Holy moly. 

The tinted window rolls down and reveals the same face from the Zoom call. You didn’t know he was coming himself. You assumed he was sending a cab or something. You slow as you come out the door. He smiles and pops open the door. 

Before you can come forward, another figure appears, blocking your way. 

“Hey, I've been calling all night,” Jake says. You stop short and nearly yelp. Of course! 

“Jake, move.” 

“Where are you going?” He looks at your bags desperately. “Wait, you can’t--” 

“Pardon me, sir, is there some issue?” James strides up behind him. 

Jake turns to face him and stiffens, “and who are you—wait, you’re that guy from the computer.” 

“I’m none of your business, as is her life,” James insists. “Now, seems you’re used to picking on those smaller than you but let’s see how you do against me?” 

James steps closer. He’s a few inches taller than Jake. You can’t move as they stare each other down. You wait, expecting chaos. 

“I was only talking,” Jake shows his palms and shrugs. “It’s whatever. She’s a bitch anyways.” 

He turns and snarls over his shoulder at you. You back up. As Jake turns, he’s knocked off kilter as James hurls his fist into his jaw. The shorter man staggers and falls to one knee, catching himself in the grass. 

“Well, that was a lovely chat,” James smirks and beckons to you, “shall we?” 

[angelofthepage]

Thoughts on the "Updated" Bendy Employee Handbook

Before we go any further, let's make it very clear what kind of post this is: we're not here to hate on the book, and none of anything I'm about to say is said with ill intent. I am here for analysis, constructive criticism, and discussion. This post is a little more critical than what I would usually share, so viewer discretion is advised.

Today we're talking about the newly updated Bendy Employee Handbook, which just recently released as of this month at the time of this post. And I have a lot of questions about this entry, and really, game guides as a whole in our modern gaming world. This book appeared to advertise itself as a rerelease of the original handbook with additional content for Bendy and the Dark Revival, but upon comparing the two, I've noticed there's actually a number of changes they've made, some good, some bad, and some that I'm not sure what to make of. So come and join me under the cut, and if you have some thoughts of your own, feel free to comment or reblog and add to the discussion. Without further ado, here we go!

Part 1: The Baffling Amount of Cut Content

Our story begins where most stories do, the table of contents. So right off the bat, when comparing this book to the original, you'll notice something off.

No, your eyes do not deceive you, an entire section of the original book was cut, on top of making other sections shorter. And the weirdest part? Some of these things were exclusive to that original book, they didn't appear anywhere else in the Bendy franchise. So already we're off to a weird start. Some of these missing pages aren't so bad though. In some cases, they're just format changes to make the book flow a little better/take up less room. Sometimes they succeed in that, sometimes they end up feeling more cramped, it's pretty subjective whether or not this improved the book. But it certainly does cut down on pages. Case in point, the beginning of each chapter of BATIM.

Don't worry, Joey's letter hasn't been cut, but it has been moved to earlier in the book, so it's no longer in Chapter 1. This was a very odd change. Other things that are missing are character monologues, but it's inconsistent. Alice Angel's speech about the screaming well of voices and Joey's monologue right before the final boss were kept, but Sammy's "sheep sheep sheep" speech and Bertrum's audiolog right before his boss fight were inexplicably cut.

Here are a few cuts I found pretty significant.

These pages are all missing from the update. In the case of this newspaper article, what does that mean in regards to whether or not this is "canon" or "retconned"? Joey Drew, did you or did you not have plans to expand into a Bendy themed toothpaste? The people need to know! X''D But seriously, while some of this is inconsequential, some of it matters. The mascot costume in particular, that's the only sketch we get (that I'm assuming came from Bertrum or Joey regarding that part of the parks, no one is specifically credited for making it). It doesn't show up anywhere else in the series (to my knowledge). It's strange that it's just, gone now. The Bendyland spread is such an unfortunate loss, that's some of the closest we've ever gotten to seeing the map of the park. Yes you can see it in BATIM, but being able to get up close and personal with it without having to control Henry was really nice. It makes me wonder if they're trying to erase the past details so they can do more with Bendyland in the future, something that's different from the original vision. I don't think that's it, but it could be, though they'd also have to go back on The Illusion of Living too, given it’s discussed there with some really fun details.

Speaking of which, that's the weirdest piece of cut content: the missing section that ends the old book (that was reiterated in The Illusion of Living). It's Joey Drew's tips for making a cartoon. It's formatted differently and has no images in TIOL, but the basic information is still the same. What's not the same though, is the loss of the tutorial pages for drawing the toons. These are another thing that don’t show up anywhere else in the series, making them a much more permanent loss. And even though this section is cut, it’s still referenced on the back cover of the new book, which is a bit odd.

These were really cute and showed so much personality for not just the toons, but for Joey as he described them. Cutting this was genuinely disappointing for me. Same with the paperwork in Joey's apartment. Those were some of the highest quality images we had of what was on his desk and bulletin board, and I liked being able to see them clearer. The biggest loss of the cut content isn’t just the pages themselves, but the personality they gave to this book, and the Bendy world as a whole. 

This was the very first Bendy book to be released, and therefore our first look into this world in this format. And while I don’t think it’s the greatest thing in the world in terms of being a game guide, I didn’t pick up the original for a game guide. I picked it up because I wanted to see if it provided more context for the world. And when it does that, it does a good job. The memos from characters we know, Joey’s financial records, the images from the desks of people like Joey and Bertrum, they give us insight into how things were going at the studio. Some of my favorite details from the original are Joey’s memo about how Susie was replaced by Allison, and the receipt for Joe’s Fine Dining. The fact that that memo was distributed to everyone but Susie enhanced what we already knew from BATIM, and it paints him as a much crueler character than we knew him to be. Not to mention the repeated use of “I have to say, I’m an instant fan”. Having Joey say those words makes the concept of him creating the cycle so much more interesting. Like did he script out every little action these characters take? Or is this something Susie picked up and recycled from him after potentially finding this memo in real life? Oh there are so many delicious possibilities. And the lunch date, oh my gosh. One, it started my quest to build the Joey Drew menu using all the things he eats in the books, because damn does he have good taste. And two, it was so cool to have a look into an interaction Susie told us about in that one tape. Like that was REALLY GOOD. Give me more like that! When you have other parts of the series back up things we’ve heard only one character say, it gives more credence to the idea that they actually happened that way, or gives us a clue that we need to check for character biases when they tell us their side of the story. And in a series where MOST characters are unreliable narrators, that is REALLY IMPORTANT for establishing timelines and figuring out what’s real versus what’s fabricated. That was my biggest hope for the update, for more flavortext and world building that expands on things we already know. 

But um…the dark revival part of the book doesn’t do that. 

Part 2: The Dark Revival’s Minimal Offerings

After an abrupt jump from Bendyland to BATDR, we get into the new stuff. The Bendy and the Dark Revival section of this book is alarmingly short and has very little substance. There is no new expansion of the worldbuilding or insight into these characters. I mean, the book describes Heidi as being a female lost one? So if you wanted a confirmation on her gender, there you go I guess? I guess that detail was never like, stated explicitly, but this is me stretching to find something new that it gives us. Actually, wait, it does give us one new thing, but I’m gonna be honest, it kind of rubbed me the wrong way.

The book refers to Allison having a “pet wolf” when we get her introduction in Chapter 1. It then later describes that Tom “likes being pet” when we get his introduction in Chapter 5. Which by the way, is the only image of Tom in this entire book, since his original render from the old version was cut. Now, I’ll be honest, I used to like that second detail, I thought it was cute that he doesn’t just tolerate Audrey, he actually LIKES being pet. Those are two different things, having some insights into Tom’s feelings and characterization would have been a breath of fresh air. But no, when I reread the book and saw that first detail, that made that really weird and uncomfortable actually. It would be one thing if in-universe, Tom called himself a pet, or Allison called him that with consent. Heck, if there was another character in-universe who wanted to purposely insult Allison and Tom by saying that, that would be fine too, then it’d be reiterating the narrative. But on its own? I take issue with taking Tom of all characters and calling him her pet. The Safehouse Boris never got treated that badly, hell, Buddy in the books never got dehumanized this badly when he became a Boris. But Tom, Tom gets to be the one that’s dehumanized? There is something that really rubs me the wrong way about that. Especially if he turns out to be Thomas Connor or has some connection to him. I can’t assume if he is or isn’t anymore given all the stuff BATDR pulled with Allison and Henry. But on the chance he IS Thomas Connor, do you have any idea how bad that looks, to have a character that, because of details written in Dreams Come to Life, many fans speculate to be a person of color, referring to him as Allison’s “pet”? And even if he ends up not being a person of color (I say as I groan about the inevitable discourse for the DCTL graphic novel that’s coming out), it’s still kind of awful to say that about anyone. Tom is a character that has repeatedly gotten the short end of the stick in this series. He’s relevant to BATDR for all of a couple of minutes, and he’s incredibly underutilized and lacking details or depth for most of the series. Thomas Connor, he gets a bit of depth as of The Lost Ones, that novel does great things for him. But Tom Wolf? Short end of the stick. And I’m sad to see that continue here. 

The one positive thing I have to say about this section is that it’s really nice to have so many of the audiolog character transcripts here. Most of the notes and logs from BATDR are here with all their words typed out. The ones that in-game had a chiller styled font are transcribed a bit strangely, as now they’re written like the messages written on the walls in-game. But it’s not the worst. If anything, all of this gives me a great resource as a theorist. Having a record of all of these and what chapters they appear in makes my goal of constructing a timeline and cross checking information much easier. 

Though from a graphic design standpoint, these pages frustrate me a little bit. They’re so cramped, and there’s several spots where the text isn’t centered properly within its text block. I get the sense on some parts, it’s because it’s placed so close to the spine of the book, so they don’t want any information getting cut off, but it still looks funky. And there are several spots where that explanation doesn’t really apply. There’s also some weird placement of fun facts. While I love that this book lets us in on some secrets, they’re not always placed in an area that makes sense? Like, there’s a note about how to get the Inkjets Concert, but the steps for how to get it are placed way after a point in the narrative where you’d be able to get it, and I’m kind of scratching my head as to why it was done that way. Is it to encourage a second playthrough? Or is it to not spoil the story? Why not split the information up? Or have a dedicated secrets page like they do with the achievements and theMeatly’s cutouts? 

Though speaking of not spoiling things, this book is really odd about what it chooses to focus on. So, Henry’s model is in this book, right next to a passage about a “mysterious man” you can meet in the Cyclebreakers area. They showed his model but didn’t name him as Henry? I don’t quite get that choice. Also, despite the cyclebreakers being very important to this story, they aren’t really mentioned before this very brief section. However, Porter? The character shown for all of a few seconds? He’s got at least three images throughout this book. The balance feels off with what this book chooses to put emphasis on. 

Also, this one really annoyed me: Allison. So for everyone who’s actually played BATIM, you would know that Allison Angel is never referred to as Allison within BATIM. We only know she’s called that because people dove into the game’s files and revealed her and Tom’s names upon the release of Chapter 4. And the book follows suit with this, it does not call her Allison in the original handbook whatsoever. HOWEVER, the BATDR section messes this up. When it introduces her, even though in-game she introduces herself as Alice, the book introduces her as Allison. But when we get to Chapter 5, the part where she’s actually named Allison by Audrey, it suddenly switches to calling her Nice Alice? It’s a weird choice and I don’t understand why this happened. 

It leaves me wondering just how much the new author of this section and their editors know about the Bendy series before going into this project. What context were they given to write this thing? It makes the book feel unpolished to have so many mistakes in its formatting and information. I don’t know what the quality control team for this release looked like, but a part of me wonders how many editors this went through before making it to the final release. I don’t work in publishing to know what that looks like, but I’d genuinely love to learn more on this subject, it’s fascinating. 

There’s also a very strong dissonance in the imagery. While I’m glad to see the renders from BATDR’s advertising so clearly and up close, the difference in their coloring looks strange when put next to the rest of Bendy’s usual color palette. It leaves me wondering what assets the book team was given for use in this release. There’s a lot I could say here about the importance of press kits and brand guidelines, especially in this day and age when so many fans are making just as high quality of content as the official releases of media. And that leads me to the most disappointing part of this book. 

Part 3: Stolen Content

If you’re active in the Bendy fandom and know its many creative members, then you may already know what I’m about to dive into. MLSpence3D is an artist that enjoys 3D modeling, rigging, animating, and rendering. He can often be found engaging in all sorts of corners in the indie mascot horror community, such as playing a notable role in the production of SuperHorrorBro’s upcoming title, Glitched Out, as well as providing the renders used on the Bendy Wiki of the in-game characters. Spence has had his work mistaken for official renders before, and unfortunately, it’s not just fans making that mistake. The render of the Piper used in the BATIM portion of the original handbook is Spence’s, and it unfortunately hasn’t been removed in this update, nor has he been credited or asked for permission to have it used here. I’ll admit, his stuff looks so official that I’ve mistaken it as such too, and it speaks to a much needed conversation on assets, metadata, and protection for artists of all mediums. 

Our fandom is not the only place where this happens. Back when FNAF: Help Wanted was in production, the cover art mistakenly used fan renders as a part of its photomanipulation. Developer Scott Cawthon was quick to apologize and make things right, removing the renders and replacing them with officially made FNAF models. Heck, we had something similar happen right here with Bendy back when the voice cast of BATDR started working with Streamily. The initial post that advertised their Streamily debut used renders from Spence and a few other artists that had to be tracked down, and they didn’t have the rights to use them, nor were they credited. It makes a lot of sense that this happens, when you don’t have sufficient resources and aren’t an active member of the fandom, if you’re a graphic designer trying to make a piece to advertise something, you’re going to need assets to make that. And if you’re not given sufficient assets by the people you’re designing for, you turn to other sources to get the job done. They may not know what on Google is official vs fan content. The fans are so skilled and passionate about what they do, and with the number of series that have fans steadily joining the official teams, it’s incredible what can result from being passionate. But it also makes for a much needed reminder to add metadata to your files so that they can be traced back as belonging to you. Watermark your stuff, clearly mark your work as fan content in the tags, captions, and descriptions, in an effort to protect yourself. Don’t use images you find online unless you have a very clear idea of where they came from, so you can direct people back to the source when they ask about it (or better yet, link the source in your description from the start). Give people another reason to pause and double check their work in the chain of command (they should be pausing to double check anyway, but let's be real, we don't live in a perfect world). In a world where credit and sources are more important than ever, remembering to give credit where it’s due from the start will save you all kinds of headaches in the future. Video game developers, especially those of you in the indie scene: please develop press kits to give to people your teams collaborate with. By giving them assets they can reliably use to advertise for you, you will save everyone a lot of hassle in the long run. And if this is still happening even with a press kit, it merits having some conversations to evaluate why and solve the problem. If there is no other takeaway anyone gets from this post, this is the big one I want to see some positive change on in the future.

Part 4: The Functionality as a Game Guide

This book works for your first time through BATDR, but not for any kind of sequential playthroughs. The way it directs you through the game uses the audiologs and notes as waypoints. Once you pick them up, they are removed from the environment, and so if you’re picking up the game after a long time away from it, you’re not gonna remember where those were, so it’s likely not going to be useful for navigating. It reminds me a lot of the way my parents talked about one of our old hometowns. We lived in Vermont for a little while, and there were two things about our area that we laughed about. One, never leave your car unlocked unless you want it filled with zucchini. Two, if you ask for directions, you’re not gonna have a clue unless you’re a local, because they word everything in a similar fashion to “you’re gonna drive past where the old barn used to be”. At least give me a landmark that still exists, or a map! The BATIM chapters aren’t much better, they sort of give you a layout map, but it’s not helpful. Especially in Chapter 3, the place where you arguably need a map the most, there is no kind of instruction for how to get through Alice’s fetch quests if you get lost. 

In my mind, a game guide is something you turn to when you need help getting through a game. Now, mind you, I am not the target audience for a game guide. I don’t own game guides. There are a few in my household that my siblings own, for stuff like Super Mario Sunshine, and I guess technically my Pokedex for Pokemon Black and White 2 DOES double as a game guide. But like, we now live in the age of the internet. If you want to know how to get through something, there are a million articles and Let’s Plays that detail how to complete the base story, find secrets, and even suggest strategies for tackling difficult challenges. Some of these are designed to be informative, and some are more reactionary and built for entertainment, there’s lots of flavors to choose from! 

And it makes me wonder, what does that mean for the medium of game guides as a whole? I think they still have their place. For one thing, different people benefit from different learning styles. Being able to read a guide may work better for someone than a video depending on their brain wiring. And for people who don’t have reliable or frankly any internet, or rely on a library for that, it’s nice to have a book so that you don’t have to wait to keep playing. I’ve never seen anyone get a game guide from a library, but I absolutely think it’s something a library could have. It’s also just really convenient to have all of that information available in one book, as opposed to having to search through multiple forums and sources and risk getting spoiled. And when they’re done well, sometimes they can have secrets not even the existing player base knew. Like I knew that there was this secret about a ghost train that appears if you set your system’s clock to 4:14, but I didn’t know if AM or PM mattered. Thanks to this book, now I know that it doesn’t matter, both work, which is really handy to know! But uh…most of the secrets that were revealed in this book were things I knew within the first month that BATDR came out. None of them were new to me as someone who’s plugged into the world of Bendy. There have been multiple videos detailing how to get these secrets, and how to play this game, by many different indie horror enthusiasts. It almost makes it feel like this book came out a bit too late, and it’s only released about a year or so after this game came out.

Which really begs the question, who was the target audience for this book? Was it for new fans who were struggling with these games? Was it for longtime fans who wanted a memento of the occasion and a record of all the stuff in these games? Was it for lore hunters hungry for new secrets and world building? Having read both versions of the employee handbook, I still can’t definitively say who the target audience is. That kind of frustrates me, that’s the first thing they taught us about back when I went to school for graphic design. It’s important to keep your audience in mind when designing something, that way it caters to their needs, appeals to them, and gets your message across effectively. 

Part 5: Final Thoughts

I still can’t say for sure what I was supposed to get out of this.The parts of it that I found charming and appealing were not continued or built upon in this update. There is no new world building or lore. It doesn’t do an effective job as a game guide given its reliance on non-permanent elements of gameplay. It doesn’t give us tools to cross reference what we know from previous entries, nor does it expand upon details that lacked clarity within BATDR or BATIM. It removed some of its more charming content, and it still has stolen artwork from its previous iteration. By the time I got done reading this book, I was left feeling disappointed and kind of exhausted. No joke, I grabbed a friend, and we went through it all to compare it page by page to see what changed. It was something you could make a drinking game out of, not that I would recommend that. 

I would struggle to recommend this book to any Bendy fan, unless you’re a completionist like me who wants to own every book as a physical copy. The original employee handbook was a far better read, and if you can find a copy secondhand or at your local library, you’re in for a small but tasty treat (quite literally if you decide to make the bacon soup recipe, which fun fact, originated in this book and was developed by the wife of Bookpast, one of the writers on this series!). The Dark Revival section feels tacked on and not as well thought out as the original book was. There is a very odd disconnect between the two. I’m genuinely confused as to why it was put in a rerelease of this book rather than making an entirely new book for Dark Revival. Dark Revival is a much longer and detailed game than Bendy and the Ink Machine. I would expect a book that describes how to play it and its world building to take up a lot more pages and go in depth on different details than this one did. So why was it done this way? Does this have to do with some sort of contract with Scholastic that we don’t know about? Was there a time constraint, or a page count that had to be met that they couldn’t meet with just BATDR? Did the people working on Bendy have too much on their plates to dedicate the time to a new book? What happened here? I wasn’t expecting to leave this book with more questions than answers, but here we are. 

Overall, I don’t think it was worth what I paid for it, but it’s going to live on my shelf with the rest of my books. This will be handy for when I need to reference the audiologs and don’t want to look up a YouTube video to remember what was said. It’ll also be nice if I’m traveling. See, whenever I visit my grandparents, their wifi is pretty limited, so if I want to draw anything while I’m up there, I have to print out references or download images on my phone before I go so I can do that. Having some of the new renders in this book will be useful if I decide I want to draw Bendy stuff or theorize while on the road. 

Now it's your turn. Tell me your thoughts on the Updated Edition of the Bendy Employee Handbook! Is this something you want to read? If you have read it, did you enjoy it? Were you left wanting more? If we ever get another book like this, what sort of things would you like to see? Let's talk about it. And remember, if you did enjoy it, that's not a bad thing, absolutely no judgement there. Just because it wasn't for me doesn't mean it's not going to be enjoyable for someone else. Every work of fiction has its audience. <3 Here's wishing you a wonderful rest of the day, and happy reading!

[mikrokcsmos]

Sweater Weather

pairing; jungkook x f!reader

genre; fluff

rating; PG-13

warnings; cursing, bad weather, bad friends, and just a kind koo

w/c; 1,684

a/n; just a cute lil something for my bias (if you haven’t guessed it already). like + reblog if you enjoyed. feedback is always appreciated and helps motivate this writer. feel free to send in your own requests. this is a repost from my old account.

this is part one, read part two here.

You should’ve learned by now to never trust what the weather man tells you.

“Today is going to be at a high of 88, nothing but sunny weather today, folks! Wear sunscreen!”

Yeah, bullshit.

You inwardly cursed at yourself for being so naive. Especially now that you were walking alone, at night, in the rain, wearing nothing but a cute white dress you found the other day, thinking that today would be a perfect day to debut it for the first time.

With pursed lips, and hair matted to your face, you tightened your arms around your chest as you tried your best to cover up the see through material. Looks like you were SOL when it came to people viewing your underwear, but there’s not much you can do about it now. You only hoped there wasn’t some pervert you would run across tonight. Scowl on your face, the only thing you were thankful for was wearing your chunky, white boots that are able to withstand the rain and various deep puddles you had to walk through to get to your end destination — the bus stop.

*******

Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, Jungkook’s eyes narrowed into slits as he stared at the rain that was pouring down around him as he stood underneath the bus stop shelter.

He realized the hard way to never trust a drunk friend to secure you a ride home.

So there he was, at almost 11 o’clock at night, shivering his ass off. His breath came out in puffs of smoke, before disappearing into nothing. His glasses kept fogging up from the humidity of the day despite there being rain. And he waited, for the one friend he could trust to pick him up so late at night, his roommate.

Out of his peripheral, he could see something white appear from the harsh cover of the rain. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t only semi panicking, imagining that he was seeing the ghost of a ‘white lady’. He swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing due to the action, shrinking in on himself in hopes of not being seen by the white specter.

Just as he did so, did the figure suddenly pick up it’s pace towards the bus shelter and him.

Oh shit.

*******

Squinting through the rain, as the rain drops lashed at your skin in piercing waves, you finally saw the end in sight. Not noticing the figure in all black, you practically sprinted the rest of the way to the bus shelter and only hoped you hadn’t missed the last bus ride home. That would’ve been the perfect end to your already perfect day, you thought sarcastically.

Upon making it underneath the awning, you finally closed your eyes and let out a sigh of relief. As much as you loved your boots, they were not meant to be worn for such long distances, and your feet were killing you. Unable to stop shivering, you bit on your bottom lip to prevent the chattering of your teeth that you wanted so badly to do.

Jungkook let out his own quiet sigh of relief into the confines of his hoodie when he realized that the white figure was actually just another victim of the unsuspecting weather. And definitely not a ghost, as far as he knew. His nose scrunched at the aforementioned thought, lip ring rising with his lips, and brows raising into his hairline, as a shiver of his own went down his spine. Nothing like how your poor body was shivering, however, which made Jungkook glance at you out of worry.

Further inspecting your shaking figure, he noticed your white dress was soaked through, as his ears turned red and cheeks became tinted a light pink. He’s a guy, and you’re attractive, what do you expect?

Suddenly feeling guilty about being warm in his hoodie, he came up with a solution.

He would give you his.

He just hoped that you didn’t find it creepy.

*******

You tried your best not to stare at the lone, all black, figure next to you, who you envied for being smart enough to wear or bring an article of clothing to help rid of the rain and still stay warm.

Not one for small talk, or speaking to strangers in general, you didn’t offer anything other than silence. Better to be cautious, than taken advantage of, you like to say.

It was a light tap on your shoulder that shook you out of your depressive reverie, making you turn your head at break neck speed towards the silhouette next to you, fists raised even though you knew for a fact you had no idea how to fight. His hands rose in defense, as he stuttered out his reasoning for breaking your personal bubble in a haste.

Your eyes softened when you saw he was holding out his hoodie towards you with an extended hand that you could see was adorned with various tattoos, no longer wearing the warm hoodie himself.

“Sorry,” he smiled at you sheepishly, cheeks tinted a light shade of red. “I should’ve said something, instead of just tapping you. My bad. But uh, here–,” not wanting to invade your personal space even more, he just opted to slightly, and awkwardly, bend his body towards you as a way of extending his arm out further, the hoodie now dangling in front of your chest. “You need this more than I do.”

“Are you–,” your voice cracked, from not being used in awhile, which made your own cheeks become tinted and mirror his. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Do you mind if I–,” still in his awkwardly, bent position, he opened the hoodie up enough for you to easily slink your head and arms inside. A situation you happily took advantage of.

You couldn’t help the way you sighed loudly in content, your body now encased and drowning in the kind strangers large and long hoodie. The end of the sweater reaching far pass your knees, making it look as if you’re wearing nothing but the hoodie. Immediately, you inhaled the musky, yet comforting aroma with closed eyes and smiled for the first time since it started to rain.

Opening your eyes, you turned your body to the big hearted, or just morally correct, male in front of you. Underneath the hoodie they wore just a plain, white, long sleeved shirt. A tiny logo rested above the heart that you couldn’t quite make out, but you had no doubt in the tight, black, skinny jeans he wore, that he was now just as cold as you were, if not worse.

And now it was you who felt bad.

Seeing the conflict in your eyes, Jungkook lifted his phone up in front of your face to show you a notification he just received. It was his roommate letting him know that he was five minutes out and would see him soon.

“My friend is going to be here any second, so I won’t need it. Don’t worry about me, okay?” His warm smile melted you, and made your whole body heat up with his gentle tone. It was funny that he was trying to console you, and not the other way around.

It was nice to feel cared for, even if it was by someone you didn’t even know.

Sure enough, right on schedule, headlights blared through the rain to stop in front of the bus stop. It was the mystery male’s ride home. You don’t know why, but your heart sank into your stomach upon the fact that soon you’d be left alone underneath this bus stop, and would no longer be in the company of the stranger.

Looks like the male shared the same sentiment, as a small smile appeared on his face. Sucking his lip between his teeth, he went to offer you a ride home, yet stopped himself when the tall tale sign of a bus honking caught his attention.

Your eyes widened at the sudden sound as well, and you two stared at each other with bated breath. His friend rolled down the passenger window from the drivers side and leaned over to yell at the male in front of you, voice laced with impatience.

“Yo! Jungkook! Hurry, man! It’s raining cats and dogs, plus the bus is going to need to park here. Let’s go.”

Jungkook made the split second decision to step closer to your no longer shaking form, which for that, he’s grateful to have helped. Pulling a pen out from his back pocket, one he kept on him along with a small notebook incase inspiration struck him for lyrics to a new song, he gently held your wrist to pull the sleeve of his hoodie up enough to write on your arm.

Giving you the ‘call me’ sign with his hand, a sideways spin off of the surfer’s sign, accompanied by a cheeky wink, he hunched over with one arm over his head to attempt to shield the rain that still kept pouring down without remorse, yanking the car door open to clamber inside and sit in the passenger seat, swiftly slamming said door once he was fully in. The action making his driver friend scold him, but he didn’t pay any mind.

Waving at you with a bunny toothed grin, as he adjusted his glasses back onto his nose, the car sped off as the window slowly began rolling back up, and you watched until you could no longer see the reflection of the taillights that bounced off the street lights in a rhythmic pattern.

As the bus came to a full stop in front of you, the doors swinging open with an airy ‘swoosh’, you looked down at your still uncovered forearm with a coy smile and read the hastily scrawled note he wrote, and miraculously fit.

Jeon Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Call me so I can get my hoodie back and a date with you

Pls and thank you ;)

PS - Unless ur a ghost, then u can keep it

[melit0n]

EUCLID ANALYSIS.

Told you guys it was coming, didn't I? I apologise that this has taken a bit longer than expected, my mental health hit me like a bullet train, but I do hope it's sufficient.

Part one -> You're already here!

Part two -> Line by line analysis part 1

Part three -> Line by line analysis part 2

Part four -> Musical/intrumental notes

Part five -> The Night in Sleep Token

Part six -> Conclusion

Please note this is a general analysis. Although I do go into theories, both my own and others, this is just general thoughts. Also note when I speak of Vessel, I mean Vessel as a character, not the person, unless I specifically state so.

Tagline: @rilllvri @a-s-levynn @fivewholeminutes @euclidsvessel @tonguetyd @moonchild-in-blue @kkarmatic @branches-in-a-flood

+ Some people were worried about spam liking/reblogging the last time I did one of these big analysis posts, and I want to say please don't worry about that! I get happy when I see the same users pop up liking and reblogging my work, because it means you're interested in this enough to go through the whole thing. Feel completely free to add your own thoughts, correct any errors I've made etc. As per usual, my DMs are completely open to anybody wanting to discuss ST <3

Let's start off with the basics. ‘Euclid’ is the anglicised version of the Greek name Eukleídes (Εὐκλείδης), mainly known via the ancient Greek mathematician Euclid of Alexandria, who is seen as the ‘father of geometry’, and most famous for his work on symmetry. Its general definition is something or someone who is renowned and or glorious (A) and the lesser known definition is something that is a copy of the same (B) (taken from Euclid’s ideas on symmetry), which we’ll come back to in a bit.

However, there is another Euclid in history that we’ll be referencing; Euclid of Megara. This Euclid, similar to our mathematician, was an ancient Greek Socratic (having been a pupil of Socrates) philosopher. I’ll be taking part of a text out of his Wikipedia article since his ideas have been explained thoroughly there.

(we'll be coming back to him soon)

First off, this is an incredibly interesting choice of name for a song. Outside of someone's maths and philosophy class, this name doesn't exist to most, so the fact it's been chosen at all is intriguing.

Vessel has shown time and time again he enjoys sometimes elaborate references in his art, an example being chemistry and biology in TPWBYT (most notable would probably be ‘Telomeres’), so, I think it would be easy to say that, whether it be a reference to Euclid the Mathematician or Euclid the philosopher, that said reference is understood and intended by Vessel.

So, let's start with our mathematician, shall we?

What I find interesting about Euclid of Alexandria is that his life and existence outside of his work on geometry is almost completely unknown. There's almost nothing known of him, as a person, other than where he spent half of his career (Alexandria; Egypt, hence his title), where he may have studied (Platonic academy) and a general idea of when he lived (around 300BC). What is known about this insanely famous man who created the foundations of symmetry is incredibly barebones. People take Euclid at face value for his work, just like Vessel (both as an artist, and a character).

Further, we, as listeners, don't have much of an understanding of who Vessel is other than being a mouthpiece of a deity known as Sleep, someone once human now grasping at the threads of humanity and someone sharing some of his struggles in life (both with Sleep and unknown people). Like Euclid, he is barebones, we take him at face value; a vessel. He is both a mouthpiece for Sleep, a mouthpiece for his own emotions (obviously) and a mouthpiece for us. His experiences transcend being just his, due to his anonymity, therefore allowing us to connect and express our own experiences. It's music for the sake of music; expression.

Now, having talked through Euclid as a person, it's time to talk about Euclid and his symmetry. Symmetry in shapes is 'reflections, rotations, translations, and combinations of these basic operations. Under an isometric transformation, a geometric object is said to be symmetric if, after transformation, the object is indistinguishable from the object before the transformation- a copy of the same’. So, of course, this means shapes like squares, rectangles, parallelograms and circles. Circles are a representation of infinity, wholeness, unity and loops. What does Euclid do? Loop itself (starts and ends with B major, which also happens to be the same chord that TNDNBTG starts with), and loops the three albums together, musically and lyrically.

Now, onto Euclid of Megara.

Euclid was born in Megara, Athens and was a follower of Socrates (sneaking into Athens to hear him speak, and he was also present during his death). He is most known for his philosophy that good is the knowledge of simply being and that the opposite of good does not exist, aka evil. The Good is described to be a perfect, eternal, and changeless Form, existing outside space and time. A form of Heaven without a God.

This idea could be linked lore-wise with Sleep Token; Sleep could, in a way, be The Good literally. Bliss. Further, with the idea that there is no actual opposite of good, then how can anything be bad? How can Sleep, as a deity, have bad intentions if there is no actual evil?

So far, with these two notable figures in mind, we can perceive Euclid as one of two ways (and there are more ways to come). Euclid can be seen as quite literally being a form of symmetry; a parallel that Vessel lays his life on because it brings all of the produced albums, all of his stories, together. Or, we can think of Euclid as Vessel. This brings me to @euclidsvessel's post on their theory on Euclid; what if Euclid was Vessel’s name before he became a vessel?

The theory that Euclid could be Vessel’s old name is not only extremely insightful, but very plausible as well. They explained their points very well in their original post, and I don't want to repeat what they’ve already said, so I do implore you to go read that! It's not detrimental to needing to understand this post, but I highly recommend it. Despite this, I am here to both support their argument and bring my own comparison. Take a look at the cover art for Euclid:

Let me repeat the lesser-known definition of Euclid; a copy of the same. A clone. A replacement. Held in the right hand is the decapitated head of Vessel's old (2nd gen.) mask. Specifically, the one that covers his mouth; the version that relinquishes the most amount of humanity. The album art is a representation of change portrayed in a symbolically gory way. Beheading, depending on the era you’re working from, symbolises both vengeance as well as a form of purification. By cutting off the head, you remove any ‘unholy’ thoughts. It's also among one of the most horrific and humiliating ways of killing someone (since it was typically done publicly, and sometimes the heads were placed on spikes of battlements as a warning).

Furthermore, there's a theory that's popped up a couple of times, lore-wise, that Vessel is not the first person to be turned into a vessel of Sleep, and he certainly won't be the last. So, considering the literal album art illustrates a replacement of Vessel, I’d say that theory is pretty much confirmed. In conclusion, the album art can either be interpreted as how Vessel will eventually be discarded and replaced by another vessel, or how Vessel himself will change, for better or for worse; clawing out of his own skin to become “someone new”.

So, to compare the idea of Euclid being Vessel’s old name, and to create the third perception of what or rather, who, Euclid is, what if Euclid will be the eventual replacement for Vessel?

[scribeofwinchesters]

Secrets and Lies: Chapter 12 - Absolution

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 5,280

Summary: “I can’t change what I did and truly all I want is your forgiveness. Not absolution–or–or salvation… Just… forgiveness.”

Series Rating: Explicit/18+ TW: Rape/Non-con

Previous chapters:  One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Sevenandahalf Eight Nine Ten Eleven

A/N: I hope you all like this chapter and if my story makes you feel something, reblogs, comments, asks, etc are always welcome <3 Alsooo don't worry. This is not the end. I felt like this seemed like an ending so I wanted to be clear. I feel like I've been giving y'all blue balls so don't worry, we're gonna get our smut on real soon, folks! ;) Most likely the next part will also wrap everything up and will be the last part but I'm already working on a new sam x reader fic that takes place at the beginning of s.10 but is a continuation of the same relationship that is present in all my fics.

Tag list: @lauraashley93 @stoneyggirl2 @tiggytaylor @park-simphwa @dottirose

When you first woke sometime later, you continued to drift in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours. You were faintly aware of Sam’s presence on the other side of you–your feet tangled with his legs as he curved around you. But the meds Dean gave you were strong and continued to pull you back down into unconsciousness. 

In the hazy moments of awareness, you could hear Sam and Dean talking quietly to each other. Their voices lulled you back into a comforted sleep. Another moment, despite your back to him, you could feel Sam sitting back against the headboard, reading. Each rustle of the pages turning was a quiet thrill that made you smile unconsciously in your sleep, even more so when he began using his free hand to casually caress figure eights onto your back.

Sometime after that, you found Sam alongside you, over the blankets but still snuggled against you, his flanneled arm draped over you. He’d laced fingers with yours and held your hand over your heart. You felt him nuzzle his nose into your hair and inhale deeply before gently pressing his lips to the crown of your head. This, combined with the sun shining in from the window by the door and your desperate thirst, was enough to finally push you fully into consciousness. 

The ice bag rested heavily on top of your cheek and was as cold as ever. Dean must have made a fresh one. 

You whined softly as you stretched your legs and let out a yawn. Instinctively, you moved your arms and Sam withdrew his, allowing you to stretch them out in front of you, noticing with each shift the aches in parts of you that you didn’t even know could ache. Your lungs felt bruised, somehow, from the strain the shifter had put on them in its attempt to suffocate you. The large bruises on the back of your arms, your waist, and your thighs where it had coiled itself tightly around you pulsed out painful reminders.

You turned over, taking the ice bag with you, and nestled it between your cheek and the pillow. Each movement brought on more frustration, stirring you further from your sleep as you wrestled with your appendages in a vain attempt to settle into a position that didn’t hurt.. Grasping the top sheet in your fingers, you pulled your hands together and rested them beneath your chin.

You blinked slowly as your eyes adjusted to the light.

Sam was right there, watching you. His face lit up as your eyes settled on his. His shaggy, brown hair was tucked behind his ears and he was dressed in jeans and an old grey and blue flannel. You took stock of the bandages on his neck and cheek and chin and wondered how many more there were that you couldn’t see.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you croaked. A beat passed before you painfully cleared your throat and asked, “When was the last time you laid in bed this late?” 

Sam smirked as he thought about it for a moment. “Laid in bed with you, like this? At three in the afternoon? Hmm…,” his eyes narrowed on you as he thought. “Probably a few months… Was it New Year's Day? … Certainly not often enough.”

Your heart raced and you took as deep a breath as you could manage. Sam wouldn’t be talking to you like this if he hadn’t decided to stay, right?

“New resolution: stay in bed more,” you rasped with a careful smile before a tiny cough caught in your throat and you pulled the sheet over your mouth as you let it out.

“I can get on board with that,” Sam said grinning broadly as he climbed off the bed and made his way around. He grabbed the full cup from the nightstand as you carefully pulled yourself back to rest against the headboard. A groan or a hiss escaped your lips with each painful movement. Sam leaned over you, careful not to spill the water, and adjusted the pillow behind your back before moving the ice bag to the nightstand. He crouched down and handed you the cup which you drank down in seconds, stopping once to cover a painful cough. 

Sam’s brow furrowed as he tried to force his concerned frown into a smile. He grabbed Dean’s steel water container and refilled your cup as you held it out for him. Once he was sure you weren’t going to chug the second cup as well, he joined you back on the bed. This time he sat with his legs crossed under him and faced you. 

You glanced around the room. “Dean?”

“Supply run,” Sam said. You nodded before taking a sip of water. He watched you for several long moments before looking away, as if steeling his nerves. He took a deep breath and when he turned back you saw that his eyes were glistening again, like last night, and you were back in that old place, the place where your heart ached and begged to stop all of his pain and guilt and regret and longed to remind him how worthy and caring and honorable he was and how all the bullshit he’d endured wasn’t on him...

You took another sip and closed that door in your mind. You weren’t sure Sam still wanted you to take care of him in that way and until you were, that wasn’t a weight you could take on… not right now.

“Y/n… I’m so-” 

“I’m okay, Sam,” you said, cutting him off. The corners of your lips twitched up into your best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Dean stopped it. I’m still here. You’re still here. Everything’s okay.” 

Okay, so maybe that door didn’t close so easily…

“Please, y/n, just let me say this,” he said before inhaling sharply. “I— I never should have left.” 

You shook your head at him. “Please don’t do that.”

“What?”

“We both know by now that shit just happens and all any of us can do is be there to help pick up the pieces, maybe stop it if we’re lucky. We’re not always going to be lucky,” you shrugged. “So don’t act like you should have done something–like you could have done something… because clearly, life doesn’t work that way.” 

Sam swallowed hard and looked away from you. “I never should have taken that damn case. I should have given it to Dean. I should have come straight home,” he muttered. 

“Sam,” you said before biting anxiously at your bottom lip. The thing that had been gnawing at the edge of your thoughts was finally ready to bubble out. “Look, I know this has thrown a wrench in your, uh, plans. I still mean what I said the other night–if you’re not ready to come back, don’t do it just because of–because of all this. I’ll be okay for a bit. Awhile even. If you have any doubts… about–about us–I need you to deal with them before you–if you decide to…” You stumbled over your words and took a sharp breath, ready to push past the one word you couldn’t get your mouth to utter. “if you can– if you can forgive me.” 

Sam dragged his hand down his face as the tears started to slip down his cheeks. He pinched his bottom lip anxiously like he did when research was beginning to fail him. Normally, when you caught him doing that, you’d walk up behind him and pull his hands into yours as you leaned over and pecked little kisses down the side of his face until you found his lips, and–still grasping his hand in yours–tilted his face up and pressed your lips to his, taking a long, silent moment before opening your mouth to him and slipping your tongue gently and momentarily between his lips. Your breath turned shallow from the memories and you quickly wiped away a tear as you wondered how you’d ever be able to keep yourself from him. 

Sam stared up at the ceiling a moment before looking back and studying you for a long moment. His brows knit together and suddenly he leaned toward you and pulled you into his arms as he lifted you with an almost disconcerting ease. You fought through the ache in your muscles as you shifted your legs and nestled yourself around his hips before resting your chin on his shoulder and encircling him in your arms. He slowly caressed his fingers up and down your back.

“Sam…,” you said softly against his ear, your chin pushing into his shoulder as you spoke. 

“You know… when I was out in the woods, setting up my tent, hiking the trails, just trying to clear my mind–that plan completely backfired. All I could think about was you. I watched the creeks flowing, saw little pools of minnows and frogs and swimming ducks and I thought of you and how much you’d love it. I saw an owl up high in a tree and I wished I could show you. I watched the sunset and I wished you were there holding my hand, telling me what the colors reminded you of. I stared up at the stars and I swear I saw your face. The moon was a beautiful, clear, perfect crescent–just like you always love to point out to me when you see it. You were everywhere. It was so much that I almost prayed to Cass, sure that he was doing this to me on purpose. But I knew better. It wasn’t Cass or any other magic. It was just… you. My love for you.” 

Your heart caught in your throat and tears streamed down your cheeks as he spoke. You pulled your chin down to the fabric above his clavicle and pressed a kiss into him as you shifted your grip on your forearm, squeezing him tighter as your tears dripped onto Sam’s back. 

“I couldn’t sleep. I debated calling you–debated if I should just pack up and drive back home to you. Then I got news from a hunter about a case close to home and decided I could wrap it up quick and be home in a couple of days and that way you’d still get your space–in case you needed it now–after–after the way I’d treated you that night.” 

“Sam,” you said, whispering his name again. That wasn’t your favorite memory but you didn’t want it to be something he berated himself for forever.

“I know, just let me finish. I need to say this.” 

You loosened your embrace on him and trailed your fingers up his neck, unintentionally eliciting a soft gasp from him at your touch. Your fingers found your target as you brushed them–opened and closed–around his crown, gliding slowly through his hair. His chest, pressed to you, fell and rose shallower now. 

“Oh my god… you're making this… more difficult than I imagined,” he said, his voice strained.  

“Sorry,” you said, the small smile evident in your tone. “It’s just… this last week has been incredibly–excessively–unbearably shitty and I needed you so bad–not needed you, needed you–just–you know–needed you. Dean did his best–the best friend I could ever ask for–but when you hold me–I feel… healed… salvageable… I’m not-”

“Shh…,” Sam soothed you as he gripped your shoulders and pulled you away from him so that he could look into your eyes. “I’m here and I got you and I’m not going anywhere. Now, listen to me. Of course I forgive you, okay? I forgive you a million times over. Tell me you’d make the same choice again and again and I’ll say, ‘Yes, do it’. Tell me you need to wipe my mind again right now and I’ll say, ‘Please’ without giving it another thought. If you made a call then it was the right one. Full stop. I know you, and you know me,” he said, squeezing your shoulders before letting go and cupping either side of your face in his wide palms, ensuring you couldn’t look away from him as he spoke but careful to avoid the laceration on your cheek.

“It took me a little bit to sort through the memories of that night after Cass gave them back to me. At first all I could see was you–bloody, screaming in agony as I lifted you–I woke up hearing that scream in my nightmares, y/n… but then, there it was, a thought that prickled at the back of my mind as I held you so still that my arms were cramping–you didn’t deserve this life and Dean and I were monsters for pulling you into it–for keeping you in it. This is why we don’t do attachments in this life. It’s not safe. And loving me was going to be the death of you.” 

You shook your head and he let go of you, dropping his hands to find yours, weaving each finger with his.

“You were right, y/n,” he said. “Don’t you see? You were right.” 

“No, Sam,” you said, still shaking your head. “Don’t do that. I was wrong, okay? My choices were wrong. I can’t change what I did and truly all I want is your forgiveness. Not absolution–or–or salvation… Just… forgiveness.

Sam closed his eyes and was silent for several long seconds as your words washed over him. Finally, he whispered, “I love you,” and leaned forward to press his lips chastely against yours before he pulled back just enough for his heavy breath to warm your skin. “Is this okay?” he asked. 

You paused, surprised at yourself for not immediately responding, ‘yes’. And realized you were not sure what to make of it, of him. And his beautiful words were too much. It was all overwhelming.

“Y/n?”

“I’m so sorry,” you said as you dropped your head into your hands and squeezed your eyes shut. Fresh tears dripped into your palms as you quietly sobbed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me–I know you’re Sam. You are Sam. You are my Sam. And I adore you, too. You know that, right?” you asked. “I can’t find all the words right now to convey it the way you did. I’m so–it’s just been a–a shitty fucking week,” you said as you lifted your red, blotchy face up to look at him and took in several slow, deep breaths. 

Sam’s eyes widened with concern and you saw his chest rise and fall rapidly with panicked breaths. “I do–I do know that,” he said as fresh tears misted his eyes. You could see he wanted to comfort you, to hold you, but he wasn’t sure anymore if that was right, so he pulled himself away. 

Your tears came harder then and you gripped the comforter into a ball. You were furious, you wanted to scream out in anguish. You wanted to stop. fucking. crying. But you couldn’t. It all just spilled out and all you wanted was for Sam to wrap you in a hug and hold you and kiss your forehead and stroke your back, but there was another part of you that wanted him to stay away from you–to leave you the fuck alone. 

You felt like you were being torn in two and it was an emotional agony that paled in comparison to what you felt the night you and Sam fought or even the misery of the days after. You stood and fumbled around your boots and clothing, looking for your phone. Sam’s voice sounded like it was being carried over a pool of water that sat above you as he called your name. You ignored him. You found your phone on the nightstand, no doubt plugged in and charged thanks to the ever thoughtful Sam, and made your way to the bathroom where you shut the door behind you, too scared to look back at him. It broke your heart to imagine his expression upon hearing the soft click of the lock but you did it all the same.

You turned the cold knob on the sink and tried to focus on the sound of the rushing water as you cupped your hands under the stream and watched the water rush across your skin in airy streams. It was cool and calming and you splashed several handfuls over your face before patting it dry with the hand towel, careful of your cut. 

You unlocked your phone and called Dean. 

“Y/n?” Dean asked as he answered the phone before the first ring had even finished.

“Dean?” 

“You good?”

“I, uh–yeah, I’m good,” you lied. 

Dean could hear the congestion in your voice and knew you’d been crying. 

In an instant his tone turned gravelly and flat. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just, um, I know it’s Sam but–I don’t know why but I suddenly wasn’t so sure–but that doesn’t make sense because I do know–I do know that’s Sam,” you choked back your tears and swallowed hard. “He–I just…,” you trailed off. There was a silence between you for a moment.

“Y/n, the shifter’s dead, okay? I killed it. And I just got the other one into the trunk so we can burn it, too. I’ll be there in ten but in the meantime, I’m sure Sam won’t mind if you have to test him again to be sure, okay, kiddo?” 

You nodded to yourself. “Okay,” you whispered before sniffing and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. 

“Deep breaths,” Dean reminded you. 

You took a deep breath and winced at the sharp pain in your lungs as you inhaled.

“Sorry,” you said as a guilty tear spilled down your cheek.

“Don’t be. I’ll stay on the phone with you ‘til I’m back,” he said.

You took another deep breath and counted to five before letting it out and counted to five again as you exhaled, ignoring the pain. 

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay, Dean,” you said as you hung up the phone before he could counter you.

You glanced in the mirror for the first time since you weren’t even sure when. Your hair was a crazy, tangled mess and your face was stamped with a bright splotch of red across your cheek, an almost perfect handprint. The two butterfly closures held the broken skin together. There was a big, dark bruise forming beneath your eye, above the cut. The shifter really had hit you as hard as it could, which was saying something for a monster. You quickly brushed through your hair with your fingers and pulled it into a manageable but loose bun. You turned to face the door and shut your eyes as you gently shook your whole self, before slowly opening the door. Sam sat at the edge of the bed, waiting quietly as he fidgeted with his fingers.

“You scared me,” he murmured as he looked up at you.

“Sorry,” you said as you hesitated in the doorway. “I know you’re not…,” you trailed off and took a slow step toward him.  “Your whole being–your whole presence is the opposite of it so I know you’re not–but for a second a part of me was there again and–well, without Dean here–I’m sorry. Not that you–” you said, fumbling over your words before Sam cut you off.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Sam said. “I know exactly what it’s like to have no idea what’s real and what’s in your head.”

Of course Sam would know; he’d told you vague stories of the torture he’d endured in the cage before you’d met him. The other pieces Dean filled in, about his visions of Lucifer taunting him, and the scar on his palm that reminded him he was safe. When Sam was having a really bad day you’d sometimes gently trace a finger across that scar to remind him of that fact. And on even worse days, when you had a moment alone, you’d peck small kisses to it.

He held his hand out and waited for you to take it as you approached him. When you did, he pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around your hips as he nestled his face into your waist. You twisted your fingers in his hair as he sighed a ragged breath into you. You stood there just like that, silent, as Sam breathed in and out, comforted by your fingers tracing up and down his scalp and twisting idly in his hair. 

“Will it help if you tell me about it?” he asked after a minute. 

You considered the idea. “Maybe–later though, or tomorrow–not yet–and besides, Dean’s gonna be back soon,” you said. He looked up at you. Those big, pitiful–beautiful eyes that you’d walk across shattered glass and hot coals to see just one more time. You didn’t need to cut his arm to know he wasn’t a shifter. This was all Sam. You disentangled a hand from his hair and lightly prodded at his left arm causing him to release you. You slid your fingers down the length of his arm as he bent it up to you. When you reached his wrist you gently grasped it in your palm and pulled it up to your lips so you could press a kiss to his scarred palm. 

“I love you,” you murmured as you released his wrist. He glided his palm across your jaw and cupped it as he rose to his feet. Your other arm slid down and you slipped it under the back of his shirt to hold him just above his hip, urging him to stay close.

“Love you,” he whispered back. He held fastly, now, to either side of your face as he ducked down and pressed his lips to yours. You released his hip and lifted your hands, resting them over his as he held you, ensuring he didn’t release you before you were ready. You opened your lips to him and he hesitated for the briefest second before deepening the kiss and slipped his tongue momentarily along yours. You could feel the electricity buzzing between you as he started to pull back. You leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. 

“More,” you murmured against his mouth. Obedient as always, Sam kissed you back, hungrily now, like he needed your lips on his to sustain himself. He angled your face up and deepened the kiss with his tongue. Gently, he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and going back to your lips for more. You sighed into him as you released his hands. He let one trail over your neck as the other gripped your waist, pulling you closer and eliciting a low gasp from your lips. You cupped the side of his face with one hand as you let the other one return to his hair, just behind his ear where you drew light circles with your thumb. 

“I should shower,” you said, remembering Dean was on his way.

“I’m the one that needs the cold shower,” he whispered with a smirk as you rested your hands on his chest. 

“Oh please, it takes way more than that to get you going.” 

“Don’t be so sure,” he said as he gently grasped your hand and pulled it down so that you could feel his partially stiffened cock beneath his jeans. He smiled at the blush that flushed your cheeks as he shifted sideways, turning his back to the door and walked you backwards toward the bathroom. 

“I really missed you,” he said as he pressed his lips to the juncture of your neck and jaw. 

The roar of the Impala broke the trance and you broke apart. You listened as Dean pulled the car to the door and cut the engine off. Dean entered the room in a rush, not even bothering to shut the car door behind him. He looked to you and then to Sam and arched an eyebrow. You made your way to Dean as Sam sat uncomfortably down at the edge of the bed, tugging at his jeans as he crouched.

“You good, sweetheart?”

“Something like that,” you said as you hugged him. “Thanks for–” 

“ ‘Course,” he said as he continued to study you before glancing again to Sam. “Okay, well, you two ready to put this place in the rearview after we eat a quick bite? Because I sure as shit am,” he said as he clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. He turned and made his way back out the motel door, leaving it hanging open as he rifled through the back seat before returning with a plastic bag and a paper tray with three sweating cups of ice cold soda in one hand and a brown paper bag that smelled greasy and warm and delicious in the other. The smell awakened your appetite and your stomach rumbled in response. 

“Holy shit, I’m fucking hungry,” you said, eliciting a small chuckle from Sam. 

“Good, cause I got your favorite cheeseburger: extra mustard, extra pepper, add jalapenos,” Dean said as he kicked the door shut behind him and set the drinks down on the table. 

Your mouth watered as you took the bag from Dean and set it on the table, hungrily pulling a fistful of fries from the bag, and stuffing them in your mouth as you took a seat. You didn’t have the heart to tell him your throat may be too sore to enjoy mustard and jalapenos and you were too hungry to really care.

“Hey, those better not be my fries!” Dean shouted. You stiffened and glanced hesitantly in his direction. Sam’s lips twitched up into a small smile at you before he saw that Dean was handing him the plastic bag. 

“Oh, thanks,” he said hesitantly as he squinted at the bag. 

“Only thing around here was a wally-world so those’ll have to do,” Dean said as he made his way back to the table and sat across from you. He pulled one of the cups from the tray and took a long pull. 

You were already three bites into your burger and had dumped the fries on to the paper wrapping when Dean fished his food out of the bag. You turned and watched as Sam pulled a large shoe box from the bag and lifted one of the boots out. They were steel-toe, dark brown work boots. “They’ll definitely do,” he said as he pulled them on and fussed with the laces. To you, they looked closer to something Dean would choose for himself than what Sam normally wore but the options were surely slim.

“You gonna eat, Sammy?” Dean asked a moment later. You looked back to see Sam was still at the edge of the bed, watching you and Dean devour your meals. There was a hesitancy in his eyes that confused you and you furrowed your brows at him. He shook his head and smiled as he stood up.

“So, the bunkers good?” you asked Dean after handing Sam his burger. There were only two seats at the small dinette table so Sam sat at the foot of Dean’s bed and took a careful bite of his cheeseburger. 

“Good as it can be,” he said as he chewed a large bite. “Cass said everything was fine. Had to have been some kind of spell–a cloaking spell or an entry spell–that either the shifter already knew or got from, you know, Sam’s beautiful mind,” he said before taking another pull from his soda.

You grimaced at the thought. Sam let out a guilty huff before leaning his long body off the bed and over to the table and to take one of your fries as he kissed your cheek. 

“S’okay,” you said as he sat back down. You lifted your leg and rubbed your pointed toe along the side of his calf. A pained smile crossed his face as he looked to you.

You finished the last bite of your cheeseburger and took a giant gulp from the soda, tossed a few fries quickly in your mouth and stood up, wiping your hands off with a napkin. “Finish my fries for me, Sam,” you said. “Gonna shower real quick.” 

Sam’s palm rested on his knee and you made sure to pass him closely enough that you could graze two fingers over the back of his hand. His hand twitched reflexively from the sudden, unexpected touch. 

“Be careful of your cut,” he whispered. You smiled tenderly at him from the doorway before turning and shutting the door.

You showered–for the first time since–and it felt so good to finally, really wash the shifter off. You let the hot water relax the tension in your shoulders and neck and scrubbed gently at your scalp with the motel shampoo. You paid extra attention with the sudsy washcloth, trying to make sure you scrubbed every part of you that the shifter touched. It wasn’t enough, you could still feel it and as the memories started to enter your mind, you hurried through the rest of your shower, not comfortable to be alone with your own thoughts. 

When you were done, you put on fresh clothes you had tucked away in your go-bag. More plaid flannel, t-shirts and dark-washed jeans. The clothing was just practical for hunting, more than anything. Although, it was nice to look like you actually belonged with Sam and Dean when you went anywhere. Sometimes you would see other girls in their crop tops or chunky sweaters, baggy jeans and sneakers, floral dresses that cinched at the waist paired with platform boots–all things with even the vaguest whiff of a ‘fashion sense’ and you’d feel a pang of jealousy for yours long lost. 

You brushed gently through your wet hair and pulled it into a quick braid, easy and out of the way, the short pieces fell loose around your face. You peered out of the bathroom. Sam was packing his bag on top of his side of the bed.

He looked up when he heard the door open and turned back to smile at you. The front door hung open and you could hear Dean packing up the Impala.

“You’re so cute,” he said. You shrugged as you slung your duffel over your shoulder. 

You arched a brow at him. “I look like I went three rounds with a lawnmower,” you said with a huff of laughter as you sat at the edge of the bed to pull on your boots, dropping your bag back to the floor.

“I like when you braid your hair,” he said as he brushed one of the loose pieces back and tucked it behind your ear. 

“Cut to me–practicing a dutch braid–then–cue the montage–as I perfect the waterfall braid, the half-up half-down twist, the mermaid, the fishtail and the low plait as ‘Every Little Thing She Does is Magic’ by The Police plays,” you said with a grin as you laced your boots. 

Sam playfully rolled his eyes as he slung his bag over his shoulder before picking up yours and doing the same. 

“I can carry it,” you said, as you stood up and slipped your phone into your back pocket. 

“I know you can,” he said as he indicated for you to walk on in front of him. You shook your head before walking to the car and climbed in the backseat. Dean didn’t protest as Sam, too, climbed in back. You fell asleep, slumped against Sam’s shoulder, hands laced together over his knee as CCR crackled through the speakers.

[ariundercovers]

The Bridge (When Paths Cross Pt. IX, Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~3.6k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: The next morning. A surprise meeting and a long-anticipated conversation.

Chapter Warnings: no porn only plot, angsty fluff, spanish nicknames, idiots in love, references to suicide, death/references to death (external character).

A/N: If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feedback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts! And of course, just lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist, too!

PREVIOUS PART (VIII) HERE

It’s a very sleepy, stress free morning that starts perfectly - with you waking up in Javi’s arms. You don’t think either of you moved, hardly an inch, over the course of the evening. Chucho is up early to take care of the cattle, which leaves you two with an empty house and… well, virtually nothing to do to fill the time. You can only hope that he’ll be willing to talk to you, to have a real conversation about all of this mess you’ve been stewing in over the course of the week.

You’re in the kitchen with Javier, moving around him as you set out to make a pot of coffee. It’s a well-rehearsed dance at this point - you make the coffee, Javi makes the pancakes, one of few actual meals he knows how to put together. You move wordlessly around one another for a long while, and its Javi is the one who breaks the silence partway through the morning meal you’ve been preparing together. 

“Care to go for a ride with me?”

“A ride?” You question.

“Yeah. Take the horses, go for the day. There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

You look over at him eagerly and you agree, of course. How could you ever say no? You’re still not sure where the two of you stand in all of this, and a conversation still hasn’t happened yet, but you figure this might be the best opportunity you have available to get him talking. 

After you have your pancakes and coffee, you set out to gather up what supplies you’ll need for the day. You haven’t been on a ride this long before, so you pester Javi about what it is exactly that you need to bring. You pack yourselves a couple of sandwiches and a few drinks, stash them in a bag on Javi’s horse’s saddle, and head out to your destination which is… you’re not even sure where it is. The ranch is too big to be able to easily navigate on your own, so you just trust Javi and trot along behind him. 

It’s peaceful, silent even, as you ride along one of the cow paths that laces through the massive property. When you come to a large clearing, one you’re not quite sure you’ve seen before, he slows, coming up next to you as your horses continue along. 

He turns to you with an easy smile and announces, “I wanna take you to visit my mama.”

You’re shocked, to say the least. Shocked, confused, surprised, and, admittedly, a little bit concerned. Javi has never once spoken about his mother. You never asked, never pushed, because you figured it would’ve come up by now if he wanted to talk about it. You also figured he’d tell you the story of why she wasn’t around eventually, so you didn’t want to push or overstep. There were plenty of other things to talk about in the meantime.

But now, staring back at his timid but eager expression, you’re lost thinking about it. Who is she? What is she like? Will she even like you? You can feel a pit of nervousness boiling in your stomach, starting to worry already about how this might go. 

But more importantly, you’re stuck on the why. Why now, of all moments, would he introduce you to his mother? After the biggest fight you’ve ever had, after literally walking out on him the other night, after Javi virtually admitted to you that you didn’t have a future together.

”Your mother?” 

It’s all you can manage to say in response, taken aback so sharply by the suggestion. He nods back at you and his smile turns somber as he looks back into the seemingly empty distance in front of you.

“Not too much longer, cariño. We’ll be there soon.” He takes off on a trot again, back into the lead between the two of you. Following diligently, you watch as different gated pastures and trees and orchards pass by - some in better repair than others. You’ve only been out this far once, when Chucho gave you the official tour so long ago, now. You realize it must be a lot for Chucho to have been managing all of this on his own for so long, impossible to keep up with even the daily maintenance it would’ve required. You’re glad Javi is home to help. Chucho needs it.

You continue for some time, past the boundaries of what felt to have at least a modicum of familiarity to you. You didn’t realize how far the property went, sprawling in either direction along the river’s edge. Eventually, Javi slows once again, and you pull up next to him, watching as he dismounts with a graceful ease that you know you can’t replicate. You jump off as well, and he leads the horses over to a tree where they can graze freely while you’re here. 

Looking around, you’re confused. There’s no house, or building anywhere around you. You can’t imagine where someone would live all the way out here, so you wonder if perhaps you’re making a pitstop somewhere else first. Javi breaks you out of your reverie when he reaches over, hesitantly, and laces his fingers between yours, ending with a heavy squeeze of your palm. Javi’s fingers tap lightly against the back of your hand as he leads you into the field just up ahead, and that’s when you finally see it. A few hundred yards in front of you, a large billowing tree filled with beautiful full green leaves overshadows a few small stones - they’re headstones, you realize. 

Suddenly everything clicks into place. Why you’ve never been out here before, why there was no building around, why this seemed like such an odd place to meet Javi’s mother. 

Javi’s brought you to his family cemetery.

Your chest tightens immediately and a lump gets stuck in your throat as you piece it all together. The only thing you can think to do is squeeze his hand with your own, pulling it into your chest so that you can hold it with both of yours for a moment. He turns, glancing over at you with a look of gentle concern, and he can see the tears welling in your eyes that threaten to spill over.

“I’m sorry if I’ve never talked about her before. It’s… hard to talk about.” You nod back at him and offer him another light squeeze before releasing his hand back into the grasp of only one of yours.

“Don’t apologize for that. You don’t need to.” He nods back at you and you fall into an easy silence as you walk the remaining distance to the headstones, just three of them placed around the tree. Two, toward the back, look older - you figure they must be a set of grandparents or similar - and another one, newer, but still well worn, sits in front. He leads you to it and stares down at the stone. You read it once, then twice, and another five or six times until it finally sinks in. She was 43, and Javi was only 19 when he lost her. You can’t begin to imagine how traumatic that must have been.

He releases your hand, then, and takes a moment to smooth out his pants first, then his shirt, pushing his hands into the pockets, like he’s trying to make sure he looks presentable enough. The tears that were brimming at your water lines slip past the barrier and roll down your cheeks when he finally speaks up.

“Hey, mami. I know it’s been a while.” Your gaze flicks from the headstone to the side of Javi’s face, another few stray tears falling from your lashes. “Just wanted you to meet this one over here.” He reaches for your hand again, clasping it tightly with his own, bringing it up to his lips to kiss for a moment before he tells her your name, and introduces you as ‘his girl.’

You smile at that. There wasn’t another word for it that worked better. Girlfriend didn’t feel right. Too juvenile, not serious enough. But you weren’t anything more than that either, not yet. It warms your heart to know that he still thinks of you that way, even after everything. Especially after the way that you walked out on him the last time you were here.

Javi starts to speak, then, like he’s talking to someone right in front of him. “I miss you. Bad. All the time. I’m sorry I don’t visit like I used to. It’s been too painful. Easier to just run away, I think. But I wanted you to meet her. Needed you to, I think.” You blink back some more tears and just let him speak, watching as he gets down onto his knees and sits back on his heels. “I hope you’re proud of me. I know I’m not so proud of me most days anymore, but I hope you are. I only ever wanted to make you happy. I miss you.”

Raising his fingers to his mouth, Javi presses a kiss to them before placing his hand gently on the earth in front of him. “I love you, mami,” he adds before standing. He pulls you in front of him, then, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as he buries his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his heavy breathing and the way his breath breaks, like he’s holding back his own tears. There’s nothing you can do but hold tightly to him and let him ride it out however he needs to, so you do exactly that.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, staring, with Javi’s strong arms wrapped tightly around you, when he finally releases his crushing grip and stands at your side once more. Reaching for your hand again, he turns and leads you back toward the horses in silence before you take a seat together beneath the tree he had them lashed to. It’s a long ways away now, but your eyes keep darting to the headstones at the base of that tree as you sit in silence. You can’t help but wonder so many things about it, how it happened, why, why here, why now. 

Javi scoots in close to you and leans his head against yours, turning to press a kiss to your forehead briefly before he finally speaks up.

“I’m sorry to surprise you with this.” You sigh softly and turn so that you can look him properly in the eyes.

“No, Javi… don’t. Don’t apologize. Not for this.” He nods back at you and closes his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb for a moment.

“I just… this is really hard for me. Trying to force myself to open up about it. But I want you to know. I need you to, I think.” You try to offer him the easiest smile you can manage, eyes softening as you reach out to place a palm gently on the side of his cheek. You can't help it but to use your thumb to smooth out a few stray mustache hairs, while you’re at it.

“Okay. Then I’m listening,” you finally respond. Javi takes a long, slow breath, looking up at the sky as he exhales before looking back down to you. He starts, slowly, like he’s thinking about each and every word as he speaks.

“My mom was the love of my life. She was… everything. My whole world. But she, um…” He clears his throat, shaking his head as he looks over toward you. “Sorry. Didn’t think this would be as hard to talk about after all these years.” He pauses for a moment longer as he blinks a few times, shaking his head softly. “My parents loved each other more than I’ve ever seen anyone love another person. Ever. It was so clear to everyone who came around them.  And when she…”

His eyes flutter closed and he drops his head, taking another deep breath, almost like it pains him to do so. You can see the agony on his face, in his body posture. It’s everywhere. “When she left us, everything shattered. And I… well, I promised myself I’d do anything in my power not to feel that kind of pain again. Even if it meant pushing people away, running away. All of these things you’ve seen me do now… that Pops has had to watch me do time and time again. Everything that happened in Colombia. I thought it would be easier.” 

Inching closer to him, you reach out timidly for his hand, lacing your fingers together as you offer him whatever gentle affections you can without breaking his train of thought.

“But then you showed up, and you rocked my entire world. Everything I had demanded, decided for myself, suddenly felt wrong, and I was afraid. I was afraid and so I pushed you away, trying not to let myself fall into it. But I did, anyway. You made it impossible not to.” You just smile back at him, thumb rubbing along the back of his palm.

“I’m scared, muñeca. Absolutely fucking terrified of feeling all of this all over again. Whether it's now, or ten years from now, I know it’s coming. And I don’t know if I can take it.” He shakes his head more viscerally this time, looking at you then, pleading silently. “No. I know I can’t. 

“Baby…” You can’t help but answer him, try to offer him some amount of reassurance. “You’re putting on the brakes for something that you can’t even see. Something that might not even happen.” His eyes close again and he drops his head, squeezing your hand softly once.

“I know. Logically, I know that. But I can’t make that fear go away. It’s just always… there.” You sigh and cock your head to the side, hoping to get a look at his face, but you can’t manage it.

“Can you look at me, Javi?” His head lifts, eyes watery as he looks at you with the softest, most somber expression you’ve ever seen on this so often so cocky and sure of himself kind of man. You have a million things to say, but you want him to have the chance to talk through things first, before you start. So you try to open with an easy question, or so you think. “Can I… Can I ask what happened to her?”

He stares at you for a long moment before he lets out a deep breath and his lips part like he’s going to speak. There’s a tense silence between you before he begins. “She… took her own life. She never left a note, or anything. Just… did it. Left me and Pops alone to fend for ourselves.” Your eyes widen and your heart absolutely shatters for him, reaching for his other hand so you have both in your own, now.

“Javi… oh God, I’m so sorry. I can’t… I can’t even imagine.” He nods and offers you an uneasy smile as a tear slips down his cheek.

“I know. It's okay.” He reaches out with a gentle hand to wipe away the tears from your face, and you do the same for him, both of you smiling sadly at each other for the moment. “I don’t mean to be such a sap,” he adds.

“That kind of hurt doesn’t just go away, Javi. It’s okay to be a sap about it, to still feel it so viscerally.” He takes a second to think about it before he answers.

“I know. That’s kind of my point. I feel it every single day. Every time I think about her, I feel it over and over again. It’s less than it used to be, that pain has faded a little bit, but it's still there. And I can’t… I just can’t imagine going through it again. So I thought if I made these rules for myself, if I didn’t let myself get into the kind of situation where I’d have to feel that kind of pain again, that things would be easier. No strings, no attachments, just me and my own sanity, you know?” You nod, starting to understand why he’s built these walls around himself so thickly, with such tough and seemingly unbreakable materials. It’s all starting to finally make sense to you.

“Yeah, I get it. It’s a coping mechanism. Just… a really long-term one, right?” He nods affirmatively and gives your hands a little squeeze.

“Yeah. Exactly that.”

“And you’re telling me this to… explain why you won’t think about the things I asked you? Or- are you…” You can’t manage to get yourself to speak the words. Luckily, Javi swoops in and speaks them for you.

“Yes and no. Yes, because that’s why I said the things that I did. That’s the reason. No, because I… well… fuck. You, uh… you managed to burrow yourself in there pretty deep already. And the thought of losing you right now is killing me. It’s killing me. It feels almost as bad as when I lost my mom, it’s just different. And I can’t do it. I can’t lose you, not now.” His eyes are still watery as he speaks, and all you want to do is lean in and kiss the tears away, but you know better than to do that. You have to have this conversation, first.

“I understand. At least I think I do. And I’m sorry, Javi, for storming out like I did. That wasn’t right of me.” You know he’s not the only one at fault here, your reaction not being the best, either, however warranted it may have felt at the time.

“No, no… I wasn’t treating you right. You had every right to walk out on me, cariño. I shouldn’t have been acting like that.” You nod and sigh, one hand reaching out to card softly through his hair, behind his ear, before it comes to rest in your lap once again.

“You can’t just dictate things at me like that again, though. It’s not okay. This is a partnership, right? Between the two of us? We need to talk about things, talk about our wants and desires and make choices that let us both compromise a little. Make each other happy, you know?” He nods, face falling slightly.

“I know, I know. I do. I didn’t do a good job of that. I shouldn’t have ever just blurted that all out at you and then not been willing to talk about it. That was fucked up.” You smile, sitting up a little taller before you continue.

“I was wrong, too, though. Storming out when things get tough doesn’t work, either. We’ll never get anywhere if that’s my response. It was a bad reaction on my part.” He chuckles lightly and offers you a half-smile.

“Kind of warranted though, wasn’t it?” You laugh nervously for a moment and then shake your head vigorously.

“No, not to that degree. I totally lost it.” He nods, understanding what you mean, luckily.

“Alright. How about we start this over? Can I ask that of you?”

“Of course, you can. We can do this - we can figure this out. I know it.” Your face is hopeful as you look at him, wishing for him to be willing to level with you, for you both to be able to move on and keep growing from this.

“Yeah. I like that plan.” A heavy breath releases that you weren’t aware you were holding back, and it feels like the world has left your shoulders. You’re not sure how you expected this conversation to go. Likely, badly, if you’re just being honest with yourself. And the truth of the matter is that it’s gone a lot better than you expected it to. You feel lucky. Not everyone would be willing to open up to you in the way Javi just has. And you feel honored - honored to know, honored to be a part of his and of Chucho’s lives. You didn’t realize before just how much you want that. 

“I’m sorry, cariño. I’m so sorry,” Javi adds.

“I’m sorry, too,” you counter.

There’s an easy silence between the two of you as you sit and just look at each other for a long while. His fingertips roam the backs of your palms and your thumbs brush softly across the backs of his.  You let yourselves just bather in the long moment of silence before you continue. There’s one more hint on your mind that you have to know, have to get off of your chest. 

“So can we… can we talk about that stuff? It doesn’t need to be now. Just… sometime.” He nods, reaching for the sides of your face to pull you in for a kiss. It’s the lightest, most gentle kiss you think you’ve ever had - lips barely grazing over one another’s, just enough to know that you’re both there, together.

“Yes. Te prometo, muñeca. Juntos. We’ll make those decisions as a couple, I swear it.” You smile back at him and sit up slightly, your hands overlapping his on your face. “Together, this time. No unilateral decisions from either of us, okay? I promise.”

“Okay, Javi. I promise, too. Together.”

~~~

A/N: So I know this was an intense one. I took a LOT of inspiration from some of the things Pedro has talked about regarding his own mother in this, so I'm curious if anyone picked up on that. This is the last fluff/angst chapter for now - back to our regularly scheduled smutting and fluffing soon, I promise!

xoxoxo

Taglist: @amyispxnk @picketniffler @kirsteng42 @vee-bees-blog @samiamproductions @grippysockedtoebeans

(lmk if you'd like to be added!)

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