#🖇️ : oneshot

[yooniivrse]

diet pepsi | jjk

summary. stuck in the rain, jungkook can’t resist the sweetness of your lollipop—or the taste of your lips.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationship au (kind of?), suggestive

word count: 1.4k

content/warnings: allusions to car s^x / kissing / making out

notes: inspired by this ask. ik i’ve only written for yoongi on here until now, but i thought that jk fit the request better. as always, asks, reblogs, likes, comments and feedback are so so appreciated! not my best work but i hope you enjoy my loves <3333

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main masterlist

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The rain had been falling for hours now, in waves so steady it felt like the whole world had dissolved into a haze of mist and water. Jungkook’s car was the only thing cutting through the fog, its headlights barely illuminating the slick pavement ahead.

The city lights blur in the distance, their neon colours muted by the downpour. Inside, it was warm, quiet, with only the soft hum of the engine and the patter of rain against the windows.

You sit in the passenger seat, the candy on your tongue melting into a slow, sugary sweetness. A lollipop, something you had absentmindedly grabbed from the convenience store before you hit the road. Now, you twirl it between your fingers, occasionally taking it back into your mouth, tasting the sweet tang as you watch the rain race down the window.

Jungkook, next to you, is focused on the road. His grip on the steering wheel is relaxed, the ink across the back of his hand disappearing into the shadows cast across his skin every so often.

His eyes flicker in your direction, catching the movement of the lollipop between your lips. Though the movement is subtle, you don't miss the way his jaw tenses, or how he shifts in his seat ever so slightly. His expression is cool, his face unreadable, but a small smirk teases a corner of your lips.

The soft glow from the dashboard casts shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Can I have a taste?” His voice is smooth, cutting through the low hum of the engine, playful but low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You glance over at him, brows raised slightly in surprise by the sudden request. You slide the lollipop out from between your lips, holding it out in front of him with a teasing tilt of your head.

His eyes flicker from the road to the candy, then back to you. “That’s not what I meant.”

Your pulse quickens at the subtle undertone in his voice. The suggestiveness lacing his words isn't lost on you, and something about the way the rain made everything outside feel distant and forgotten made the air inside the car feel thick, heavy with an unspoken tension. You plop the lollipop back in your mouth, swirling it around in a deliberately slow manner, before pulling it out again, this time letting your teeth drag lightly across it.

“Oh?” you murmur, turning your body toward him, leaning a little closer. “What did you mean, then?”

Jungkook shoots you a sidelong glance, his lips curving into a small, almost dangerous smile. He doesn’t answer right away, letting the question hang in the air between you, like the lingering fog outside the car. His fingers flexes against the steering wheel, and you watch the way his knuckles whiten as his grip tightens.

Outside, the rain begins to fall harder, each drop splashing against the windshield like tiny explosions. The wipers move faster, thundering from one side to the other, but it only made the scene beyond the glass more distorted, more dreamlike. The city lights turn into glowing streaks, the world outside reduced to a blur of motion and colour.

Inside, it feels as though time has slowed.

“You’re gonna make me crash if you keep that up,” he mutters, his voice thick with something deeper, rougher.

“Am I distracting you, Kook?” you asked, your voice light, but the challenge in it was unmistakable. You blink at him innocently, failing to hide the cocky smile that draws across your lips.

His hand tightens on the wheel for just a second, and you know you have him. His eyes are still locked on the road, but there's something in the way his breath quickens, the way his body shifts, that tells you he's paying more attention to you than he is to the endless stretch of highway in front of him.

Without saying anything, you lean back into your seat, drawing the lollipop slowly into your mouth again, the sticky sweetness spreading across your tongue. You can feel his eyes on you, a quick glance, before they flick back to the road. The air between you crackle with a tension that feels like it might snap at any moment, and you revel in it.

Minutes pass, the rain a constant backdrop, the car a world of its own. Every now and then, Jungkook would exhale sharply, and you’d catch him watching the way your lips moved around the lollipop, the way your mouth worked the candy with deliberate, languid motions. It's a game, one you know you're playing well, and you can feel him slipping.

And then, just as you're about to push him a little further, Jungkook’s hand moves from the steering wheel. He reaches over, his fingers brushing against your thigh, light at first, but firm enough that it sent a jolt of heat through you. His touch is warm, steady, and he gives your leg a gentle squeeze.

“I’m pulling over,” he says, his voice deeper, rougher now, no longer trying to hide the want simmering underneath.

Your heart skips a beat, a thrill running through you as you watch him steer the car toward the side of the road. The rain hasn’t let up, pouring harder now, but it doesn’t seem to matter. The world outside has already disappeared, fading into nothing more than a wet blur, leaving just the two of you.

Jungkook shifts the car into park, the engine still running, headlights casting faint beams through the thick curtain of rain. He leans back in his seat, exhaling slowly, before turning his head to look at you, his gaze dark, heavy with intention.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he says, his hand still resting on your thigh, his fingers now tracing lazy circles over your skin.

You smile, a small, knowing smile. “You know you love it.”

He doesn't deny your words, and simply watches you for a long moment, as if weighing what to do next. Then, slowly, his hand slides higher, his fingers brushing the hem of your denim skirt, teasing the skin beneath. The warmth of his touch sends a wave of heat coursing through your body, and suddenly the air inside the car feels too thick, too charged.

Jungkook moves his hand up from your thigh to cup your cheek, and you pull the lollipop out of your mouth just before he presses his lips to yours.

His touch is soft at first, the pressure he puts into the kiss feather light. When he pulls back, your eyes remain shut for a few more seconds. He moves his thumb across the apple of your cheek and your eyes flutter open.

In an instant, his lips return to yours with such force that you freeze for a second. He kisses you roughly, refusing to part from you as if you might cease to exist if he does. His mouth is sweet, his breath tinged with hints of mint, and a small sound escapes your throat when he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth.

Goosebumps rise across your skin as his kisses move along the curve of your jaw, his electric touch leaving you breathless.

You pull apart from him only when you're forced to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes dart across your parted lips.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover, his hands slipping back to your waist, pulling you closer again as if he can't stand the distance between you. His kisses trail down your neck, slow and deliberate, each one more intense than the last. His lips graze over the sensitive skin just below your ear, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips.

He pauses for a second as you stare at him with eyes clouded with desire.

"Fuck," he groans. "Get in the back seat, baby."

[ctrlhope]

The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[koishiro]

# - 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Yuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, Yuta Okkotsu, Maki Zenin, Satoru Gojo & Toge Inumaki

masterlist | jjk masterlist | upcoming anon asks

Yuji

Yuji downright catches you two making out completely by accident. He borrowed a copy of a certain manga from megumi and planned to return it so when megumi told him just to bring it to his room to return it when he found the time, he not so subtly stumbled upon his two friends. Megumi was sat on his bed, you comfortably on his lap as sucked faces. His hands were rubbing your bad under your shirt, toying with the strap of your bra. Megumi’s hands moved to your hips to grind you on top of him.

Just as you were about to take the lead - “oh shit” stood at the entrance of your boyfriend’s door was non other than Yuji, eyes wide as he took in the position of you both. It took a few seconds of stuttered and jumbled up words only for megumi to grab a pillow and throw it in Yuji direction “piss off! Why don’t you knock next time?!” Narrowly missing the attack, yuji bent down to place the manga on the floor before quickly scurrying off in the furthest direction, “I’m so telling Gojo Sensei!”

Nobara

Nobara can tell straight off the bat just simply from the way you smile. “Why’re you smiling so damn much?” She’d ask, knowing damn well why. “Don’t I always smile this much?” Normally she’d agree until she sees the way your eyes flicker over to the table behind her, already imagining the love-stricken face a certain dark haired boy held. The next clue was the your reaction to a notification sounding on your phone, nearly diving for the device and soon followed by an even wider smile. “You’re practically glowing, you fucked already huh” whipping your head towards your friend you fumble over your words as a hue of pink stains your face - a dead giveaway. “that’s a sex glow if I’ve ever seen one”

Yuta

He is the one who keeps his nose out of everyone's business but even he couldn't help but feel intrigued when he noticed that Megumi had your scent on him one morning. Tasked with training with the first years, he was paired with Megumi. Battling back and forth caused the two to be within close proximity to each other, allowing Yuta to notice the whiff of perfume on Megumi’s uniform. Strange, where had he smelt that before? He’d find it strange how strong the scent was and took it upon himself to find out.

His opportunity arose on his walk through the school’s gardens, nearly knocking heads with you before he caught himself. Yuta didn’t even have time to open his mouth before a certain scent practically punched him in the face. And it certainly didn’t help when he was sat between you both on the field, overwhelmed with the mix of smells. “Do you guys swap deodorant or something?” Megumi just scrunched his eyebrows in frustration, his attention taken away from his book, “what the hell are you talking about now?” The irritation was clear in his voice as Yuta’s eyes flickered between you two. “You two smell like each other, why? You sleeping in the same bed or somethin’?”

Maki

Ohohoho she knew. Maki’s not stupid, she can see the way you both steal glances at each other, the secret smiles in the hallways, the ‘slick’ passing of notes… so when you start making excuses on days you’re due to train together she knew exactly where you’d be. “I’m really sorry but my mum asked me to head into Kyoto later to get something for her” another one of your white lies bled through your teeth. She just raised an eyebrow to your poor excuse. “A-ha, you heading there with your boytoy?” This of course caused you to trip over your words- “wha-I don’t-boyfriend? What’s that?” Only to receive a deadpan face in return.

Not only was that embarrassing enough but you just had to run into her in the hallways of your school - no less holding hands with your ‘boytoy’. “Oi name!” You heard from the other end of the hall, and unfortunately for megumi, causing your instincts to kick in. Quickly snatching your hand from his grasp you shoved him into a nearby classroom (hopefully not currently in use) followed by a crash bang - the tell tale signs of an upcoming injury and whiny boyfriend. “What was that?” Although she knew full well what - or who - that was. “Nothing! You’re seeing things!” You spat out in a panic. “Uh-huh, well tell megumi to come out when he has time, he has training with Gojo Sensei”

Gojo & Toge

Toge, the bastard, even though his speech fails him that doesn’t stop him from becoming the school’s gossip queen. Toge would be the one to tell everyone in the school group chat which of course includes Gojo which also leads the entirety of Japan to find out. And Gojo, oho Gojo, he’d make it his life mission to involve himself as much as possible in Megumi’s life. They’d actually work together; Toge would gather information and pass it on to his Sensei only for Gojo to use it against his son. They’d have their little gossip sesh during class of course, absolutely no shame whatsoever. But the way they found out was unfortunately unforgettable.

Walking into class after hours to get his pencil case that he mistakenly forgotten, Toge only walked in to find you sat on megumi’s desk with the boy sat on his chair with his head on your lap. Megumi had a girlfriend? Toge was almost convinced that he wasn’t into girls seeing as he paid no attention or care to the opposite sex. Oh how wrong he was. Of course he took a picture, what else was he supposed to do? Walk away? “Oh and what’s this?” Behind him of course was non other than the infamous six eyes - also his teacher. “Little Megumi’s not so little anymore huh”. If anyone were to see them they’d surely come off as creeps with Gojo’s tall frame shadowing Toge’s, both peeking through the screen door of the classroom. “Send me that picture won’t you?” Fortunately for them they didn’t make themselves noticeable, unfortunately for you word spread the next day.

—

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : I feel like I’m forgetting someone…

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

[just-nc-tea]

do you think i'm f͟r͟a͟g͟i͟l͟e͟? ☆ ͡ ⊹

⭑.ᐟ The coaches daughter -  Lee Heeseung A car accident has turned your life upside down, leaving you with a knee and ankle that ache like they belong to someone three times your age. Navigating college with these setbacks is hard enough, but when your overprotective dad insists you take an internship with the men’s hockey team, you’re thrust back into the world you’ve spent years avoiding. The rink represents everything you’ve lost—and then there’s Heeseung, the captain whom you somehow cannot stop thinking about.

series masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ genre. College sports aus, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, a lot of falling asleep in the same bed, some good old family drama .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, car crash, Y/N just had surgery and is using crutches, partying, some making out .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 30.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹  ᝰ an.I haven't written or published anything in like 8 years i think! And back then everything i wrote was in German so this was my first time propperly writing in English! I am not 100% pleased with this but i kinda also wanted to finally post this

The sound of crunching metal and the violent jolt of impact were the last things you remembered clearly from that day six years ago.

You had been sitting in the front seat, your legs tucked comfortably into the seat as your dad drove through the light rain on a Saturday morning. “Soobin’s got nothing on me once I perfect my wrist shot,” you told your father excitedly, looking at him in the driver's seat. He nodded and briefly glanced at his phone in the cub holder, frowning when he saw a new message. He shifted in his seat, his focus divided.

You noticed the change in his expression but tried to keep the conversation light: “I was thinking... maybe you could watch the scrimmage today? I’ve been dying to show you how much better I’ve gotten.” Your voice held that hopeful edge, the one you always used when you wanted his approval.

“I’ll try, kiddo,” he said, though his tone was distracted. Before you could respond, your father’s eyes flicked back to the road—and froze. Ahead of the two of you, a truck skidded wildly through the intersection, its tires screeching on the wet pavement. Time seemed to slow as your father’s hands gripped the wheel, his mouth opening in a shout of warning that came too late.

The impact was deafening.

In the split second before the collision, you felt your father’s arm shoot out in front of you in a reflexive, futile attempt to shield your body from impact. Then, all at once, the world turned upside down. The sound of metal smashing against metal rang in your ears, so loud it felt like your head was splitting. Your body was thrown violently against the side of the car, your head slamming into the window with brutal force. You heard the crack of glass, the sharp crunch of bones, and then... pain. Blinding, searing pain exploded through your body, radiating from your foot up into your chest. It stole the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping, choking on your own breath.

Everything was chaos. The car spun, tipping slightly before jerking to a stop. For a moment, everything was still—then the world came rushing back in a torrent of pain and noise.

Your vision blurred as you tried to move, but your body wouldn’t respond. Your leg was pinned beneath the crumpled car door, and every tiny shift sent fresh waves of agony through your body. You could barely register the sound of your father’s frantic yelling, the way the rain tapped softly on the cracked windshield, the music that was still playing. You blinked, your vision swimming as your father freed himself from the wreckage. You saw him stagger out of the car, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead, his expression panicked, desperate. He tried to open your door, but it was crushed inward, trapping you in place. You heard him shout your name, but the sound felt distant, muffled, as though you were underwater. Seconds later everything went dark.

You sat between Soobin and Minji, the faint hum of your mother bustling in the background. The whole room smelled of the kimchi stew your mom cooked for dinner. She placed the final dish down, her apron still tied loosely around her waist. “Soobin,” she said, smoothing a stray hair from her forehead and handing him a bowl of rice. “How was class today?”  

Soobin scooped a generous spoonful from the bowl, a smile spreading as he dug in. “It was fine. Professor Kim’s still trying to crush our souls with assignments, though. I’ll probably have to pull another all-nighter.”  

Minji snorted, leaning across the table with a teasing grin. “When do you not pull all-nighters?” Soobin shot her a mock glare but didn’t argue. “The grind doesn’t stop,” he quipped.

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “What grind?” you teased, nudging his shoulder with your own.  

The light banter bounced around the table, filling the room with laughter. Minji had just launched into a story about her teacher tripping during class when your father cleared his throat. The sound sliced through the warmth like a blade, dragging all attention toward him.

His focus was zeroed on you. You felt the weight of his question before he even opened his mouth. 

“How’s physio going?” he asked, his tone more like an accusation than a question.  

You kept your eyes on your plate, your fork idly pushing your food around. “It’s fine,” you said, trying to sound neutral. “I had a good session yesterday. I’m starting to put some weight on my foot.”  

Your father’s fork froze mid-air, his expression darkening: “You’re already putting weight on it?” he asked, his voice tightening with disapproval.  

“Yes, Dad,” you replied, bracing yourself. “That’s how rehab works. I don’t just stay on crutches forever.”  

His hand gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening. “You’re rushing it. I’ve been around injuries my whole career. Just because the therapist said you can doesn’t mean you should.”  

The fork in your hand trembled, and you set it down with a clink. The heat of frustration prickled at the back of your neck. “I’m following the plan they gave me. They know what they’re doing.”  

Your father leaned forward, his voice rising. “No, they don’t. They don’t care about your long-term recovery. They just want you off their caseload so they can move on to the next patient.”  

Anger surged in your chest, hot and sharp. “You’re not a doctor,” you snapped, your voice cutting through the tension like shattered glass. “I trust them more than I trust you when it comes to my body.”  

The room fell into a suffocating silence. Minji’s hand hovered over her bowl, frozen mid-bite, while Soobin stared at his plate, his jaw clenched. You met your father’s gaze, refusing to look away.

His voice dropped to an icy calm, each word deliberate and cutting. “I’m just trying to keep you from making a mistake. But if you think you know better, fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you’re back in surgery.”  

His words struck like a slap, but you swallowed the hurt, refusing to let it show. You clenched your fists under the table and took a big breath. Soobin glanced at you and nudged your foot with his in a silent sign of support.

“Actually, I was thinking about something that might help you,” your father continued in a casual tone, as if the argument moments ago hadn’t happened.  

You blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt pivot. “What?”  “The athletic department needs someone for PR for the men’s hockey team,” he said, his voice laced with an almost forced enthusiasm. “It’s a great opportunity for you to earn the credits you missed last semester.”  

Your stomach churned at the suggestion, the tension in the room amplifying tenfold. “No,” you said firmly.  “Dad, I really don’t want to do that. I’m not into hockey anymore. You know that.” “Why not? It’s a great way to get back into it. You did love it before the accident.” he pressed.

“You just answered your own question, Dad. Before the accident, I did love it.” You felt the frustration bubbling inside, fighting against the facade of calm you tried to maintain. 

Your mother interjected, her voice firm but caring. “Woosung, you need to ease off. Pushing her into this isn’t the answer. We talked about this before.” 

“Pushing? I’m just offering her a way back into something she once loved!” he snapped, his frustration mirroring your own. 

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a mix of anger and hurt. “Mom, I appreciate you sticking up for me, but I can handle this. I do not want to do it, Dad.” 

Your father leaned back, crossing his arms. “I thought you might appreciate having something to focus on, a way to ease back in.” 

“It’s not about easing back in. It’s about not wanting to be part of that world anymore. I don’t want to help with hockey PR. I just want to focus on my studies and figure things out on my own,” you asserted, frustration edging your voice. 

Your father’s expression hardened, but you could see the concern behind it. “I just wanted to see you succeed. I thought this could help.” “It’s not what I need!” you exclaimed. “I’m tired of everyone expecting me to dive back into hockey just because I had so much potential. I don't have it anymore, okay? I need to figure out who I am without all of that. Helping with the team won't help me at all.”

“Fine,” he said curtly. “Do whatever you want.”  

The rest of dinner passed in an unbearable silence, the warmth and laughter from earlier now a distant memory. The clink of dishes and the faint hum of the kitchen fan were the only sounds as you counted the seconds until you could leave.  

When you finally stood to go to your room, your father called out from the living room, his voice gruff. “Y/N, just… don’t overdo it, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt again.”  

You paused in the doorway, the faint light from the hallway casting shadows across the room. “I know,” you muttered, the words hollow.  

As you made your way upstairs, the tightness in your chest refused to ease. In the sanctuary of your room, the air felt no lighter. You leaned back against your pillow, the familiar ceiling staring back at you. 

The sound of skates scraping against the ice echoed faintly through the arena as Heeseung leaned against the boards, catching his breath. Practice had just wrapped up, and the team was filtering out of the rink, chattering about drills and weekend plans. Coach Choi stood near the bench, his clipboard tucked under his arm, his sharp gaze following the last few stragglers off the ice. “Heeseung, got a minute?” the Coach called, his deep voice carrying easily over the ambient hum of the arena. Heeseung turned, brushing a gloved hand over his damp hair. “Sure!” He stepped off the ice, his blades clinking against the rubber flooring as he approached. His Coach gestured for him to sit down.

“I have been thinking about the team’s image,” the Coach began, his tone casual but deliberate.  

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Image?”  

Coach nodded, tucking the clipboard under his arm. “Yeah. You boys are doing great on the ice, but you’re not just players—you’re prospects. Scouts, sponsors, even alumni donors—they pay attention to more than just your games. They want to see personalities, professionalism, something marketable for their teams.”  

Heeseung crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the boards. “I am aware, sir. But what does that have to do with me?”  The Coach gave a small smile, the kind that hinted at plans already set in motion. “I’ve been in touch with the athletic department. They agreed we need someone to handle the team’s social media—build a strong public image, keep things polished.”  

Heeseung tilted his head, curious. “A PR manager?”. He wasn’t aware that the team had the funds to hire a person to post a few pics of them on instagram to appease the sponsors. As the captain he was included in quite a few organizational meetings and has had to endure endless lectures about how the boys are not supposed to go overboard when partying because it shines a bad light on the whole team and how it could compromise the career of everyone there. But never had he heard anything about a PR manager. 

“Exactly. I was thinking of Y/N,” Coach said, nodding, “she is missing a few credits and this would be an easy and quick solution. That way we dont have to do interviews, since I do know my daughter quite well.” 

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard. He knew you, if only vaguely. You have met at a few team events over the last year and at a few parties. Soobin introduced you as his sister and warned everyone that you were off-limits. He knew that Beomgyu was quite close to you, so he assumed you weren’t off limits for everyone. The few conversations you had with him gave him the impression that you were quite fun. He also knew that you were hot. He respectfully checked you out a few times and then mentally bleached his eyes, when he realized whom he was looking at.

“Your daughter?” he asked your father, his coach.  

The Coach nodded, his expression softening slightly. “She knows hockey inside and out. And she’s good with this kind of stuff—social media, PR, that kind of thing. It’ll be good for her, and it’ll help the team.”  

Heeseung hesitated. He didn’t know you well enough to have an opinion, but he could guess that working alongside the team—especially under your father’s watchful eye—wouldn’t be simple. Soobin had told him that his father was quite overbearing with his sister after a car accident and how it's annoying the whole family. “Are you sure she wants to do this?” Heeseung asked carefully.  

Coach’s expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “She’ll do fine. She’s been looking for something to focus on, and this is a good opportunity for her. Plus, it’s not like she’s starting from scratch—she grew up around this sport.”  

Heeseung nodded slowly, still uncertain. “Okay. What do you need from me?”  

“I need you to help make this transition smooth,” Coach said, his tone firm. “She’s going to be around a lot, and I don’t want her feeling like she’s an outsider. Make sure the guys treat her with respect, and if she needs anything, you help her out.”  

Heeseung frowned slightly. “You’re not asking me to babysit her, right?”  

Coach let out a low chuckle. “No, she doesn’t need babysitting. But you’re the captain. It’s part of your job to make sure the team stays cohesive. She’s here to help, not to be a distraction or a target.”  

Heeseung considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Got it. When does she start?”  

“Next week,” Coach said, his tone decisive. “The athletic department’s finalizing the details, but she’ll be here soon enough.”  

As he walked away, his thoughts lingered on the unexpected news. He knew having you around would be an adjustment for the team—and maybe for you, too. But if Coach trusted you to take on this role, then he’d make sure to give you a fair shot.  

“Y/N! Over here!” Chaeryoung exclaimed when you entered the small café on campus the next day. The café had been closed for a few weeks after the original owner passed away, and his son had taken over. Many students visited the old barista more than once a week, and everyone had been distraught by the news of his passing. When his son reopened the café, getting a seat had become quite a challenge.

You slid into the booth opposite Chaeryoung and carefully set down your crutches, making sure they were out of the way of the bustling café. The warm aroma of coffee and fresh pastries enveloped you as you took a moment to soak in the familiar atmosphere. “Hi, guys! It's so nice to be back here. How was Kinesiology today? Did your presentation go well?”

“Ugh,” Yeji groaned, dramatically resting her head on your shoulder. “I don't even want to think about it. I thought I was okay until Sunghoon and EJ presented. Now I feel utterly incompetent.”

Chaeryoung chuckled, shaking her head with a teasing smirk. “You’re being dramatic! What did you expect? They’ve got that whole jock thing going for them.”

“Not to feel like an idiot because some utterly pretty hockey players have the time to create a more or less perfect presentation even though they don’t have time for anything but training and partying?” Yeji retorted, her voice rising in exasperation. She turned to you, her expression softening. “We already ordered for you. I hope you’re alright with hot chocolate?”

“Sure! Thank you, love. Also, Sunghoon isn’t a hockey jock, he’s an ice skater,” you reminded your friends with a knowing grin.

“Hockey, skating, yada yada, it’s all the same. They spend a lot of time on the ice,” Ryujin shrugged.

Lia leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Speaking of ice hockey players, I had international law with Jay today. He looked like he was going to slam his head into the table when Professor Binns started handing out the grading sheets for the exams. Did their game not go well last week?”

You shrugged, the corners of your mouth twitching up as you recalled the conversation with Soobin. “Considering my dad told Soobin relatively harshly he’s supposed to get his head back in the game, I assume it didn’t go well"

“Oh, bummer. That’s probably why they didn’t go to the swimming team’s party last weekend. It was wild!" Chaeryoung nodded, her enthusiasm infectious.

“What party?” you asked, genuinely curious, since you’d been out of town visiting your aunt in Riverfield.

“Felix invited us to a party at their house. Well, it started as a small meetup, but suddenly it wasn’t small anymore,” Chaeryoung explained, her eyes widening at the memory.

Yeji waved her hand dismissively. “You didn’t miss out on anything, though. We ended up leaving early because it got a little too crazy for my taste,” she said, accepting the steaming drinks from the waitress. 

You opened the door to your families house. The aroma of the reheated Samgyetang from the day before wafted through the air, instantly making your stomach growl.

“Hey, you’re back!” Soobin called from the living room, where he was sprawled on the couch, game controller in hand. He glanced up, pausing his game. “Did you bring me anything?”

You shook your head, laughing. “If you wanted something from Corner's Creek, you should have told me when we saw each other in the cafeteria.”

“Pfft, why should I even have to ask? If I were you, I’d bring my precious brother some cake without him having to ask,” he replied, flashing a cheeky grin. “How was the café? Still as good as when Mr. Yoon was there?”

“Yeah. His son changed a few of the drinks on the menu, but they sounded nice! And they now do those cookie croissant waffle thingies? Amazing, honestly.” You plopped down on the sofa next to your older brother, carefully lifting up your leg into a more comfortable position. Soobin made an interesting noise at the thought of eating one of those.

“Did you think about the internship offer Dad gave you? I heard him talking to Heeseung about it. How you’re missing credits and how he wants you to take it,” your brother asked, tone careful.

“Don’t get me started on it. He’s been pushing this internship with the hockey team on me like it’s life or death,” you said, stirring your chili absentmindedly.

“Maybe he just wants to connect with you.” Soobin’s tone softened. “He might think this internship is a way to bridge the gap. You know it’s his world—and it was yours too, before the accident.”

You sighed, leaning against the counter. “You’re starting to sound like him. Honestly, Soobin, that’s not supposed to happen until I’m an aunt to your kids. I just don’t care about hockey anymore. It feels like every time I turn around, it’s all about hockey, hockey, hockey.”

“Look, Y/N, I get it. But if you need those credits to graduate, maybe it’s worth considering.” He crossed his arms, looking at you earnestly. “If anyone gives you trouble, I’ll have your back. I’ll just remind them that I’m still the older brother and boss around here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh dryly. “Right, you’ll just walk in and be like, ‘Watch out, boys! Y/N’s brother is here!’” “Exactly!” He chuckled, and for a moment, the tension eased. “But seriously, you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. If you can handle what you’ve been through, this internship is nothing.”

“Maybe. I just wish it didn’t feel so… forced,” you replied, blowing on the steaming food on your spoon. “I want to find something I’m passionate about. Also, it feels unfair to others who actually care about it. I’d be something of a nepo baby.”

“It’s just one semester. If you hate it, you can quit. But at least you’ll know you tried. Plus, who knows? You might end up being the best hockey PR person out there. I mean, what do you think I hear? Coach’s son playing in his team, the co-captain? Nepo baby runs in our blood."

You rolled your eyes again, but this time, there was a hint of a smile. “I’ll think about it, okay? But I’m not making any promises.” “Fair enough.” Soobin shrugged, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just promise me you’ll at least consider it. Besides, it’s not like you have any better options right now.” You nodded slowly, knowing he was right. “Yeah, I guess.” After a night brooding over what Soobin said, you decided to go with it and accept the offer. He was right—if anything, it was just one semester, right? You’d get your credits, your dad would get off your back, and you’d have Soobin and your father, the literal coach, as backup if you needed it.

So after your last class the day after, you went to the ice rink and carefully knocked on the door to your father’s office. “Come in,” your father called through the closed door. You opened the door and pressed your lips into a tight smile when you saw him hunched over some documents

“Y/N,” he stood up, “how can I help you?”

You walked closer to his table and sat down in the chair across from his desk. “I talked to Soobin yesterday. About the internship.”

A moment of silence stretched on as your father waited for you to continue. “Did you decide to take up my offer?” he asked.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I decided to give it a shot. Just for one semester, though. I’m not promising anything beyond that.”

Your father’s expression shifted from anticipation to a mixture of relief and disappointment. “That’s great, Y/N! I really think this could be a good opportunity for you. You’ll learn a lot about PR and social media, and you might even discover a new passion.”

You rolled your eyes, already feeling the frustration bubbling up inside you. “Dad, it’s not about discovering a passion for hockey or PR. I just need the credits to graduate. I’m not expecting some life-changing revelation from this.”

“Then why even bother?” he retorted, crossing his arms defensively. “If you’re going into it with that attitude, you won’t get anything out of it.”

“Because I don’t want to keep disappointing you,” you shot back, your voice rising. “You’ve made it pretty clear that you think I should be involved in hockey somehow. This is just a way to keep the peace, right?”

Your father clenched his jaw, visibly frustrated. “I’m not trying to force you into anything, Y/N. I just thought you’d want to be part of something that means so much to our family. This isn’t just about hockey; it’s about being part of a team, a community.”

You leaned forward, your palms pressing against the cool surface of his desk. “But I don’t want to be part of that community, Dad! Not anymore! All I ever hear from you is hockey, hockey, hockey. I care about things other than hockey.”

He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “I didn’t mean to put that pressure on you. But you need to understand that I’m proud of what I do, and I thought you’d want to be a part of it. I thought maybe being around the team would help you feel less isolated."

You stood too, feeling a mixture of anger and hurt. “It’s not about your pride, Dad! It’s about my life and my choices. I don’t want to feel obligated to fulfill your expectations. I just want to be me. And for the record, I am not isolated. I have friends and a life! It’s just not hockey.”

He softened for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. “I know, Y/N. But you have to understand that I’m coming from a place of love. I want the best for you. I thought this would help you find your way, especially with how difficult things have been for you.”

“Maybe you need to let me find my own way instead of trying to steer me down the path you’ve laid out,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. For a moment, silence hung between you, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

“Okay,” he finally said, his voice quieter. “I’ll back off. But I hope you give this a real chance, for both our sakes.”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and uncertainty. “I’ll try, Dad. But just know I’m doing this for me, not for you.”

He offered a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You arrived at the rink an hour earlier than scheduled, more out of nervousness than necessity. The familiar smell of the ice, mixed with the faint hum of the arena’s machinery, makes you stop for a second. Standing near the glass, you watched a few players skate laps. The sounds of blades cutting into the ice reverberate in the empty rink, and for a moment, you feel a pull in your chest. You press your crutches into the ground, standing straighter as you try to shake off the creeping frustration. You've gotten good at suppressing it over the years, convincing yourself that you’ve moved on.

“Are you lost or something?” You blink and turn to see Heeseung, standing a few feet away, looking amused. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear him approach until his voice interrupted your moment of self pity. You turned around and caught the moment where he recognized you.

“Y/N? Didn’t expect to see you here this early.” He settled his bag down next to you.

“I could say the same to you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “But I guess the captain needs to be the first one on the ice, right?”

Heeseung grinned and shrugged. “Part of the job,” he said, then nodded towards the rink. “Are you already trying to figure out how to make those losers good on Tiktok?”

You shifted your weight slightly, gripping your crutches a little tighter. “Something like that,” you muttered, glancing back at the ice.

He looked at you. “You sound thrilled.”

“Yeah, I am absolutely thrilled,” you said, your voice cool.

“Did your dad convince you to do this?”, his eyes softened a bit.

You didn’t know how much Heeseung already knew about your situation, how much Soobin or his friends that you were also close to have told him so you just shrugged: “Honestly? Kinda. But what can I say, I am here now so there is no turning back, right?”

“God wait until you get to know the others. You will regret your decision. I don’t think we have a lot of potential to be the Tiktok star your dad wants us to be.”, he chuckled

“God Hee, don’t remind me.”, you lean your head onto the glass that separated you and the rink, cringing at the cold sensation. He laughed out loud and patted your back. Someone shouted his name and he grabbed his gear from the floor, while you leaned back again.

“Alright,” he said, watching you with a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’ll leave you to do your very important PR duties. But, uh, if you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.” He pushed his hair out of his face and winked at you. You just rolled your eyes and bid him goodbye. 

Your office was a small, window-lit room with one side dominated by clutter. On the messy side, stacks of papers, unopened mail, and scattered office supplies covered multiple surfaces, including an old wooden filing cabinet. A half-empty bookshelf leaned under the weight of folders, some piled haphazardly on top of one another. Boxes of miscellaneous items were stacked in a corner, threatening to topple. In one corner stood a seemingly clean desk, which you assumed to be the one you would be working from. You settled in, trying to ignore the mess on the other side of the room, while pulling out your laptop to take a look at the team’s social media accounts. 

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting in front of a flipchart, surrounded by notes and scribbles of ideas for content. Your research had turned up dozens of trends and challenges that could work for the hockey team’s social accounts, but your enthusiasm was running low. The chair you were sitting on felt like it was designed for maximum discomfort, and you were seriously considering bringing your wheelchair the next time. You sighed, shifting your weight in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position. Your hip started aching about 20 minutes ago.

Just then, the door creaked open slightly, and Heeseung’s head popped in. “You surviving in here?"

Without looking up, you muttered, “Barely. What do you want, Heeseung?”

He chuckled and stepped fully into the room, leaning casually against the wall. “Nothing much,” he said, flashing his trademark grin. “Just thought I’d check in. You know, make sure the new PR girl isn’t drowning in spreadsheets or choking on influencer jargon.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not drowning. Yet.”

“Well, that’s good,” he replied, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer to the desk. “Though you kinda look like you’re this close from walking out of here and never coming back.”

You snorted despite yourself, leaning back and stretching your arms. “Trust me. This chair? Torture. It makes me want to get out of here asap.”

As he moved closer, you noticed a faint, fresh scent—like soap and something woody, maybe a hint of citrus. He must have just showered. His hair was still damp, a little messy. He looked very attractive in the annoyingly bright light of your office.

Heeseung pulled up a chair for himself and sat down across from you, resting his arms on the table. “So, what’s the plan? Are you trying to turn us into TikTok stars?”

You shrugged, gesturing to the flipchart. “That, or I’ll at least try to make sure you guys don’t look like total idiots online. There’s a fine line. A good start would be acceptable Instagram accounts. Tell me why some of you post random pictures of food with 20 filters slapped onto them.” You shifted in your seat, trying to ignore how nice he smelled, but it was hard not to notice. You weren't sure why, but it was definitely a little distracting. Get a grip, Y/N.

“Ah, come on,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “We’re already halfway to ‘total idiots.’ You’ll just make us look... what? Funny idiots? Also my Instagram is pretty and aesthetic!”

“Something like that,” you muttered, unable to suppress a small smile. “I found some trends, figured we could hop on a few of them. I’ve got ideas for locker room Q&As, pre-game routines, that kind of thing.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a plan,” Heeseung said, nodding as he scanned the notes. “So, when do we start?”

“We?” you scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Last I checked, I’m the PR person. You’re just the guy with a stick trying to hit a rubber thingy.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, Y/N. You’ll need my charming face to pull off half of these ideas.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, though it was becoming less from irritation and more out of habit. “Oh yeah, because that’s exactly what’s going to save this campaign—your charm.”

“Admit it,” he teased, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You know I’m right.”

“Admit what? That you’ve got an ego the size of this rink?” you shot back, shaking your head. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Heeseung grinned, clearly unfazed by your sarcasm. “Hey, can’t blame a guy for knowing his strengths.” You let out a soft chuckle. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Heeseung."

He stood up, stretching lazily, and you noticed how his shirt pulled just slightly across his chest. You quickly averted your eyes, but not before catching the way his muscles shifted beneath the fabric. Okay, yeah. Definitely kind of hot. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your spreadsheets and dance challenges. But seriously, if you need anything—or, you know, some extra ‘charm’—you know where to find me.”

You smirked, shooing him toward the door. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now go away, I’ve got real work to do.”

He threw you a mock salute as he backed out of the room. “Yes, ma’am. Just don’t forget to give me a heads-up when you need me to be the face of your operation.” “Don’t hold your breath,” you called after him, shaking your head as the door closed behind him.

The next day, you were sitting at a round table in the student library, your textbooks spread out in front of you, trying to focus on the notes for your upcoming exam. Chaeryong sat next to you, furiously typing something into her laptop, while Beomgyu, who had already given up on studying, leaned back in his chair with his phone in hand, holding your injured leg on his lap. You sighed and leaned back in your chair, finally breaking the silence. "I took that internship, by the way."

Ryujin looked up from her screen, raising an eyebrow. "The hockey one?"

You nodded. "Yeah, the PR thing for the men’s team. Dad convinced me, and Soobin kind of guilted me into it too. It’s only for a semester, so I figured I might as well."

Beomgyu snorted, glancing up from his phone. "Oh boy, you’re going to be stuck with us now. We’ll have to treat you like royalty, Coach’s daughter."

You rolled your eyes. "Please don’t. The last thing I need is people treating me any differently."

"Don’t worry," Beomgyu grinned, his eyes playful. "I’ll make sure the team knows to mess with you as much as possible. No special treatment."

Before you could continue, the conversation was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey, there you are!” Soobin’s tall frame came into view, followed closely by Yeonjun, who stopped behind Chaeryoung to press a kiss onto her head: ”Hi baby.”

She glanced at them, unimpressed. “What’s this about?"

“We’re kidnapping them,” Yeonjun said with a smirk, gesturing at you and Beomgyu. “Coach needs everyone at practice, and Y/N here has a meeting with the team.”

Beomgyu groaned, half-joking as he packed up his things. “And here I was, hoping to spend my afternoon in peace. Guess not.”

You, however, were a little more reluctant. “Wait, I thought I didn’t have to do anything with the team until later this week? I haven’t finished on collecting my thoughts? I am starting from 0 and i am not investing my free time into research?”

Soobin shook his head, grinning. “Nope, the sooner you meet everyone, the better.”

Chaeryoung leaned back in her chair, laughing. “Good luck with that, Y/N. You’re going to need it.”

You shot her a look before standing up, grabbing your crutches, and letting Soobin lead the way.

The locker room door swung open and the noise (and borderline disgusting smell) hit you all at once— talking, laughing, skates clinking. Yeonjun clapped his hands together and announced dramatically, “Alright, listen up! We have a very important guest today.”

Beomgyu chimed in, “Try not to scare her off, okay? She’s family. Like in a literal and theoretical way.”

You rolled your eyes at their antics but couldn’t help smiling. These two were practically brothers to you—they spent so much time at your house growing up that your mom would always joke that she had three sons instead of one. When all three of them got accepted into the sports scholarship Delicis offered your parents threw a party for their sons, which ended in all of you crashing over at Yeonjuns place after you all drank a bit too much of the sparkling wine. Just the thought of the day after made your stomach upset. 

Heeseung, sitting on a bench tying his skates, looked up and spotted you. He grinned at you as he stood up, leaning casually against the lockers. “Hey, if it isn’t our new PR expert. Early again. You sure you’re not secretly excited to be here?”

You scoffed, leaning into your crutches a bit. “No, Heeseung, I’m not excited to be here. I was kidnapped and should be studying econ right now.”

Jay, who was in the same economy course as you, groaned. "Please don't remind me. I feel like I am at least 10 weeks behind and the semester started four weeks ago."

A few of the guys laughed, but Soobin interrupted them: “Alright, listen up,” he said, his voice carrying authority. “Y/N’s going to be helping us with PR this season. Treat her with respect and do what she says, got it?”

Trying to ease your own discomfort, you forced a smile and crossed your arms. “Look, I’m just here to do my job. I won’t annoy you all too much!”

One of the players, EJ?, leaned back against the lockers with a smirk. “Does that mean we are going to be the next Charlie D’amilio?”

You laughed, unable to help yourself. “That depends. Can you dance?”

Jake, still sitting with his skates half-done, quipped, “I’d pay to see EJ try to pull off one of those TikTok dances.” The room erupted in laughter and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders release at the sound.

A few days later, you opted to skip class after an especially grueling session of physiotherapy. You lay sprawled on the worn sofa in Ryujin’s appartment, breathing in the comforting aroma of spaghetti carbonara simmering in the kitchen.

You called out over the sizzling bacon, “I swear to God. I can feel the bruises coming. My legs and my left ass cheek are going to be black and blue tomorrow. I won’t be able to properly sit down!”

“Nobody is seeing your legs or your ass, girl. Just wear a pair of pants, and the problem is solved,” Ryujin shot back, stirring the pan with a wooden spoon. The warm, buttery smell mingled with the salty scent of bacon, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

“Unless you want to show someone your ass?” she teased, glancing back at you with a playful smirk.

“Not really. Who would want to see my blue and black scarred arse unprompted? Do you want to see? I’ll undress just for you, baby. Magic Mike style. Magic Y/N!” You wiggled your eyebrows, shifting the frozen chickpeas from your ankle to heave yourself into your wheelchair.

Ryujin rolled her eyes, laughing as she scooped the cooked pasta into the pan. “I love you, and I have seen plenty of your naked ass already, but I don’t need you to erotically strip for me, Y/N. You are not really my type, I’m sorry.”

You clutched your chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Ryujin!”

“Ha ha! I’m sure we can find someone who would like to see your ass. There are plenty of hot guys on campus that are horny 24/7,” she shot back, glancing over her shoulder as she added a sprinkle of cheese to the mix.

“Sure. And 25 of them are on the hockey team,” you deadpanned, your mind wandering to the group of boys you were now working with. The thought of the players made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, sure. But all 25? Soobin is part of that horny group as well?” Ryujin handed your cutlery.

“Honestly? Yeah. I mean, Dad is pretty strict with him and Minji about dating since he thinks they would get distracted, but Soobin definitely appreciates some good-looking arses. Not mine, though. That would be disgusting.” You shuddered at the thought.

“Girl. Ew,” Ryujin replied flatly, shaking her head, and you both burst into laughter.

A few hours later, you rolled into the rink, greeted by the sound of skates scraping against ice and the faint scent of sweat. The boys’ training session was already in full swing, punctuated by grunts and your dad’s authoritative voice barking out encouragement and critiques. Navigating your way through the rink was fairly manageable in your wheelchair. You opted to maneuver around the rink rather than suffer through sitting on that demonic seat in your office for a few hours, especially after gaining a few bruises on your behind and legs. Seriously, your physiotherapist could have not put her entire body weight on her elbow. You didn’t care that it would help your muscles relax? About every muscle in your body was tensed while she tried to relax one in your arse?

You had asked your dad for a few items from home to make the room feel a bit more inviting. You made him buy some more plants and a floor lamp for a more comfortable light source.  A cherry and a pink dinosaur sonny angel were sitting on your desk alongside the greenery. You brought printed pictures of your friends and various art prints, but without your crutches, you decided to leave the task of hanging them up for another day. If you were to work here for the next six months you could definitely personalize the room a bit. 

You were mid-scroll through your R&B playlist when you heard a light knock on your office door. Without looking up, you called out, “Come in!”

Yeonjun poked his head in, flashing his usual grin. “Hello my dearest Y/N!”

Behind him, Soobin and Beomgyu strolled in, still in their sweaty practice gear, looking completely worn out. Beomgyu flopped dramatically into the chair near your desk that Heeseung never put back. “Yeah, sure, come in and just take over my whole workspace with your stinky gear,” you teased, though you didn’t mind the company.

Beomgyu groaned, stretching his legs out like he owned the place. “This break isn’t long enough. Coach is killing us out there. I swear I’m going to die.”

Soobin rolled his eyes, perching on the edge of your desk while Yeonjun leaned against the wall. “You’ll survive. We’ve had worse drills.”

Yeonjun smirked. “Speak for yourself. I’m not built for this much cardio.”

You laughed. “Maybe you should stick to dancing for TikTok, Yeonjun. You know, where you can actually breathe.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “That’s where my talents really shine. Wait until you see the TikToks I’ll be making for the team.”

When it was time for the boys to go back into the rink all three of them groaned. Beomgyu let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’m not moving from this chair. I don’t care that its uncomfortable.”

Yeonjun glanced around the room, raising an eyebrow at the mismatched furniture. “Speaking of uncomfortable... this office is seriously lacking. We need to get Coach to clear out the second half of the room so we can put in a sofa or something.”

You glanced at the cluttered back half of the office, filled with old sports equipment, boxes, and random items. “You’re not wrong. This place could use some serious cleaning.”

Beomgyu perked up. “Oh, a sofa would be amazing. We could take naps during breaks.”

You grinned, but gave Soobin a playful push toward the door. “Okay, okay, design committee. Go back to practice before Dad drags you out of here himself.”

As they shuffled out, Beomgyu gave you a lazy salute. “We’ll be back with a proposal for the Coach!” You laughed, shaking your head as they left the room, leaving you in the quiet once again

Heeseung had been at the rink longer than usual tonight. After practice had officially ended, he stayed behind for some extra drills, working on his shots while his mind wandered.

He was standing in the shower after, letting the hot water wash away the tension from his muscles. The clean scent of soap and his woodsy cologne clung to him as he dressed, ready to finally head home. He was on his way out, thinking about his bed, when he saw the light still on in your office room.

He peered through the open door and saw you still at your desk, your face illuminated by the glow of your laptop. He hadn’t expected to see you there so late. Most of the team had left, and the rink was practically deserted. What were you still doing here?

He knocked lightly on the doorframe. “You’re still here?” You glanced up, looking more exhausted than surprised.

“You too?” you shot back, though there was a flicker of warmth in your tired eyes. “I thought everyone had gone home by now.”

“I did some extra laps,” he said with a lazy smirk as he stepped inside, making his way over to your desk, his damp hair falling slightly into his eyes. His eyes drifted across the various decorations you had brought into the office. He picked up one of the tiny figurines from your desk and turned it over in his hand with a grin. “What’s with these little guys? A personal touch?”

You gave him a mock glare, clearly more amused than offended. “They’re called sonny angels, and yes, this office was depressing. I needed to liven it up.”

Heeseung laughed softly, putting the figurine back down carefully. “Why would you bring naked angles.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Don’t make fun of my babies. Besides, I’m pretty sure a pink dinosaur would look amazing in your locker. Might even give you a few extra goals on the ice.”

Heeseung laughed, setting the figure down gently. “Oh, for sure. Nothing screams ‘fearless hockey captain’ like a pink dinosaur mascot.”, he sat down on the edge of your desk, “So, what’s keeping you here so late?”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Just finishing up a presentation for the team. It’s taking longer than I thought.”

Heeseung glanced over at the cluttered desk, noting the piles of papers and sticky notes you were using. “And you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Nope. I like torturing myself,” you said dryly, then raised an eyebrow as he continued to toy with one of the angels. “Are you done judging my office decor now?”

Heeseung twirled the figurine in his fingers, then squinted at it. They did look cute, somehow. “I mean, I’ve got questions. First off, what’s up with this one?” He held up a small pink angel wearing a dinosaur costume. “Did you really choose this? And why is the other one naked?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “No! I wanted the red dinosaur one but kept getting the pink one instead. Three times! So, this is what I’m stuck with. And honestly I am not sure but they are cute.”

Heeseung laughed, genuinely amused by the annoyance in your voice. “So you’re telling me this cute little thing is the result of failure? That’s tragic.” He shook his head, mock-sympathetic, before placing the pink dinosaur angel thing back on your desk with exaggerated care

“Tragic doesn’t even cover it,” you replied with a deadpan expression. “I have one in my room, one in my car, and now this sad thing is stuck here, reminding me of my poor luck every day.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Well, pink dinosaur or not, it’s got character.” You just laughed at that. He watched you for a moment, noticing how your shoulders were slightly hunched. His gaze dropped to the wheelchair you were sitting in. He hadn’t seen you in it much before today. You usually relied on crutches when you were out and about. His curiosity got the better of him: “You alright today?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Saw you using the chair earlier. Tough day?”

You hesitated, and for a moment, he thought you wouldn’t answer. But then you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Physio was brutal. Sometimes it’s just easier to use the chair instead of crutches. Less strain, you know?”

Heeseung nodded slowly, processing your words. His chest tightened a little at how nonchalantly you explained it. Like it was just another part of your day, no big deal. He wished he could ask more—about what happened, how you went from being an athlete to sitting in this chair—but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It wasn’t his place, and he wasn’t about to make you relive something painful just to satisfy his curiosity. He couldn’t imagine having to adjust to something like that, especially after living a life as active as yours. Soobin claimed you were good—like, really good, that you had a future in hockey, but... He shook the thought away, not wanting to dwell on what you had lost. It didn’t seem fair, and it wasn’t something he could fix.

“You know,” he said, looking around in the room. “This office still feels so crammed and uninviting. You need a couch or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, your playful smirk returning. “A couch, huh? You are the second person to tell me that today?”

He grinned, setting the picture back down. “Actually, Yeonjun and I were thinking about it even before you had the office. We need to get Coach to clear out the junk on the other side of the room so we can move in a couch. You’d have a nice place to chill while pretending to work.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “And by ‘chill,’ you mean take naps, right?”

“Exactly. I’d probably use it more than you.” He made a mental note to talk to the Coach and Yeonjun about it. The two of them almost had the Coach to approve of their idea before it was decided you would move into this room. Honestly it was probably better for them to not have a sofa here. He got a headache when he thought of the prospect of finding people doing something unholy here.

Heeseung glanced at the clock. It was late—too late for you to still be working and for him to still be in the rink. He frowned, leaning back on the desk. “You’re not staying here alone, right?” he asked, his voice a little more serious.

You looked up. “I’m almost done. I’ll leave soon.

“Yeah, no,” Heeseung said, shaking his head. “I’m not leaving you here by yourself. It’s dark, and the rink is practically empty.”

You gave him a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “You’re not seriously going to babysit me, are you?”

He crossed his arms, standing firm. “Pretty much. I’m not letting you argue your way out of this.”

You sighed, clearly not in the mood to fight him on it. “Fine,” you relented, though he could tell you weren’t really annoyed. “But I’ll be here a while. I still have some things to finish.”

He grinned, leaning back on your desk like he had all the time in the world. “I’m great company, remember? Besides, someone’s gotta make sure your pink angel dinosaur thingy doesn’t run away.”

You laughed, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “I think I can handle my own angels, but... thanks.” He plopped himself down in your empty office chair, watching as you worked, occasionally teasing you about the presentation or critiquing the décor you’d added to the room.

When you stepped into the rink after your classes on Thursday, the first thing you noticed was Jay, EJ, and Beomgyu hauling the old wooden filing cabinet that had been collecting dust in your office. They were making quite the effort, each one grunting as they maneuvered the bulky piece of furniture toward the exit. All three were struggling, shouting different variations of "Hey!" as they saw you walk in.

“Hi! What's going on here?” you called out, laughing a little at the sight.

Beomgyu glanced back at you, a proud grin on his face. “We’re upgrading your office!” he shouted, nearly dropping his end of the cabinet as they stumbled toward the exit.

“Oh?” you scrunched your nose in confusion.

On your way to your office, you passed a couple more of the boys—Taehyun, Jake, and even Sunghoon—all carrying random bits of old furniture and equipment that must’ve been living in your office forever. The rink seemed unusually lively for an off day.

When you finally stepped into your office, you were met with the sight of Soobin, Heeseung, and Yeonjun cleaning the floor of the cluttered side of the small room. While Jay was reading the instructions to the frame of a ikea sofa, which was still in its parcells leaned next to the door.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, seriously… What’s going on?”

Soobin shot you a sheepish grin. “Well, I figured that after Dad basically forced you and I guilt tripped you into accepting the internship, the least we could do is make this place less awful.”

“So we talked to Coach Lee,” Heeseung added, clearly amused by the situation. “And your dad.” He grinned, standing with his arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. “And guess what? You’re getting a sofa. A nice one too.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, well,” Soobin jumped in, “Coach Lee kind of convinced him. Said you needed a place to rest. And since Dad’s all for you being extra careful, he gave in. Reluctantly. He wasn’t thrilled, but he said yes.”

Yeonjun smirked from his spot against the desk. “So, congratulations on your sofa.”

You blinked, still trying to process. “You really convinced him to get you your sofa? For the record, that was fully your idea, I did not wish for one.” You looked around, almost not believing it.

Yeonjun, who had been lounging on the cleared desk, leaned forward. “Hey, we’re doing this for you, alright? You deserve a place to chill. But, you know... if a nap happens here or there...”

“Yeah, I figured,” you teased, rolling your eyes, “of course. You’re all just so thoughtful.” But despite your playful tone, you really were touched. They’d gone through the trouble of getting permission from your dad, which was no easy task, and now they were basically transforming your workspace into something a lot more comfortable.

Soobin shrugged, feigning indifference. “Hey, at least now you won’t be stuck in this depressing office.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung chimed in, his grin growing wider. “And now you’ll have even more space for your red dinosaur angel collection.”

Yeonjun gasped theatrically, hand over his heart like you’d just broken some unspoken rule. “Wait, wait, wait—you pulled the red one and didn’t tell me? What kind of betrayal is this?”

You groaned, already regretting letting them see your desk decorations,“They’re Sonny Angels!" You sighed, shaking your head. “I didn’t pull the red one, Yeonjun.”

Heeseung chuckled, walking over to your desk, picking up one of your Sonny Angels. “Well, when you do, make sure to put it right here. It can be the centerpiece of the whole office.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the teasing was making it hard to stay serious. “I’m not turning this office into a shrine for my Angels, but thanks for the suggestion.” Jay snickered from where he was now heaving one parcel towards Heeseung.

Soobin knocked his shoulder into yours, “Honestly, Y/N. Your office was lacking big time. We gave it some character!”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun added with a grin, “and when we’re not napping in here, you can totally use it too.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Gee, thanks. I’ll make sure to reserve my own office for whenever you’re not busy.”

Despite all the teasing, you felt your chest warm with appreciation. The fact that they went out of their way to make sure you’d be comfortable, going as far as convincing both the coach and your dad—meant a lot.

“Seriously though,” you said, looking between them, “thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Heeseung waved you off, but his smile was genuine. “Hey, anything for the team’s PR girl. You are able to ruin everyone's reputation in here.”

“And we can’t let you suffer in this sad office,” Soobin added with a smirk.

Jay stretched dramatically, shooting you a wink. “Now you can suffer in comfort.”

Heeseung wiped the sweat from his brow after the grueling training session, his legs heavy and tired from the extra drills. It was as if your dad had dialed up the intensity after seeing the boys have a bit of fun with you earlier. Heeseung chuckled at the memory of EJ’s goofy dance moves, knowing full well that your father had caught wind of their little behind-the-scenes moment. "No fun allowed," he thought wryly, shaking his head. Heeseung wasn’t the Coach’s biggest fan. He was too strict, especially when they lost, and lately, his overprotectiveness toward you had only made things tenser. Heeseung got it, though. It couldn’t be easy to see his daughter in a wheelchair after being an athlete herself, but still, the coach’s comments were always a little too pointed, a little too controlling.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Heeseung found himself walking toward your office, knowing that even though the rest of the rink was quiet and nearly empty, you’d probably still be there, editing videos or catching up on schoolwork. It had become a familiar routine over the last few weeks—after most of the team had left, Heeseung would often wander up to find you, usually hunched over your laptop, absorbed in your work. Sure enough, when he knocked lightly and poked his head in, there you were. Your wheelchair was parked near the desk, and you had your laptop open with a few TikTok videos you’d been editing playing on repeat.

"Hey," Heeseung greeted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Still working?”

You glanced up from your screen, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, just editing some stuff for the ‘Get to Know the Player’ series. I can’t believe I got EJ to do that dance.”

Heeseung laughed at the memory, throwing himself onto the sofa that had recently appeared in your office.

"I am just trying to make sure I don’t accidentally make EJ look too good at dancing.”, you shrugged and replayed the video.

Heeseung snorted, pulling up a show he’d been watching lately. “You couldn’t make him look good at dancing even if you tried. He’s a lost cause.”.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you saved your work. “I think it’s charming. And it’s getting views, so…”

“Of course it is,” Heeseung said, grinning. “The team’s already loving the content. They’ll do anything for their fifteen seconds of fame.”

He stretched out on your sofa, letting out a loud, exaggerated groan as he sunk into the cushions. You smiled but kept your focus on the screen. Heeseung clicked on the latest episode of the new season of The Walking dead he’d been binge-watching, fully knowing he should probably be writing his essay on whatever topic his professor had picked out instead. But the idea of opening his laptop right now made him feel even more exhausted.

As the show played, Heeseung made occasional comments under his breath, reacting to the twists and turns of the plot. You were typing away, seemingly ignoring him, until he let out a surprised “No way he died!”

You glanced up, narrowing your eyes. “Heeseung, don’t spoil anything! I’m not caught up yet.”

He looked at you with mock innocence. “I didn’t spoil anything! I just… reacted.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you muttered, trying to focus on your work. But Heeseung did not want to keep quiet. He quite enjoyed your attention on him so he occasionally gasped and muttered exclamations, making you groan in exasperation. “Heeseung, seriously! Shut up! If you spoil anything for me, I’m never letting you nap in here before training.”

Heeseung laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! No spoilers, I promise.”

You fell into a comfortable silence again, with Heeseung watching his show and you finishing your work. He was trying to pay attention, but his eyes kept gazing over and he was about to fall asleep. It wouldn't be the first time that he actually took advantage of the sofa to take a nap. Last week he had a free period before his training session and decided to go to the rink to train on his own a bit. Instead of training you lured him into your office with the offer of cupcakes you baked and after talking for a bit you continued working on an essay and he took the chance to take a quick nap.

“You good?” you asked, saving your work and closing your laptop.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah… I mean, I guess. I’m just tired. Like, really tired.”

You looked at him sympathetically. “Long day?” “Yeah, and school’s just... killing me right now. I’ve got so much work to do, and I’m so behind. But I can’t seem to get motivated to do anything. I was supposed to write an essay tonight, but I’ve been lying here watching Netflix instead.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes it feels like there’s just too much going on all at once.”

Heeseung rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the weight of everything he hadn’t done start to press down on him again. “It’s just... I don’t know. Between hockey and school, and trying to keep up with everything else, it’s exhausting. And I know I should be doing more, but sometimes I just want to do nothing.”

You tilted your head, giving him a soft smile. “You’ve been doing a lot, though. You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Heeseung. It’s okay to take a break.”

He gave you a grateful smile but didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, after a pause, he spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “I just… don’t want to let anyone down, you know? The team, my professors, the coach, everyone expects me to be perfect.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” you said gently maneuvering your wheelchair to the sofa, “I don't think you’re letting anyone down. You’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough.”

Heeseung let out a long breath, nodding slightly as he made space for you to sit down next to him. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“It's been a rough day for you too? If you are sitting in the wheelchair?” Heeseung asked, steering the conversation away from himself for a moment.

You hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “I’m just tired. Physio’s been rough lately, and I guess it’s catching up to me. My dad’s been extra… you know, ‘Dad’ about it all.”

Heeseung hummed, understanding what you meant. The coach could be intense. You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were quiet for a moment before speaking again, your tone a little more subdued. “It’s been rough. I try not to complain too much, but… today’s just one of those days.”

He nodded, feeling a small pang in his chest. He wanted to ask more, to understand what exactly you were going through, but he didn’t want to pry too much. Instead, he carefully asked a question that had been lingering in his mind since Soobin had mentioned it in passing. “I know this might be a bit personal, but... Soobin told me you used to play before the accident.” he said carefully, gauging your reaction. “I mean, with your family, it makes sense, but… I don’t know. It must’ve been hard, having to stop.”

Your eyes flicked toward him, and for a moment, Heeseung wondered if he’d crossed a line. But then, to his surprise, you nodded. “Yeah, it was,” you said quietly, your voice a little strained. “I did. I was on the ice all the time. It was my life, honestly. And then… well, then the accident happened.” You paused, seeming to gather your thoughts. Heeseung stayed silent, letting you continue at your own pace. “It was a car accident. We were hit by a drunk driver,” you said, your voice tightening slightly, as you pull your uninjured leg towards your chest. “I-most of my left leg was jammed up and stuck in the wreck. And that was it. No more ice hockey. No more running around. Everything changed after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” Heeseung said softly, not really knowing what else to say. His heart clenched at your words. He could only imagine how hard it must’ve been for you, growing up in a family so deeply rooted in hockey, only to have that taken away after the accident. He’d seen firsthand how strict and overprotective your dad could be.

You gave him a small, sad smile. “It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with it. Doesn’t mean it’s easy, though. I mean I was pretty lucky.”

Heeseung nodded, wanting to say something that would make it better, but knowing there were no magic words that could fix something like this.

You shrugged: "It’s tough sometimes, but I’m finding new things to love. Like, I never thought I’d enjoy editing TikToks and running the team’s social media, but it’s been fun.”

Heeseung smiled back at you, “Well, for what it’s worth, we’re all really glad you’re here,” he said sincerely. He was glad you were there but he wanted to kick himself for saying something as cringe as that.

You blinked, a small smile playing on your lips. “Thanks, Heeseung.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging between you, but it was a comfortable silence—one that came from understanding, from knowing they didn’t have to say everything all at once.

Finally, Heeseung broke the quiet. “Alright, I’m gonna shut up and stop spoiling.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Thanks. But seriously, don’t you dare spoil anything. I’ll never forgive you.”

Heeseung grinned, leaning back on the sofa, feeling a little lighter. “Deal."

"Coffee? Or hot chocolate?”

Heeseung looked up from his textbook, startled as you stood in front of him, holding out two cups. His brows furrowed, clearly confused. “I didn’t ask for—”

“I know,” you cut him off quickly, setting the cups down beside him. “But you looked like you needed it.”

He blinked at you, processing for a moment. “Thanks,” Heeseung finally said, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, relieved smile. “But… why?”

You let out a breathy laugh, feeling a little more at ease now that he wasn’t brushing you off. “Last night,” you said, shifting on your feet, “I figured I owed you something after you waited for me and drove me home even tho you were dead tired.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, taking the coffee cup from the table, but his expression softened. “You didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t even that bothered.”

“I know,” you mumbled, “but it felt like I should do something. To, you know, thank you.”

He took a sip, then paused, a playful look flashing across his face. “Coffee’s fine.” He took a sip.” What would you have done if I’d taken the hot chocolate?” He gave you a knowing smile. “I know you don’t drink coffee.”

Your stomach dropped for a moment, and you tried not to look as flustered as you felt. How did he even know that? “Wait—how did you...?”

Heeseung’s smile widened, leaning back in his chair like he’d just won something. “You didn’t think I’d notice? You tend to bring tea or hot chocolate to the office. No matter how late.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked away, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You hadn’t realized he’d paid that much attention. “I—well, I would’ve managed,” you replied, shrugging a little too nonchalantly. “But I’m glad you took the coffee because, yeah, I don’t like it.”

Heeseung chuckled, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than usual. “What, you were really going to choke it down just to make me feel better?”

You gave him a half-hearted glare. “I was trying to be nice, okay?”

His laughter softened, his expression turning more gentle. “Sure, the brave Y/N drinking coffee just for me.”

“Hey!”, you hit him softly and tried to ignore how warm your cheeks felt. You were praying that your foundation did its job properly today.

Heeseung grinned, and the atmosphere between you shifted slightly, the playful teasing replaced with something more sincere. “Well, thanks for the coffee,” he said, his voice softer now.

You glanced at Heeseung’s open book, his pages cluttered with scribbled notes and highlighted passages. “You’ve been here a while, huh?” you asked, leaning forward to peek at his notes, feeling guilty for distracting him.

Heeseung sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, midterms are killing me. I’ve been staring at this stuff for hours, but I swear, none of it’s sticking.”

You tilted your head, sympathizing. “I feel that. Econ made me want to throw my laptop out of my window yesterday and i had to resign to finish a episode of TWD. Are you done with the season?”

At that, Heeseung’s face brightened. “Oh, I finished the last episode last night. I swear i didn’t think—”

“If you spoil it, I will fight you,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him.

Heeseung burst into laughter, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, no spoilers! But seriously, you need to catch up soon. I want to know your reaction.”

You bit your lip, debating for a moment before offering, “Well... do you want to rewatch the last like 5 episodes? You could see my reactions in real time then?"

His eyes lit up at your suggestion, and you felt a flutter of excitement in your chest. “I’d love that! How about we do it tonight? I could whip up some snacks, and we can binge-watch the last few episodes.”

You hesitated, suddenly aware of how casual he was making it sound. “Uh, yeah, but only if we actually study before we watch. I have a few things I want to get done today.”

“Absolutely,” he agreed, nodding seriously, though a smile tugged at his lips.

The idea of going over to his place made your heart race a little faster. “Alright. Then I’ll see you later,” you said, glancing over at him once more, trying to ignore the warmth rising in your cheeks.

What was he thinking? Heeseung couldn’t believe himself. He had invited you over and casually mentioned he could whip up some snacks?

After his last class of the day, he raced into his dorm, the realization hitting him like two hours too late. Jake and Jay were sprawled across the dinner table with their books and laptops, completely oblivious to the chaos about to unfold. Heeseung nearly slammed the entrance door against the wall as he burst in. “Guys, I might have messed up!”

Jake blinked a few times, confusion etched across his face. “What happened?”

“I invited Y/N over to watch The Walking Dead,” he said, sliding off his coat. “And I told her I’d whip up some snacks. But our dorm is a disaster, and my room is even worse! She can’t come over!” Panic surged through him.

Jay stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the drama. “So you want us to speed clean so you can impress the coach’s daughter?”

“Yes!” Heeseung exclaimed, already kneeling down to pick up the shoes littering the entrance. “Please, help a guy out. I can’t let her see this place!”

“Sure,” Jake said with a chuckle, standing up and grabbing the takeout boxes scattered around him. “Our dorm needs a cleaning session anyway. And honestly, I’m so done with thermodynamics right now. If I see another heat transfer mode, I might bang my head into a wall hard enough to skip out the next semester. I am suffering.”

Jay joined in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll take the living room and vacuum. Hyung, just focus on your room. I think we have chips in the pantry, so just use that as a snack.”

“Jay, you’re a genius. Thank you,” Heeseung said, practically sprinting to his room.

Once inside, he was greeted by the mess that was his room: clothes sprawled across the floor, bed, and desk, a collection of empty water bottles. On top of that, his hockey gear is spread all haphazardly around the room - gloves, sticks, and bags. He immediately began tackling the mess, grabbing clothes, checking which ones were clean which needed to be folded and put away. He picked up a discarded hockey glove and tossed it into a corner before realizing he’d have to deal with the smell somehow.

By the time he emerged from his room, he felt a sense of accomplishment. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than what it had been. He glanced over at Jay, who was in the living room, vacuuming with an exaggerated flourish. Just that second the shrill noise of their doorbell pierced through the air. 

You stood in front of Heeseung’s dorm building, your gaze drifting up toward the tall, sleek structure. The place looked expensive—not surprising, given what you knew about his background. Heeseung’s parents were wealthy, and while you came from a comfortable home as well, this dorm definitely seemed a cut above.

As you approached the entrance, you felt a slight flutter of nerves you hadn’t expected. Pressing the elevator button for the twelfth floor, you shifted your weight onto your good leg, adjusting your crutches slightly. You didn’t really need your crutches anymore. Enough time has passed since your surgery for you to be able to walk only on your cast but you decided that going about your day and actually walking quite a bit was too much of a risk and took them with you anyway.

The ride up seemed to stretch on, giving you too much time to think. Over the past few weeks, you had grown used to Heeseung hanging out in your office, almost like it was his second home. Some days, he was already there when you finished your last class, quietly studying or taking notes. His presence had become a strange comfort, one that didn’t bother you. If anything, it helped you stay focused. But this—being invited into his space—felt like a new step, one that made your heart race a little. When you reached his door, you hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath. You could hear muffled voices and the sound of something being moved around inside. Whatever nervousness you felt, you quickly pushed it aside before ringing the doorbell.

The door swung open almost immediately, and there stood Heeseung, his warm, easy smile greeting you. Behind him, you could see Jake lounging in the kitchen and Jay standing nearby, holding a vacuum cleaner.

“Hi, Y/N!” Heeseung said, stepping aside to let you in, the others offering casual waves.

“Hey,” you replied, carefully stepping inside with your crutches. The moment you entered, your eyes quickly took in the space—it was neat. Really neat. Surprisingly neat for a guy’s dorm.

Heeseung must have noticed the slight lift of your eyebrows because he scratched the back of his neck, chuckling softly. “Yeah, uh… we did a little tidying up.”

“A little?” you echoed, amused as you glanced around again. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think your dorm would be this... organized.”

Before Heeseung could respond, Jake snorted from across the room, biting into a chip. “Yeah, sure. We always live this clean,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, earning a pointed side-eye from Heeseung.

You laughed, the sound easing the last bit of tension in the room. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like a dig. It’s just—well, I’ve seen my brother’s room?”

“You’re giving us too much credit,” Jay chimed in, leaning the vacuum against the wall.

Once you were in his room, you sat on the edge of the bed, noticing how tidy even his space was. The bed was made, his hockey gear wasn’t strewn everywhere like Sobbing usually is, and the usual hockey player smell was faint, replaced with something cleaner. You caught a subtle hint of Heeseung’s familiar cologne, woody but fresh.

You moved to sit on the bed but hesitated, leaning on your good leg. “Uh, mind if I sit? I don’t want to mess up your bed with my outside clothes.”

Heeseung waved it off with a casual shrug. “I don’t care about that. But if you’re worried about it, I can give you a pair of my joggers?”

You blinked, not really expecting that offer. “Oh... uh, are you sure?”

“Yeah, no big deal,” he said, already moving to his closet. He pulled out a pair of gray joggers and handed them to you with a smile. “Here, these should be comfy.”

You threw the joggers over your shoulder, feeling a bit strange but also kind of grateful. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

After changing in the bathroom, you returned, feeling a little more at ease wearing his clothes, knowing you wouldn't mess his bed up with your outside clothing. You did care about that. The joggers hung low on your hips, the waistband slightly too big, but they were warm and comfortable. When you sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, Heeseung flopped down next to you, pulling out his iPad. “Alright, let’s get some studying done before we watch anything, or I’ll never hear the end of it.” You laughed, pulling out your own notes, though your focus was already wandering. The smell of his freshly laundered sheets, mixed with his subtle cologne and aftershave, was distracting you almost as much as his presence next to you.

For the next hour, you both settled into study mode. Heeseung was focused on his music theory notes, occasionally mumbling something about chord progressions or sound mixing, while you tried—really tried—to get through corporate governance. But after what felt like an eternity, your brain was officially fried. With a frustrated sigh, you tossed your notebook aside. “This is impossible. I need help with this. Do you think Jay’s busy?”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “He’s probably still studying in the living room.”

You huffed and slid off the bed and made your way into the living room, where Jay was still hunched over his books. Jake had his headphones on, seemingly lost in his own world of equations.

“Hey, Jay, can you help me with something? Corporate governance is killing me,” you asked, sliding into the seat beside him.

Jay looked up, grinning. “Sure thing. What part are you stuck on?”

What was supposed to be a quick five-minute explanation stretched into ten, then fifteen. You had the gift to ask the right question to make everyone insecure in their explanations and answers and now Jay and you were confused. Great.

Eventually, you noticed Heeseung joining you. “You guys still going at it?” he asked, pulling up a chair next to you. “We’re just about done,” Jay said, pushing his notes aside.

Heeseung laughed. He settled in, flipping through his book, and soon enough, all four of you were studying together at the dinner table. It was surprisingly productive.

After a while, though, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms. “Okay, I’m officially done. My brain can’t take any more.”

Heeseung set his book aside, looking just as exhausted. “Same here. Ready for some TWD?”

You nodded eagerly, feeling that familiar excitement bubble up again. As much as you tried to play it cool, you’d been looking forward to this part all day. Annoying Lia during your shared class and Beomguy during your break about how excited you were.

Back in his room, you climbed onto the bed again, this time letting yourself sink fully into the pillows and pulling the blanket over yourself. As you did, you caught that same scent of Heeseung’s cologne again. The coolness of the evening was creeping in, and without thinking, you shifted closer to Heeseung, stealing a little more of the blanket. He glanced at you with a small smile but didn’t say anything, his focus returning to the screen.

Heeseung shifted slightly on the bed, stretching his legs as the second episode ended. He turned his head to ask you if you wanted to start another one, but when he glanced over, his breath hitched.

You were fast asleep.

For a moment, Heeseung just stared, not quite sure what to do. You had curled up against the pillows, still wrapped in his blanket, one arm tucked under your head. His heart skipped a beat.

You looked so peaceful. He didn’t want to move or make any noise that might wake you. Heeseung swallowed nervously and tugged at his own shirt collar, feeling a little too aware of everything suddenly—his breathing, the quiet hum of the room, the weight of the blanket. What was he supposed to do? Wake you up? Ask if you wanted to go back home? In a flash of pure panic, he grabbed his phone and opened up a text to Soobin.

Heeseung Hey man, Y/N fell asleep at my place. Is it cool if she stays over? I don’t want to wake her up.

Heeseung bit his lip, waiting for a reply, his eyes darting between the screen and your sleeping form. You looked so calm, your breathing steady, you looked so soft. It made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t quite understand. He wasn’t used to this, if he had girls over it wasn’t for watching TV Shows, nor did they just fall asleep. 

A soft buzz broke his thoughts as Soobin replied.

Soobin Hyung (New) She’s an adult, dude. I’ll let my parents know she’s sleeping over, though. Just tell her she owes me for covering for her.

Heeseung exhaled a sigh of relief, slumping back against the headboard. At least he didn’t have to deal with the wrath of an angry captain tonight. He stared at your peaceful face again, and a small smile tugged at his lips. You really were out cold. Carefully, he shifted closer, trying to tuck the blanket more securely around you without disturbing your sleep. He sent a quick thank you text to Soobin.

Heeseung tried to get comfortable, though he couldn’t ignore the fact that his heart was beating a little faster than usual. He was overthinking every tiny movement, wondering if shifting just a little might accidentally wake you up. Glancing over at you, the rise and fall of your chest was slow and steady, and he felt that strange, unfamiliar warmth in his chest again. He had no idea what to do with it. You were just there, peacefully sleeping, wrapped in his blanket, wearing his joggers, and somehow that made the moment feel more significant than it should. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. You were off limits. He shifted a little closer to the edge of the bed, carefully trying to give you more space without disturbing you. His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it, worried that it might be your brother again, but when he checked, it was just a message from Jake into their groupchat.

Puckin' Legends and Sunghoon  Jakey Jakey So? How’s the TV date going hyung Jeongsongie You owe us for cleaning the dorm in record speed. I dont think i ever vacuumed so quickly? Heeseung She fell asleep??  She is so cute tho But thanks for the help. Dorm looks way better now. And don’t call it a TV date?? We were literally studying before this.

He didn’t really mind the teasing—not anymore. At first, when they’d made comments about him spending a bit too much time with the coaches daughter, he’d felt awkward. But now, with you lying beside him, snuggled up under his blanket, he couldn’t bring himself to care. His phone buzzed again.

Hoon I still cannot believe you try to bag your coaches daughter. Jakey Jakey I don’t think the coach can believe it either Jeongsongie I cant believe how gone he is for her??? Did anyone read the she is so cute????

Heeseung rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, setting his phone down without replying. He wasn’t about to engage in that conversation right now. The soft light from the TV illuminated your face just enough for him to see. The way you’d tucked your hand under your cheek, your hair falling slightly over your face—it was… cute. His mind wandered back to earlier, to the way you’d laughed at his teasing or the look of concentration on your face while studying. You had a way of being fully in the moment, and it made him want to stay in those moments with you for as long as possible.

Heeseung closed his eyes, knowing that sleep wasn’t going to come easy, not when his brain was buzzing with thoughts of you. He took one more look at you, tucked under his blanket, your crutches leaning against the wall in the corner of his room. 

You stirred awake, the room dark except for the dim glow of the TV screen that had long since gone idle, casting soft shadows around you. It took a second to remember where you were: Heeseung’s room. His bed. The blanket wrapped around you wasn’t yours. For a split second, panic rose—shit. You fell asleep in Heeseung’s bed? What time was it? How long had you been out? You turned slightly, glancing at Heeseung. He was still sitting next to you, back against the headboard, his eyes closed. You wondered if he had fallen asleep too. Rubbing your face in exhaustion, you felt a rush of embarrassment. This was the first time you were ever over at his place, and you had fallen asleep? Well done, Y/N. Truly.

Glancing at his dimly glowing alarm clock, you realized it was way past midnight. You tried shifting slightly, hoping to find a more comfortable position, but your leg wasn’t cooperating. Every attempt to adjust it left you either more uncomfortable or closer to waking Heeseung. Eventually, you gave in, trying to reposition your injured leg one last time. However, the slight rustling of the blanket stirred Heeseung beside you, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, he looked confused, as if he’d forgotten where he was too.

“Y/N?” His voice was low and heavy with sleep, but still warm. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on you. “You okay?”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty for waking him. “Yeah, sorry. My leg just… won’t get comfortable.”

He shifted beside you, rubbing his eyes. His hair was messier now, and his face carried the remnants of sleep. “Want me to help? Or… do you need a pillow or something?”

You shook your head, adjusting the blanket around you. “No, it’s fine.”

His expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Now I know why you need half an eternity to finish the season. You knocked out pretty hard after just two episodes,” he said softly, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

You laughed quietly, feeling a little embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess I did. Sorry about that.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice warm. “I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed really comfortable.” Comfortable. You were. Too comfortable, honestly. You glanced down at the blanket wrapped tightly around you, feeling a strange warmth in your chest.

“Did I miss much?” you asked, your voice still quiet.

“Nah, just the end of the episode,” Heeseung replied, glancing at the TV. “You didn’t miss anything important. I was going to ask if you wanted to watch another one, but, uh…”

“But I was out cold,” you finished for him, chuckling.

“Exactly.”

There was a pause, a soft, almost peaceful silence hanging between you. You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to leave the comfort of his bed, his blanket, or this moment. You could feel his presence next to you, his arm brushing yours slightly as you both sat there. “So…” you began, hesitating for a moment. “I should probably get going.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything right away. He shifted slightly, and you thought you caught a flicker of something in his expression, but it was gone too quickly to tell.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his voice careful. “I mean, if you’re comfortable here, it’s late… Also, Soobin’s got you covered. He said your parents will survive you crashing here for the night.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You texted Soobin?”

Heeseung’s smile was sheepish. “I didn’t want your parents to freak out when you didn’t show up. So yeah, I let him know. He said you’re an adult but added that he’d let them know you’re safe.”

You sighed, a mix of gratitude and amusement rising in your chest. “Thanks, Heeseung. Really.”

He shrugged, his easy smile still in place. “Anytime. I just figured I should let someone know.”

You began to move out of your blanket burrito,”I’ll migrate to the sofa then! I don’t want to hog your bed. You have training tomorrow and you should get some proper sleep before then!”

His gaze shifted to you, a little more serious now. “Hell no. If you’re gonna stay, you are going to sleep here. If you feel uncomfortable I can go to the sofa.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his casual offer. “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed,” you protested, even as part of you was tempted.

Heeseung tilted his head, his eyes soft and teasing. “Then I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Just scoot over, and I’ll lie down too. We can both be comfortable.”

A beat of silence passed as you considered it, but then you nodded, scooting over to give him room. Your heart pounded just a little harder as you adjusted yourself, settling more comfortably against the pillows. Heeseung shifted too, lying down on his side, facing you. The bed suddenly felt smaller than it had moments ago, the space between you somehow feeling both large and almost nonexistent.

“Better?” he asked, his voice soft as he looked at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. Much better.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You found yourself more aware of everything—the blanket, the smell of Heeseung’s cologne lingering in the air, and the soft, even rhythm of his breathing.

“Good,” Heeseung murmured, his eyes closing again.“Just… wake me up if you need anything, okay?”

You smiled softly, watching as his breathing slowed, his expression relaxed as sleep pulled him back under. It was strange, this feeling of being so comfortable, of having someone care enough to make sure you were okay. You could not believe what was happening right now but you were also too tired to think about it right now. So you just closed your eyes again, the weight of the day and the warmth of the moment making it easier to drift off. And as sleep began to claim you once more, you felt a quiet contentment settle in your chest. 

The sun was barely beginning to rise as Heeseung wiped the sweat off his brow, the air in the rink still heavy with the lingering chill of the early morning. Their training session had just wrapped up, and the team was scattered around the locker room, chatting and peeling off their gear. Heeseung sat on a bench, untying his skates when he felt someone approach.

“Soobin.” Heeseung looked up, surprised to see your older brother standing in front of him with a serious expression.

“We need to talk,” Soobin said, his tone calm but firm. Heeseung immediately sensed that something was up and he straightened up, suddenly more alert. Soobin didn’t usually pull him aside like this, and the shift in his demeanor was hard to miss. Heeseung’s heart rate quickened, but he kept his face neutral, unsure of where this conversation was going. He stood, following Soobin outside to a quieter part of the rink, away from the rest of the team.

Once they were alone, Soobin crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly as he met Heeseung’s gaze. “You're gonna tell me what’s going on between you and Y/N?” Soobin asked, voice stern but not hostile.

The question hit Heeseung like a puck to the chest (pun intended), and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. Scratch that he knew what he wanted to say but saying it out loud made it too real.

He thought about the evenings spent in your office, long after practice had ended, when the rink was quiet, and it was just the two of you. Most nights, it started with something simple—you finishing up work while he lingered, not really wanting to go back to the dorm. You would end up on the sofa in your office, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

He could picture how you would sit, your back nestled into the corner of the sofa, one knee pulled up to your chest while the other, still recovering, rested comfortably across his lap. You were so casual about it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to drape your leg over him like that. And somehow, it was. You would chat for hours sometimes, and he found himself looking forward to those nights more than he ever admitted. Seeing the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something, or the way your lips quirked into a small smile when you said something you thought was clever. There was a comfort between the two of you that made everything else fade into the background.

On days where your physiotherapist, whom you claim to love with all of your heart, went a bit harder on you leaving you exhausted and in pain he would be trying his best to cheer you up a bit. You never complained but he could tell. Your leg would stiffen up, and you would move with a slight limp, your jaw tight as you tried to brush it off like it was nothing. He remembered the first time he noticed it—how you had tried to hide the discomfort, laughing off his concern with some joke about how you have “had worse.” Without thinking, he had reached out and placed his hand on your leg, gently massaging the tense muscles. You hadn’t said anything at first, but you didn’t pull away either. Instead, you had leaned back into the cushions, closing your eyes for a brief moment, as if allowing yourself to relax in his presence.

That morning, when he got up for training, you had still been there, your hair spilling over the pillow in soft waves. He had whispered for you to stay, to sleep in and leave whenever you wanted, and a small part of him had hoped that when he returned, you’d still be in his bed.

Soobin waited, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Heeseung, don’t make me ask twice.”

But what was he supposed to say to Soobin? You were his sister. He couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing, especially not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.

“Nothing’s going on,” Heeseung replied, though even as he said it, he knew it sounded weak. “I mean, we’re friends.”

Soobin’s jaw clenched, clearly unsatisfied. "Friends, huh? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like there’s more to it than just being friends. And don’t give me that ‘nothing’s going on’ line. I’m not stupid, Heeseung."

Heeseung swallowed. Soobin wasn’t the kind of guy to be brushed off easily. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his damp hair. “I…” He started, his voice a little shaky, but he forced himself to meet Soobin’s eyes. “I think I like her. A lot, actually.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed, and Heeseung felt his heart rate spiking. “You think? Or you know?”

“I know,” Heeseung admitted, his voice more certain now. “I like her more than just a friend, Soobin. I’ve liked her for a while. It’s not just…” He paused, searching for the right words, trying to explain how he felt about you. “It’s not just some fling or whatever. It’s… more. Or at least for me it is.”

There. He’d said it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before—how his feelings for you had slowly shifted, deepening with each shared moment, every lingering glance, every time he found himself thinking about you when he wasn’t supposed to. But saying it out loud and not just gushing to his friends about you made it real in a way that he wasn’t fully prepared for.

Soobin stayed silent for a long moment, his gaze hard but thoughtful. Heeseung’s stomach twisted. But when Soobin spoke again, his voice was calmer, though still edged with that protective tone.

“Look, I get it,” Soobin said slowly, his gaze locked on Heeseung’s. “Y/N… she’s been through a lot. You know that. The last thing she needs is someone messing with her heart. So if you’re not serious about her, if you’re just playing around or you’re not sure what you want, you need to back off. Because if you hurt her, Heeseung… I swear—”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Heeseung interrupted, his voice firm, surprising even himself with the certainty of his own words. “I would never do that, Soobin.”, his chest tightening at the thought of hurting you. “I wouldn’t. I won’t. I just… I don’t want to complicate things for her. But I can’t help how I feel.”

Soobin stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing the truth of his words. Finally, he let out a small sigh, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. “I believe you,” he said, though there was still a note of caution in his tone. “But I’m warning you—if you break her heart, you’ll answer to me.”

Heeseung nodded, knowing that Soobin meant every word. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed, if he were in Soobin’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing.

As Soobin walked back toward the locker room, Heeseung let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

With a sigh, Heeseung headed back inside, his skates dangling loosely from his fingers. As he stepped into the locker room, his mind wandered back to his dorm. He wondered if you were still there, still curled up in his bed like you had been when he left. You were probably already gone, but a small part of him hoped you were still there.

“A little bird told me you didn’t return home last night,” Beomgyu teased as he plopped down into the empty seat next to you in the library, dropping his hockey gear with a soft thud. He had no trouble finding you among the maze of bookshelves and antique paintings - you were in your usual spot, struggling through an international law essay. You looked up and sighed, already bracing yourself for his relentless teasing.

“I didn’t,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “Did that little bird also tell you I fell asleep after studying and watching, like, one and a half episodes of The Walking Dead? Or did he conveniently forget to mention that part?” You knew exactly who the “little bird” was—your brother.

“He did mention that, actually,” Beomgyu smirked, shaking his damp hair free from his hat. “But I have to say, I’m a little disappointed.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice dramatically. “You had the perfect opportunity to get something going with,” he paused for effect, “a hot guy that Yeonjun hyung, Soobin hyung, and I fully approve of—and you did nothing? And don’t give me the ‘I’m not interested in Heeseung’ excuse. I know all about your little evening sessions in your office.”

Your face heated up at the mention of Heeseung, but you quickly dismissed it. “We’re just friends, Gyu. Friends,” you emphasized. “When he comes to my office, we’re actually studying. It’s peaceful there, no one interrupts us.” You crossed your arms, trying to hide the sudden, unwelcome flutter in your chest.

“Sure, sure,” Beomgyu grinned, clearly not buying it. “But you slept over. That’s new.”

You sighed, glancing back at your laptop. “I slept over because I fell asleep. He had to get up early for practice, so he let me sleep in. When I woke up, he was already gone. It was no big deal.” You said it like you were reminding yourself more than Beomgyu—because it wasn’t a big deal, right? You were just comfortable around Heeseung. That’s all.

“Uh-huh. Sure, it wasn’t a big deal,” Beomgyu leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. “Jake and Jay weren’t exactly quiet about it during practice this morning. And now the entire team, including your dad, knows about your ‘sleepover.’ Your dad wasn’t thrilled, by the way. Might want to prepare for an awkward conversation later.”

You groaned, letting your head fall onto the old wooden desk with a soft thud. “Of course he’d freak out. How is he so worried about me being lonely but still loses his shit whenever I’m near a guy?” You turned your head to the side, pouting.

Beomgyu patted your head sympathetically. “Your dad’s a scary guy. I can’t help you there. But seriously, are you sure you’re not into Heeseung?”

You straightened up, an annoyed huff escaping your lips. “I’m not interested in Heeseung like that,” you insisted, though your mind betrayed you with memories of how you’d felt waking up in his bed this morning. The way the sheets still held his warmth, how his cologne lingered faintly in the air... But no. It wasn’t like that. You had just fallen asleep while watching TV, that’s all. It wasn’t a date. Just two friends watching a show, nothing more.

Beomgyu wasn’t buying it. “I’m just saying, you spend a lot of time with him. Almost every other night, actually. And don’t even get me started on the way he naps in your office all the time. That sofa is supposed to be my personal napping spot.”

“I mean, first come, first serve,” you shot back, forcing a lighthearted tone. “Yeonjun’s slept on that couch plenty of times too.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see you staying over at Yeonjun’s place,” Beomgyu countered with a sly grin. “Face it, you’re into Heeseung.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but inside, his words echoed. You and Heeseung had gotten close, yes. Maybe closer than you’d expected. But that didn’t mean anything, right? You were just... comfortable around him. There was nothing more to it.

“Gyu, I’m really not interested in dating right now,” you said, turning back to your laptop in an attempt to end the conversation. “I just want to get this essay done. Jay and Lia asked me to proofread theirs, and I won’t have time if I don’t finish today.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair dramatically. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. But I’m keeping an eye on you two.”

“Oh no, I’m so scared,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Now, can I please focus on this essay?”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over. I’m just getting started.” You managed to ignore Beomgyu’s incessant teasing for a while, but the fluttering thoughts about Heeseung kept creeping back in, much to your annoyance. It was like a small nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering things you didn’t want to hear. Things like how nice it was that he let you stay in his bed, how considerate it was of him to slip out quietly in the morning so you could sleep in, and how warm his side of the bed had felt when you rolled over into it. Stop it, you mentally scolded yourself.

It didn’t mean anything.

Right?

Nope. No. Stop. You shook your head slightly, forcing yourself to focus. You had way too much going on to be distracted by feelings—or whatever this was. The coming weeks were packed with deadlines, presentations, and a social media campaign for the team that was eating up all your free time. Not to mention the upcoming games, which meant more PR work for you. You didn’t have time to analyze whatever was happening between you and Heeseung. Not that there was anything to analyze.

The final whistle echoed through the arena, and you were still trying to process what had just happened. Heeseung had scored the winning goal - on his birthday, no less. The crowd roared, players rushed onto the ice, and you could barely keep your camera steady as you captured the celebrations for the team’s social media. But your thoughts were still stuck on the way Heeseung had glanced up into the stands after scoring. Pointing at you. Dedicating the goal to technically the teams fans. He’d joked with you before the game that it would be perfect PR if the “birthday boy” scored the winning goal. 

You stood in front of the changing rooms, waiting for the boys to finish up after the game. The arena was still buzzing from the victory—Heeseung’s last-second, game-winning goal had the whole place on fire. You could hear the muffled celebrations from behind the door, the players’ laughter and shouts of excitement as they reveled in their win.

You leaned against the wall, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone as you waited for them to emerge. But before you could even think about your next move, the door to the changing room swung open, and Beomgyu poked his head out.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his grin as mischievous as ever. “Come on, get in here!”

Before you could protest, he gently pushed you into the locker room. The smell of sweat hit you all at once, and the noise of the players’ post-game celebrations was deafening. The boys were in various stages of undress—some half-naked, some wrapped in towels, others already pulling on their post-game clothes. You hesitated at the entrance, suddenly feeling a little out of place.

“Uh, I’m not really supposed to be in here -” you started, but Beomgyu waved you off.

“Nonsense! You’re part of the team too,” he said, nudging you further inside. “Besides, someone’s gotta document Heeseung’s birthday win for the fans, right?”

You smiled at his enthusiasm, but your attention was quickly diverted to Heeseung himself, who was standing by his locker, shirtless, toweling off his hair. Your eyes involuntarily scanned over him, taking in the toned muscles of his chest, the curve of his collarbones, the way the light from the overhead lamps cast soft shadows across his skin. He was talking to one of the other players, a relaxed smile on his face, but you couldn’t help but be distracted by the way his shoulders flexed as he moved, the muscles in his back rippling as he dried off. Fuck. You caught yourself staring and quickly averted your gaze, your face growing warm. Get a grip, you scolded yourself.

“Watch out Y/N. You are about to drool.” Beomgyu teased, suddenly reappearing at your side. His grin was knowing, and you could tell he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had lingered on Heeseung.

“Shut up,” you muttered, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. Beomgyu just chuckled. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was still racing. You glanced back at Heeseung, only to find that he was already looking at you. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. The noise of the locker room, the boys’ laughter, even Beomgyu’s teasing all became background noise as you held his gaze. There was something in the way he was looking at you, something warm and intense that made your breath catch.

A slow, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of Heeseung’s lips, and you felt your stomach flip again. You suddenly felt like you couldn’t stand still, like you needed to move, do something to break the intensity of the moment. But before you could, Heeseung looked away, returning to his conversation with a teammate, breaking eye contact.

After a while, the players finished up and started getting dressed, and you slipped out of the changing room, glad to have a moment to collect yourself. The victory high carried on as the team headed to a nearby bar to celebrate. You tagged along—PR duties and all. Your original plan was to go back to your and Soobins Hotel room to study a bit but Yeonjun threatened to spoil the end of Prison Break if you wouldn’t tag along. That and the fact that Heeseung had his arms around your shoulder in such an aggravating casual way as soon as he came out of the locker and was pouting when you told him about your study plans was pretty convincing. Heeseung kept finding excuses to be near you even after you left the rink. Every time you looked up, he was there—handing you a drink, making a joke, his arm bushing yours as he leaned in to talk.

You found yourself glancing at him more often, watching the way his lips curved when he laughed, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. But every time you tried to be subtle about it, you’d catch him already looking at you, making your pulse quicken and your cheeks rosy red. He would lower his head slightly, his eyes being hidden behind his hair and smirking at you until you couldn't take it any longer and the intense broke eye contact, blushing like a little school girl. 

You were sitting at a booth with some of the players when Beomgyu sidled up to you, a mischievous grin already in place.

“So… birthday boy scores the winning goal and dedicates it to you? That’s a bit more than a coincidence, don’t you think?” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off. “It was just a joke, Beomgyu. Heeseung was dedicating it to the fans, not me.” You were praying that the noise around you was loud enough for Soobin, Yeonjun and Jay to not hear what the two of you were talking about.

Beomgyu leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just a joke.”

Your face flushed, warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re in denial,” he shot back, leaning back in his seat and giving you a smug look. “I’m just saying - maybe it’s time to stop pretending.”

You tried to brush it off, but his words lingered. You have been telling yourself that you were imagining things and that you were a bit delusional when thinking about Heeseung - not talking, hell your friends cannot know about your little crush - but maybe just maybe did Beomgyu have a point.  

Heeseung slid in next to you, and immediately, you felt the heat of his body radiating toward you. He was so close, not closer than usual, but you could smell the faint hint of his cologne—something warm and woodsy that made your head swim a little. You liked it a little too much, and you had to fight the urge to lean in closer, to let yourself get lost in the warmth of his presence. Like you have done on his bed plenty of times in the last weeks during your strictly friendly studying-and-binge-watching-not-dates-dates that sometimes turn into sleepovers. (Yes, you have your own toothbrush at his place and a designated set of PJs. And yes, in hindsight you are a lost causes and Beomgyu has been right about everything but you would never tell him that.)

As you sipped your drink, trying to keep your thoughts in check, Soobin’s gaze was on you, watchful and a little too knowing. You could feel his eyes darting between you and Heeseung. It made you even more self-conscious, and you prayed Heeseung didn’t notice. When Heeseung put one of his hands on your thigh while talking, Soobin looked like he was ready to punch his captain in the face. Yeonjun shot Soobin a look and discreetly elbowed him in the ribs.

“Relax, man,” he muttered under his breath, though you heard it clearly.

You silently thanked Yeonjun for the intervention, but you still couldn’t shake the nervous energy building up inside you. You kept your focus on the conversation, laughing along with the others, but the whole time, all you could think about was the way Heeseung’s leg was pressed against yours under the table, the steady heat of his body next to you, his hand on your thigh and his thumb that started caressing it slightly. The skin under his hand was tingling.

The way back to your hotel felt significantly longer than the way there. You were busy giggling  together with Jake about a dumb joke Jay made while walking rather slowly towards your hotel. Having had one or two drinks while relying on crutches may have not been the best idea.

“I don’t want to go to sleep yet,” you pouted as you squeezed into the elevator with the others, leaning your head against Jay’s shoulder. Heeseung and Jake swayed as they stepped into the cramped space, followed by a few of the other players and their girlfriends.

“I swear I am out as soon as my head hits the pillow”, Jay yawned and patted your head causing you to giggle.

You giggled. “Ohhh,” you teased, fake pouting, “you didn’t get your nap today! Poor Jay must be exhausted.”

“Ha, ha,” Jay replied dryly, grabbing Jake’s arm as the latter swayed dangerously. “Might I remind you that I played a phenomenal game today? That’s exhausting, you know.”

“Sure, Park,” you said with mock seriousness, lips pursed as you nodded.

At your floor, you bid the boys a quick goodnight and shuffled toward your room. Inside, Soobin was standing in the middle of the room clad in nothing but boxer shorts, toothbrush in hand, his mouth full of foam. He turned to you with a confused expression.

“Whaf are you doin’ hewe?” he mumbled around his toothbrush, his words muffled as foam threatened to dribble from the corner of his lips.

“What do you mean?” you asked, flopping onto your bed and ignoring the fact that you were still wearing your outside clothing “We’re sharing this room, remember?”

Soobin rolled his eyes and ducked into the bathroom, his voice muffled as he spit into the sink. “Yeah, but I thought you were going to give Hee his present?”

You blinked, sitting up. “Oh. I was thinking I’d do it tomorrow or maybe next week. Didn’t want to give it to him in front of everyone.”

Soobin emerged from the bathroom, drying his face with a towel, water droplets scattered across his chest and shoulders. “No. Do it today. It’s his birthday. I’m sure he’d appreciate some one-on-one time with you.”

You froze for a second. You weren’t entirely sure how Soobin was thinking about whatever was going on between you and his friend and captain, but you hadn’t expected him to ask about Heesung. Especially after the glare he had sent Heeseung’s way at the bar. “I mean, I already talked to him and said happy birthday…” you muttered, trying to brush it off.

“Y/N.” Soobin said flatly, crossing his arms, “Go downstairs and give him your present and spend some time with him. You have my official blessing. Just be careful.”

“I-You-What?”, you gawked at him,, feeling your face flush.

“Do you really think i am that stupid?”, Soobin asked with a shake of his head, grinning at you, “You look at him the same way you did look at your Taemin poster. All heart eyes. It's almost embarrassing.”

Your jaw dropped as his words sank in, your face now fully flushed. “Soobin, that’s not—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, tossing the towel onto a chair, “just go.”

Ten minutes later you found yourself standing in front of Heeseungs hotel room door, your heart pounding in your chest as you worked up the nerve to knock. When he opened the door, already clad in his pyjama pants only, his hair messy, his eyes widened in surprise, but a slow smile spread across his face.

“Y/N,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. “What’s up?” You held out the small box in your hands, feeling a bit shy and honestly still a bit embarrassed. You did not give Heeseung herat eyes. Those were for Taemin and Taemin only. “I, uh, got you something. For your birthday.” You were looking into his face and tried to ignore that he was standing there half naked.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said softly, but he was already reaching for the gift.

“Just open it,” you insisted, your heart beating faster as you watched him unwrap the small package.

“Come in first.”, he ushered you inside and closed the door behind you.

Heeseung’s fingers carefully peeled away the colorful wrapper, his eyes flickering between you and the small box in his hands. He laughed slightly when he saw the packaging and you couldn’t help but smile. He was holding a Sonny Angel dinosaur special edition box you had Soobin buy a few days earlier when he went to the mall. When Heeseung finally opened up the small plastic bag and revealed the figurine inside, his eyes widened in disbelief. It was the red dinosaur.

“No way,” he breathed, turning the figure over in his hands, a wide grin breaking across his face. “Is this the one you wanted?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice soft. “I’ve been trying to get it forever, but I guess it was meant for you.” Heeseung’s eyes lit up, but he didn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at the small figure, his smile never fading. Then, his gaze lifted to meet yours. The way he looked at you had your heart racing in a concerning way.

“I offer one red dinosaur for a pink one. This one fits you better anyway. And the pink one would have a cozy home in my locker.” he said, his voice low.

You just laughed softly and nodded, “Sure scary captain. It will be honored to live in your stinky locker.” The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the warmth in his eyes.

Over the past two months, you’d come to realize that yes, Heeseung was undeniably hot and effortlessly charming, but there was something about him with messy hair and a sleepy smile that completely stole your heart.

“Thank you,” he said, breaking the silence, his voice still soft. “Really, this is... it means a lot.”

You smiled, trying to steady your heartbeat. “You’re welcome,” you breathed out.

Heeseung set the figure on the nightstand beside his bed, then turned back to you, his gaze lingering on your face. “I still can’t believe you got me the dinosaur,” he said, his voice a little lighter now, though his eyes were still on you, unreadable but intense.

You chuckled, trying to shake off the nerves fluttering in your stomach. “I had no idea it was in there,” you admitted, glancing at the little red figure on his nightstand. “But I’m glad it was. Birthday luck, I guess.”

Heeseung nodded, his smile softening. “Yeah, I guess so.” He hesitated for a moment, then shifted on the bed, patting the space next to him. “Wanna sit? I’ll put on Prison Break.”

You blinked, feeling your heartbeat pick up again, but you nodded, moving to sit beside him on the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours as he grabbed the remote and queued up an episode.

As the show began to play, you tried to focus on the screen, but it was hard with Heeseung so close. His arm brushed against yours as he settled in, and the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air between you. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but the heat radiating from him was impossible to ignore, your skin tingling wherever you felt his presence.

Your heart thudded in your chest, and as the minutes passed, you felt yourself relax just slightly, letting the comforting hum of the TV and the warmth of Heeseung beside you lull you into a calm state. You tried to focus on the show, but your mind kept drifting back to him. The longer you sat there, the more aware you became of just how close he was, has been the whole evening. His thigh and arm was touching yours, you could feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest with every breath. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the way his features softened in the dim light, his attention half on the screen and half... somewhere else.

Just then, he turned his head, his eyes meeting yours, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. For a moment, neither of you moved.

Your pulse quickened as his gaze flickered down to your lips for just a second, then back up to your eyes again. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry, your heart pounding in your chest. Heeseung’s lips parted as if he was about to say something, but the words never came. Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. The only sound in the room was the faint murmur of the TV in the background, but even that felt distant now, drowned out by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Your breath hitched in your throat as Heeseung shifted again, just slightly, his knee brushing against yours under the blanket to reach up and tuck one of your hair strands that fell out of your braid behind your ear. His hand grazed your cheek slightly and you were sure he could not only see but also feel how warm your face grew under his intense gaze.

The moment stretched on, the air thick with tension, and for a second, you were sure he would lean down and kiss you. But instead of closing the distance, he just smiled—soft, almost teasing—and turned his attention back to the screen.

You blinked, trying to calm yourself, not sure if you were just imagining things or not. You nodded slightly, attempting to focus on the show again, but your thoughts still whirled, your heartbeat loud in your ears. Minutes passed, and slowly, you began to feel tired. The weight of the day—watching the game, the excitement of the win, the celebration afterward—began to settle in. You could feel your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Your head involuntarily tilted toward Heeseung, resting lightly against his shoulder. You froze for a moment, worried you’d overstepped, but he didn’t move or say anything. Instead, he shifted around a bit. His arm was now fully pressed against yours, and the quiet rise and fall of his chest was soothing.

You let out a small breath, letting your body relax, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. The steady sound of the TV mixed with the warmth of Heeseung beside you, lulling you into a daze. You could hear the faint murmur of the characters on screen, but your focus was completely on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the comforting thrum of his presence beside you.

Just as your eyes fluttered shut, you felt Heeseung shift again, his arm lifting slightly, as if hesitating. Then, gently, his arm rested behind you on the bed, his hand barely brushing your shoulder. And as you drifted further into sleep, your head nestled against his chest, the last thing you felt was Heeseung’s fingers gently brushing the edge of your arm. Yeah. Beomgyu was definitely right. This might be more than just a little crush.

The night had already been one big adrenaline rush. It was the final day of the midterms week and Heeseung and his teammates had just won another game earlier in the evening, so the hockey team came into the swimming team’s Halloween party riding the high of their victory.

Heeseung wasn’t usually the frat party type, but after a win, he didn’t mind letting loose a little. He had already knocked back a couple of drinks with his teammates, and the tipsy warmth was settling in his body. He mingled with the crowd, greeting friends and teammates, celebrating their victory. Jeongin had been bragging about his game-winning goal to anyone who would listen, while Jake and Jay were deep in conversation with some girls dressed as cats. Heeseung had been enjoying himself too, wandering around, chatting here and there.

But then he saw you.

You weren’t hard to spot—how could you be when you were dressed like that? Heeseung blinked, not sure if it was the alcohol, the lighting, or maybe a mix of both, but you looked... really good. No, scratch that, you looked hot. You were wearing a vampire costume that hugged your curves in ways he’d never quite allowed him to notice before. The dark lipstick and fake fangs were surprisingly fitting, and the way the red fabric of your dress shimmered under the lights made it hard not to stare.

The crowd shifted, and suddenly you were right in front of him, your face lighting up in drunken enthusiasm as soon as you recognized him. "Heeseung!" you called out, stumbling a little as you reached him.

He grabbed your elbow instinctively, steadying you. His hand lingered a moment longer than necessary. “Hey, careful.”, he laughed and then realized something, “You’re not using your crutches?”

You grinned, tipsy and a little wobbly. “My physio human,” you slurred, “said I could start walking a few days ago! Isn’t that awesome?”

Heeseung blinked, feeling a little hurt that you hadn’t mentioned this to him. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t wanna jinx it!” you said, giggling like it was no big deal. “I’ve been walking at home but didn’t wanna try it in public until I was more confident. And look! I’m walking! No crutches, baby!”

Heeseung couldn’t help the way his heart clenched. He should’ve been excited for you, but a part of him was bothered. Why hadn’t you shared this with him? You spent so much time together lately, and yet, this felt like something important he should’ve known. You were practically glowing with excitement, your face flushed from the alcohol, and the way you kept swaying made him nervous.

“Just… be careful, okay?” Heeseung said, his voice softer than he intended, the sting in his chest dissipating when he saw how genuinely happy you were.

You leaned closer your face dangerously close to his, the warmth of your breath brushing his cheek, “I promise! Look, I’m a vampire now! I’m unstoppable!” You twirled, your dress swirling around you, and Heeseung couldn’t help but smile despite the growing tension in his chest. His gaze followed your every movement. The red dress clung to your body in ways that felt unfair, making his thoughts wander into a dangerous direction. But he quickly pushed the thought away.

“Yeah, but even vampires need to be careful,” he replied, teasingly.

Before he could say anything more, a rowdy group called for a beer pong game, and you were swept away in the chaos, your laughter trailing behind you. Heeseung watched as you joined the game, the way you threw your head back in laughter. It was impossible for him to look away, but Jay came up to him holding a bottle of Malibu, saying something about needing alcohol for a confidence boost.

After the two of them finished the bottle and won a game of beerpong against some cheerleaders, Heeseung stepped away from the crowd to get some air, letting the noise fade into the background as he sat down next to Mark Lee onto one of the many chairs in the yard. He needed a moment to breathe and gather his thoughts and was glad that Mark was apparently sleeping. He did check if he was breathing, just in case. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good you looked, how much he wanted to kiss you. The way you layed there, eyes big, lips slightly parted and looking so so soft. It hasn’t left his thoughts all week. Every time you came close to him today, you cupped his face in your hands to speak into his ear, your proximity sending his emotions spiraling. His hand would instinctively settle on your hip or the back of your neck. One wrong move and he knew he’d lose all control, closing the small distance and kissing you.

Eventually, he felt a little more sober and not like he was about to run inside to ruin your lipstick. He returned to the main area. That’s when he caught sight of you again. You were perched on a sofa, laughing animatedly with some guy from the swimming team while sipping on a colorful drink. A weird feeling flared up in him, and as he watched you lean in closer to the guy. Heeseung’s jaw clenched as he watched the guy lean closer as well.

His feet moved before his brain could catch up, and the next thing he knew, he was walking toward you. As he approached, you spotted him, and your entire face lit up. "Hee!" you called out excitedly, as you reached for his hand and practically pulled him down onto the couch next to you. The closeness sent a spark through him, his skin tingling where your skin touched his.

Heeseung shot the guy a look that clearly said back off, and thankfully, he took the hint and left.

“Hee! I haven’t seen you in days!” you whined, your words slightly more slurred from alcohol than it was the last time he talked to you but bright with excitement. “I missed you! You’re not hanging out in the office anymore. What’s that about?” Your body was warm, and you smelled sweet, like vanilla with a hint of alcohol.

Heeseung chuckled, putting his arm on the backrest behind you. “You haven’t been there either! I thought you were avoiding me.”

Since that morning in the hotel room last week, Heeseung hadn’t seen much of you. You’d been busy working during the day and noticeably absent from the rink during your usual hours. He couldn’t shake the nagging worry that he might have overstepped, that something he did had made you uncomfortable. Instead of reaching out, he chose to give you space.

You shook your head dramatically, fake fangs peeking out as you grinned. “Noooo! I was just doing physio. You know, walking practice. But my therapist only had evening sessions!” You wiggled your foot with the cast and looked down at it. “The bathrooms are all messed up tonight,” you said, your cheeks flushed.

“Bathrooms?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in topic, reaching out to tuck a stand of hair behind your ear. Slightly caressing your face.

“I tried to pee earlier, but every bathroom was closed when I went the first time,” you explained, giggling at the absurdity of it all, leaning your head into his hand. “Then I tried again, and this very disheveled couple came out. I mean”, a hiccup interrupted you, ”they looked like they just had a wild night.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like you had quite the adventure.” He was tempted to ask how many drinks you’d had and reached for your cup, his brows knitting together. “Can I have a sip of that?”

“Sure!” you said, handing it over with a smile. 

As the night wore on you slowed down on the drinks, after Heeseung refused to get you another one when you asked him to but you still accepted nearly every shot offered to you. He could’ve spent the rest of the night just watching you laugh, but as the crowd grew louder and wilder, he realized you were a bit drunker than he had originally thought.

You were now fully leaning into him. The proximity made his pulse quicken. His hand rested next to your head and he was occasionally smoothing over your hair. His mind kept drifting back to how you looked tonight. How you’d pulled him onto the couch with such excitement as if he was the best thing you have seen all day. How much he still wanted to ruin your stupid lipstick. He couldn't stop staring at your lips.

“I’m so tired,” you mumbled, and before he could react, you nesteled your face onto his chest, moving your body while doing so and lifting your legs to hand over his thights.

He watched as your eyelids grew heavy. “You should stop drinking,” he said gently, gliding his hand along your back. You shuttered slightly and he was loving the effect he had on you. How reactive you were even though we was barely doing anything.

“I know,” you sighed, looking up at him. The sight made his heart race, and he fought to keep his expression neutral despite the way his pulse quickened at your gaze. Soobin and Yeonjun were sitting next to the two of you. “But it’s just so much fun!”

“I can take you home,” Heeseung offered, the protective side of him kicking in.

You shook your head. “No, I am staying at Lia and Ryujin’s. But they’re not answering their phones. My dad would freak if he saw me without my crutches. He’d lose his mind.”

Heeseung paused, running a hand through his hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Okay, then come to my dorm.”

“Your dorm?” you repeated, eyes brightening slightly. “Is that really okay? I don’t want to crash your night.”

“It’s fine. I mean, Jake and Jay probably won’t be back until morning, anyway,” he reassured you, trying to keep his tone light.

You contemplated it for a moment, and Heeseung held his breath, hoping you’d say yes. You nodded, a small smile creeping across your face. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Let’s get you out of here,” Heeseung replied, helping you up, saying bye to your brother and his friend. 

The walk back to Heeseung’s dorm was slow and a bit wobbly, as you swayed gently on your feet. The chill in the night air didn’t seem to bother you. He offered you his jacket, but you denied claiming that you were so warm and you didn’t want to sweat into his jacket.

“Hey, can we take a quick pit stop?” you asked after a while, stopping mid-step and glancing around. “My foot is hurting, and I just need to sit for a second.”

“Alright,” Heeseung replied, his brows knitting together slightly with concern. He really did not want to let you sit down on the cold and slightly wet concrete floor in the middle of the campus. “You want me to give you a piggyback ride?”

“What? You want me to ride on your back?” you said, your eyes wide.

“It’s either that or a bladder infection for you,” he said, lifting his arms in mock surrender. “Your call.”

After a moment of hesitation, you grinned and climbed onto his back. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, the warmth of your body pressed against his back, Heeseung’s heart raced. The feel of your breath on his neck, the softness of your body against his—it was intoxicating.

He took steady strides, feeling your laughter vibrate against his back.

“You’re really strong!” you said, your voice muffled slightly against him. “I could get used to this!”

“Don’t get any ideas,” he replied, trying to sound serious but failing miserably.

Once inside, he gently set you down on his bed. You flopped back onto the mattress dramatically, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “This is amazing. I don’t wanna move anymore.”

Heeseung chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “Don't you want to get out of that dress? It looks tight, and you’ll be uncomfortable if you sleep in it.”

You pouted, staring up at him with those stupidly adorable doe eyes. “But it’s so comfy here.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully. “Come on, I’ll help you. We can’t have you sleeping in that.You don’t even like sleeping in leggings and I don't want you to complain all day tomorrow.”

With a little more coaxing, you reluctantly sat up, the slight sway in your movements reminding him how tipsy you still were.

“Okay, I might need help,” you admitted sheepishly.

He just laughed and took your cheek onto one hand and caressed it softly, “Alright. Just let me know what to do.”

As you turned your back to him, he helped you unzip the dress. “Just a little more,” he whispered, and he pulled the fabric down gently, letting it fall to the floor.

The sight of the scars on your back caught him off guard for a second. He knew they were there but you were keen on not letting anyone see any of your scars, wearing high waisted pants or skirts all the time. You have told him before, that you were quite insecure over them. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to make you uncomfortable. Instead, he focused on peeling the dress off of your body, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers.

“There you go,” he said, reaching for your set of pajamas in his closet. “Much better, right?”

“Mhm”, you nodded. Heeseung felt a warmth spread through him, watching as you nestled into his bed, claiming your space. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his sudden flustered state.

“Good, we need to hydrate,” he said, already moving toward the small fridge he kept in the corner. He rummaged through it and grabbed a bottle of water before heading back to the bed. “Drink up.”

You took the bottle eagerly, gulping down the water like it was the most refreshing thing in the world and flopped down onto his bed again, shielding your eyes with your arms. Heeseung chuckled at your actions and changed into his own pajamas. He coaxed you to go to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed.

As you brushed your teeth, you stumbled a little while rinsing, giggling as Heeseung steadied you.

When you finally returned to the bed, you carefully adjusted yourself into a position that wouldn’t hurt your leg and snuggled into him. He felt your warmth seep into him, and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you.

“I feel so sleepy,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled as you nestled closer.

“Then close your eyes and sleep, Y/N,” he replied quietly, resting his chin on top of your head, feeling your breathing slow down.

You put your hand onto his waist and squished your face into his chest. He was praying you didn’t notice his racing heart. He started tracing up and down your naked arm and just as he closed his eyes, he felt you sigh contentedly, your breath warm against his skin. “Heeseung?” you murmured, half-asleep already.

“Yeah?” he answered softly, glancing down at you.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” you mumbled, and within moments, he could tell you’d already drifted off into sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open, immediately assaulted by the glaring sunlight streaming into the room. You winced, instinctively trying to turn away from the light, but you couldn't move. Something was holding you down. Or, more precisely, someone. A familiar warmth, a scent you’d recognize anywhere - Heeseung. His chest rose and fell beneath you, steady and rhythmic, the sound of his slow breathing soothing against your ear. You were completely wrapped around him, using him like a full-body pillow—your head on his chest, arms draped over his torso, and your leg casually resting on top of his. His other arm was curled around you, holding you close. His head rested lightly on yours, his messy hair brushing against your forehead.

It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up like this. In fact, it had happened more times than you cared to admit. But each time felt like a new wave of confusion crashing over you. Friends didn’t wake up like this, right? Yet here you were again, tangled up in Heeseung’s arms, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You sighed deeply, letting the warmth of his body seep into you as you tried to ignore the slow, dull pounding in your head. The light was making it worse, far too bright for your sensitive eyes. Carefully, you slid out of his arms, lifting his arm from your waist with a soft, reluctant tug. The cool air hit your skin, and you immediately missed Heeseungs warmth.

You winced slightly as you stood, your recovering leg was hurting more than it usually did after waking up. Maybe going all out with the cast on wasn’t the brightest idea. You pulled the curtains shut, dimming the room and giving your poor head some relief.

A quick glance back at the bed confirmed that Heeseung hadn’t moved an inch. He was laying there, still peacefully asleep, his hair tousled and his lips slightly parted. You hated how good he looked, even now, first thing in the morning. Last night at the party, when he had shown up in his stupidly perfect Greek god costume, you hadn’t been able to take your eyes off him. And it wasn’t just how he looked. It was everything. The way he was always so caring, so thoughtful. Despite being surrounded by people, he kept checking in on you—making sure you were okay, that you weren’t overdoing it with your cast. In Rihanna's words: he did make you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

After a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up, you made your way back to Heeseung’s bed, your heart giving an involuntary flutter at the sight of him still sprawled out, completely at ease. He hadn’t moved since you left, still lost in sleep, his chest rising and falling gently.

As you slid back into the bed, careful not to disturb him, Heeseung stirred. Without hesitation, his arm found you again, pulling you right back against his chest. A sleepy groan rumbled through him as he snuggled closer, his nose brushing against your hair. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing were comforting, almost enough to make you forget the pounding in your head and the dull ache in your leg.

You let your eyes wander over his face, taking in the soft curve of his lips, the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, and the way his lashes fluttered slightly as he dreamed. He looked so peaceful, so relaxed, and so ridiculously hot, even now, sprawled out in his bed probably not nursing a hangover but still. It was unfair, really.

You buried your face against his chest, breathing him in—the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something distinctly Heeseung. It was comforting. Addicting, even. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it, to pretend that this was normal, that waking up with him like this could be your reality. But even as those thoughts tugged at you, the real reality remained the same: you and Heeseung were still just friends. Friends who somehow found themselves waking up tangled together, friends who shared the kind of closeness that made your heart race.

As you lay there, snuggled against Heeseung’s chest, you felt him stir beneath you. His breath hitched slightly before his body shifted, his hand gently trailing down your back as he woke up. You tried not to move, eyes still closed, but you could feel his sleepy gaze on you.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled softly, voice low and husky from sleep.

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Morning."

He blinked lazily, his warm brown eyes still heavy with sleep, but a soft smile spread across his face as he looked down at you. His hand brushed through your hair, his fingers grazing the nape of your neck in a way that sent little shivers down your spine. You were hyper-aware of how close you were to him, of the way his chest pressed against yours.

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice still quiet, almost a whisper as if not to disturb the moment.

Your stomach growled at that very second, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

You groaned, burying your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Starving,” you admitted, muffled against his shirt.

Heeseung shifted underneath you, slowly sitting up and gently moving you off his chest. “Alright, I’ll see what we’ve got.” He stretched, running a hand through his messy hair, and threw you a playful look before getting up and heading for the kitchen.

As he left the room, you took a moment to compose yourself, sitting up in his bed with a soft sigh. The warmth of the bed still lingered on your skin, and you couldn’t help but feel a little empty now that he was no longer lying next to you. You shook your head, trying to shake off the butterflies that seemed to be fluttering in your stomach, and made your way to the kitchen.

When you got there, Heeseung was already at the counter, holding up a box of Froot Loops with a playful grin. “It’s not much, but breakfast is served.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Perfect.”

The two of you sat down at the kitchen island, munching on the cereal together in comfortable silence. Every now and then, your eyes would meet across the table, a small smile shared between you.

As you finished your bowl, the sound of shuffling footsteps caught your attention. Jake stumbled out of his room, his hair a complete mess and his eyes half-shut. He grumbled something unintelligible, making a beeline for the coffee machine.

You watched, amused, as Jake poured himself a cup, taking one long sip before practically collapsing onto the couch. He barely made a dent in his coffee before lying down and pulling a blanket over his head.

“Good morning to you, too,” you called over to him, stifling a laugh.

Jake groaned in response, clearly not in the mood to be social. "Too loud," he mumbled, pulling the blanket tighter over his head.

You and Heeseung exchanged a look, sharing a quiet chuckle. Heeseung finished his cereal and stood up, stretching. “I’m gonna wash up. You good here?”

“Yeah,” you replied, stifling a yawn of your own. "I think I’ll head back to bed for a bit. It’s too early to be awake.”

Heeseung smirked, tossing his bowl into the sink. “Good idea.” He ruffled your hair lightly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Curling up in his bed felt like sinking into a cloud. His scent lingered on the pillows and sheets, a mix of clean soap and something distinctly him, and it was so comforting that you didn’t bother trying to fight the pull of sleep.

Heeseung returned to the room, fresh and looking even better after his quick wash-up. He smiled when he saw you curled up in his bed and slid in beside you, careful not to disturb you too much.

“Wanna watch Prison Break?” he asked softly, picking up the remote.

You nodded sleepily, cuddling closer to him as he pressed play. The intro music started, but your focus drifted more toward him than the screen. The warmth of his body, the way his scent surrounded you—it was impossible to focus on anything else. One of your hands was resting on his chest. You were carefully tracing the design that was printed on his shirt, trying to distract yourself enough to not fall asleep.

You froze as Heeseung’s fingers wrapped around yours, his hand warm and steady against your own.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice rough and low, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers left yours, only to trail upward, brushing against your arm before settling gently on your face.

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice softer now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. His palm cupped your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart stutter, his thumb grazing your skin in slow, soothing circles. The intimacy of the gesture sent your senses into overdrive. His hand was warm, his touch light, but the closeness between you was almost too much to handle.

You dared to glance up, meeting his eyes. His gaze flickered downward, lingering on your lips for a beat too long before returning to yours. The proximity was dizzying. You could feel the faint brush of his breath against your face and it made your head spin.

“You’re making it really hard to focus,” he murmured, his thumb continuing its gentle path along your cheekbone.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whispered, but your voice was unsteady.

Heeseung’s lips tilted into a small, knowing smile. His other hand came up, cradling your face fully now, his fingers curling lightly around the edges of your jaw. He tilted your face up slightly, his thumb brushing over your chin in a way that left you breathless.

“You are,” he said softly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours as his voice dropped even lower. “You always do.”

“Heeseung…” you tried, your voice barely audible, but whatever you wanted to say evaporated as his fingers shifted, tilting your head just enough that his eyes could lock on yours completely. You were pretty sure that his expression was comparable to the one you gave your Taemin poster back in highschool.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, the words so quiet they almost didn’t register.

You didn’t want to stop. The thought of pulling away was laughable. Instead, you gripped the front of his shirt. “I won’t,” you breathed, the words barely leaving your lips.

That was all he needed. He closed the gap between you, his lips hesitantly brushing against yours. It was soft at first, almost testing, but the moment you leaned into him, the kiss deepened.

You melted into him, your hand sliding up to tangle in his hair, and he groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you. His fingers danced across your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every brush of his lips, every touch, sent electricity through your veins. His hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he tilted your head slightly, deepening the kiss even more. A soft sound escaped you, and you could feel him smile against your lips..

You responded instinctively, your hand brushing against his chest, then sliding down to the hem of his shirt. The sensation of his warm skin under your fingertips made your breath hitch, but before you could let yourself get lost in the moment, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“You okay?” His voice was low, a little strained, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded, still breathing a little heavier than normal. “Yeah. Please don’t stop.”

You gave his hair a small tug again, bringing his lips back to yours. Heeseung’s lips never left yours as he slowly, almost reverently, moved you so that you were straddling him. His hands rested on your waist, his thumbs brushing softly against the exposed skin just above your hips, sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers gently graced the angry red scars along your hip.

“I—Sorry,” you muttered against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned your face away, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean for you to see those.”

Heeseung’s gaze softened, his fingers stopping at the hem of your shirt. He gently cupped your face with one hand, tilting it upward again so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Don’t apologize,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Heeseung’s fingers gently brushed over your scars again, this time intentionally. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “All of you.”

“Heeseung…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your gaze flickered down to his lips and then back up to meet his eyes again.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a slow urgency. His hand, now fully under your shirt, splayed across your stomach, fingers tracing your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. You could feel his warmth radiating against you, every touch, every movement, setting your skin on fire. His lips left yours, trailing along your jawline, down to your neck, kissing, nipping at the skin there. You could feel the heat of his breath against your throat, each kiss igniting a fire that spread throughout your body.

“Can I take your shirt off Y/N”, he breathed out.

You just nodded and he carefully lifted you shirt up, revealing your upper body. He threw your (his) shirt off the bed and gently shifted the two of you, laying you back against the pillows. His lips hovered over yours, his breath warm against your skin as his eyes searched yours. “Fuck, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with emotion. “You’re so hot.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the unexpected comment catching you off guard, but the sound was quickly swallowed by him pressing his lips to yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

His hands began to explore your body again. His fingers grazed the curve of your waist, drifting higher, brushing the edge of your bra. The sensation drew a soft gasp from your lips, and the sound seemed to spur him on. His lips left yours to trail kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and lower. You felt the warm press of his lips against the scars along your hip. He kissed each mark with care, as if they were something to be cherished. Your breath hitched as his gaze flicked upward, meeting yours. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes. Unable to find the right words, you carefully reached down, your fingers brushing against his jaw as you guided his face closer to yours. Before you could speak, a sudden, sharp pounding on the door shattered the moment.

“Heeseung! I hate to break up whatever’s going on in there, but the coach wants us at the rink in, like, 30 minutes,” Jake’s voice rang out through the closed door.

Heeseung groaned, his forehead falling against yours as his lips curved into a reluctant smirk. “Of course,” he muttered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. “The world’s worst timing award goes to your father.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly.

As Heeseung and Jake arrived at the rink, a heavy tension hung in the air. The team was scattered around the locker room, each member in a different state of exhaustion.

“Dude, yesterday got crazy after you left,” EJ muttered beside him, still rubbing his temples.

Nicolas, nursing a bruised cheek and offering a wry grin, added, “Not exactly our fault though. Kim Yeoso started it.”

Before Heeseung could ask for more details, the Coach’s voice echoed sharply across the room. “Line up. Now.”

The room fell silent, and a collective weight seemed to settle on everyone as the Coach’s gaze traveled down the line of players. His pacing was slow and deliberate. “Last night was a disgrace. I don’t care who threw the first punch or how it started—this is my team, and I don’t want this kind of attention.”

His glare seared through the team, and though he moved down the line, his eyes rested on Heeseung a beat longer than the others, his silent accusation unmistakable. Heeseung felt the full weight of the words, as if they were directed solely at him. His chest tightened, but he kept his face neutral, silently bracing himself as the Coach continued. Finally, your fathers eyes flickered back to the team with an almost weary finality. “Meeting’s over,” he said, dismissing the rest of the team. “Not you, Heeseung. Stay a minute.”

The players exchanged wary glances as they filed out, each one offering him silent nods of support. Heeseung turned to see the Coach shut the door, his expression shifting from professional disappointment to something far more personal.

His voice was colder than ever when he started speaking: “I’ll ask you once, Heeseung, and I expect a straight answer. What’s going on between you and Y/N?”

His jaw clenched as he quickly composed himself, being caught off guard by the question. “With all due respect, Coach,” he started, his voice calm but firm, “my personal life and Y/N’s are private. I don’t feel it’s appropriate to discuss this with you.”

The Coach’s face darkened, his patience clearly wearing thin. “You think I’m just some overprotective dad, Heeseung?” he bit out, his tone cutting. “She’s barely recovered, and getting involved with you is a distraction she doesn’t need. If you care about her as much as you seem to, you’d understand that.”

Heeseung felt his hands clench at his sides, the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. “I understand what she’s been through, Coach. But Y/N is stronger than you’re giving her credit for. And I’m not backing off because it makes you uncomfortable.”

The air between them turned icy. Your fathers expression hardened. “Then you’re making a mistake,” he warned, his voice low, barely contained. “Because if you don’t back off, I’ll make sure there are consequences. And that’s not a threat, Heeseung—that’s a promise.”

Heeseung’s pulse pounded as the gravity of Coach’s words settled in, but he stood firm, his voice unwavering.

“I’m sorry, Coach Choi. But with all due respect, I’m not going anywhere.”

No matter what Coach threatened, Heeseung knew he wouldn’t step back. He was already drafted and chose to go back to college hockey, so the Coach had nothing on him.

Your father held his gaze a moment longer, his expression unreadable but filled with a disappointed resolve. “Fine,” he said curtly. “Then don’t expect me to go easy on you.” Without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving Heeseung standing alone in the empty locker room.

“It’s not about whether or not you think you’re fine!” Your fathrs voice is sharper than ever, frustration bubbling over as he paces in front of you. “You’re ignoring your own recovery. The doctors said you could walk without crutches, but they didn’t say to push yourself to the point of needing another surgery. What are you thinking?”

The accusation stinged, sharp and unexpected. You blinked, willing yourself not to let him see how much that hurt. Another surgery. He knew, maybe better than anyone, how terrified you were of that possibility. And here he was, throwing it in your face as if it’s something you’d choose—like you’d ever risk it on purpose.

A mix of disbelief and anger rose within you, and you stood up, meeting his intense gaze. “You know I don’t want that. You know better than anyone what I’ve been through, and you think I’d risk more just for one night? I’m not being reckless, I’m just… living my life.”

“Living your life?” he snapped back, his tone filled with frustration. “Living your life means ignoring everything you’ve fought to rebuild, just for a night of fun? I’m trying to keep you from setting yourself back.”

“You’re acting like I don’t take this seriously! Like I haven’t been doing everything I can to heal. I know my body better than anyone, Dad. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you treating me like I’m made of glass.”, your voice was shaking in anger. When your father and Soobin returned from the rink you weren’t even able to properly greet them, before your father started berating you.

Soobin’s voice cut through the tension, calm but unwavering. “She’s an adult, Dad. Y/N knows her limits. You can’t keep controlling everything.”

Your dad turned sharply to face Soobin, his gaze hard. “This isn’t about what she thinks she can handle, Soobin. It’s about being realistic, about protecting her from making choices she’ll regret later.”

Soobin didnt back down. “But you’re treating her like she’s fragile when she’s proven over and over that she’s not.”

“I just don’t want her making reckless decisions,” your dad insited, but his eyes slide back to you. Your dad’s tone was sharp as he moved past your injuries.

“And then there’s Heeseung.” The way he says his name makes you flinch. “He’s a distraction, Y/N. You’re already pushing yourself too hard, and now you’re getting involved with someone who won’t be there when things get difficult. If you’re not careful, you’ll lose focus on everything that matters. And in addition to that you are distracting my captain from his duties.”

Before you could respond, Soobin stepped forward, his voice firm. “Dad, you’re being unfair.”

Your dad turned, surprised, but Soobin stood his ground. “You know Heeseung. You were the one who made him captain because you trusted him to lead. He’s responsible, he’s focused, and he cares about Y/N, more than you’re giving him credit for.”

Your dad’s expression hardened, and he crossed his arms. “He’s a good player, Soobin. But he’s young, and he doesn’t understand what Y/N needs right now.”

“And you think you do?” You countered, voice tight with frustration. “I am an adult. I know what I'm doing. And Heeseung’s been there for me, supporting me, making sure I am taking care of myself. He’s never pushed me into anything that would risk me recovery.”

Your father hesitated, his gaze moving between you and Soobin, a flicker of doubt finally creeping into his expression. But he quickly brushed it off, his jaw set in a familiar look of stubbornness. “You’re not seeing the big picture. I’m trying to protect you, to keep you from making choices you'll regret later.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. “The only thing I’m going to regret is not standing up for what I want and what I know I can handle. Heeseung isn’t the problem here, Dad. And if you would actually talk to me, you’d know that he’s been nothing but respectful and supportive.”

Soobin looked at your father, his tone more measured. “I trust Heeseung, Dad. You should, too. And more than that, you need to trust Y/N. She knows her limits better than anyone else here.”

Your father’s silence spoke volumes. Finally, he lets out a slow breath, his gaze softening just slightly. “I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt, Y/N.”

“I know,” you said, your voice steadier now. “But I’m not going to let fear control me.”

For once, he didn’t argue, and though the silence remains strained, there’s a glimmer of something that felt like reluctant acceptance. Soobin squeezed your shoulder in quiet reassurance.

You and Soobin sat cross-legged on Yeonjun's living room floor, surrounded by discarded pizza boxes and half-empty soda cans. You let out a frustrated groan and leaned back, resting your head against the couch right next to Beomgyu's thigh, who patted your head in solidarity.

“Maybe you should just… move out? Like properly," Beomgyu suggested, his voice gentle but with a hint of urgency. "If he sees you’re capable on your own, maybe he’d finally get that you’re an independent adult who knows what she’s doing.”

You sighed. “I’d love to, honestly. But how am I even supposed to manage that?” You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It’s not like I have a job—he’s always insisted that I focus on school, hockey, or ‘recovery.’ Everything’s paid for by him. So if I tried to move out, I’d probably have to ask him for rent money anyway. I’m not really independent.”

Soobin, sitting cross-legged beside you, crossed his arms. “Mom would definitely cover your rent if you asked. She’s offered to help me plenty of times.”

Yeonjun, lounging on the other side of the room with a slice of pizza in hand, smirked. “Yeah, and Soobin, you should really take her up on that sometime. You’ve crashed on my couch way too many nights,” he teased, nudging Soobin’s leg with his foot. “Maybe I could ask her.” You shrugged, the thought of moving out felt a bit daunting.

“Trust me, we’ll find you a place that works,” Yeonjun assured, with his usual casual confidence. He reached over and tousled your hair, smiling as he added, “And hey, if nothing else, my couch will always be happy to host any Choi family member.”

“Thanks, Yeonjun,” you laughed, feeling a little lighter.

In the end, you decided to stay at Yeji’s and Ryujin’s dorm for a few days. You weren’t ready for the full commitment of moving out just yet, but the space away from home was a welcome relief. Their couch became your temporary refuge, a safe distance from the constant arguments and suffocating expectations. 

And it seemed your dad got the hint after a few days of you not coming home and keeping conversations strictly professional at work. You noticed his glances lingering a bit longer than usual whenever he’d pass you at the rink, sometimes with a sigh or a hesitant pause, as if he wanted to say something but held back. Each time he tried, though, Soobin, your (now official) boyfriend, or one of their friends would step in, steering you away from him, often under the guise of needing help with some “urgent task.” 

Heeseung was sprawled out on the couch, fingers deftly moving over the controller as he focused intently on the game playing out on the screen. The familiar sounds of COD echoed through the apartment. You had just returned from physiotherapy, and the session had left you exhausted. You rested your head in Heeseung’s lap, the soft fabric of his sweatpants cushy against your cheek.

“Gotcha!” Heeseung exclaimed suddenly, his excitement pulling you out of your sleepy haze. Just as you began to relax back into the soothing rhythm of him playing, the ringing of Heeseung's phone cut through the peaceful atmosphere. He frowned, glancing down at the screen.

“It’s Jay,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully. He answered the call, holding the phone to his ear. “What’s up?”

You shifted slightly in his lap, burying your face into his stomach, seeking more comfort. Heeseung chuckled, brushing your hair back gently. “Yeah, I’m here. What’s going on?”

As Jay spoke on the other end, Heeseung’s face lit up with a smile. “Oh, curry sounds good!”

At the mention of curry, you stirred, raising your head to look at him. “Oh yes curry.” you mumbled sleepily, your voice muffled against his shirt. Heeseung raised an eyebrow at you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Want curry?” he asked, repeating your question back to you. You nodded slowly, still feeling heavy with tiredness, and you buried your face deeper into his stomach as if hiding from the world. You nodded sleepily, and he relayed the message to Jay. “Y/N’s here, and she’s definitely in for some curry,” he said, laughing at how cozy you looked all curled up against him.

After hanging up, Heeseung glanced down at you, his expression softening. “Jay is bringing over curry, is that fine with you?”

You nodded, still half-asleep. “Yeah.”

He chuckled softly, running his fingers through your hair. You shifted again, resting your cheek against his stomach, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment longer.

“You’re warm,” you murmured, feeling the vibrations of his laughter through your body.

Heeseung’s hand continued to play with your hair, a peaceful silence settling over the room again. “You know, if you keep this up, we might miss dinner and just sleep until tomorrow,” he teased, and you just nodded, not responding anymore.

As sleep began to take hold, Heeseung gently scooped you up in his arms and carried you to his bedroom, tucking you under the blankets. The last thing you felt was his warmth beside you, and then you were out like a light.

You awoke to the sound of animated voices and the smell of food. Blinking against the light, you felt slightly disoriented. As you stepped into the kitchen area, you latched onto Heeseung’s back, burying your face into his shoulder. He chuckled softly, clearly amused.

“Well good evening, nice of you to join us,” he said, leaning back into you.

Jay and Jake turned, both bursting into laughter at the sight. “Look at you two! So cute,” Jake teased, leaning against the counter with a smug grin.

“Heeseung’s gotten so soft, it’s actually embarrassing.” Jay added, shaking his head in mock disbelief. 

As you took a seat at the table, Jay served up generous portions of steaming curry, filling the kitchen with a delicious warmth. You nestled into the chair beside Heeseung, pulling his hoodie sleeves over your hands to keep cozy.

Jake leaned back in his chair, digging into his food. “Not gonna lie, this curry tastes like heaven after today’s practice,” he said, letting out a small groan of appreciation.

Heeseung nodded, laughing. “Tell me about it. Coach was on us the whole time, especially after the last game. I can still feel the bruises from blocking shots in the scrimmage.”

Jake joined in with a laugh. “Y/N, you should’ve seen him. Dude was practically diving in front of pucks like it was a championship game.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Absolutely no chill.”

“Hey, that ‘no chill’ gets results,” Heeseung shot back, grinning before glancing at you a little more seriously.

“Actually… speaking of practice. Your dad stopped me today. He asked about you.”

You paused mid-bite, meeting Heeseung’s gaze. “ What did he say?”

“Nothing pushy,” Heeseung said, clearly choosing his words carefully. “He just asked if I’d seen you and if you were doing alright.”

You took a moment to process it, unsure how to feel. “I mean, he has been calling. And he has been asking Soobin and Minji where I am. Soobin just told to guess where I am.”

Jay gave a thoughtful nod. “Well, maybe he is trying to fix things?.”

Heeseung gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “I think Jay has a point. Maybe it’s worth giving him a chance to apologize.”

You sighed, your eyes drifting down to your half-finished plate. “It’s just… every time we have a conversation, he manages to make it feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m throwing away his idea of the perfect future, or like my decisions don’t matter. I don’t know if I want to go through all that again.”

Jake, who had been quietly stirring his drink, chimed in with a thoughtful look. “Maybe this time you don’t have to go through all of it. Talk to him on your terms. You don’t owe him anything more than what you’re comfortable with.”

Heeseung nodded. “Exactly. You can set boundaries. I’ll even be there if you want—or, you know, Soobin could tag along for backup moral support.”

Jake chuckled, giving you a reassuring smile. “Just let him do all the talking. Sometimes people need to hear themselves to realize how ridiculous they sound.”

You exhaled slowly,”I’ll think about it.”

You entered the rink together with Jays girl (space) friend, ready to capture the day’s events. The hockey team had organized a special event where they would teach local kids the basics of hockey, and you were there to film some PR content. Heeseung crouched down, demonstrating how to hold a stick while surrounded by a group of eager kids. You couldn’t help but smile as you filmed, completely enchanted by how cute he looked in his hockey gear, patiently explaining everything while the kids watched with wide eyes.

After a while, Heeseung noticed you filming from the sidelines and excused himself from the kids. He made his way over to you.

“Hi baby.” he greeted you, gently taking your face in his hands, tilting it up toward him. His eyes searched yours for a moment, and then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It was sweet and tender, and you melted into him, completely forgetting about the cameras and the kids for a few blissful seconds.

“Ew. Boo! Get a room!” Beomgyu called out from the sidelines, pretending to gag dramatically, his face scrunched up in mock disgust. You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry, Beomgyu. Didn’t know you were such a romantic,” you shot back.

Heeseung chuckled. “Don’t be jealous, Gyu. Just appreciate the love in the air.” Heeseung pecked your lips again and went back onto the ice, regrouping the kids for another round of activities. 

Heeseung made his way up to your office when the event ended. He knocked at your door and peaked his face into the room: “Let’s go home babe. The kids are all gone.”

“Give me ten minutes. I’ll be done with the Tiktok recap for today.”, you said, softly smiling at him.

“Sure thing.”, he plopped down onto the sofa in your office and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

As you wrapped up the editing, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Heeseung was focused, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration, and you felt a rush of affection. When you finished, you got up and sat down on his lap, surprising him.

“Hey there,” he said, a smile breaking through his concentration. His hands found their way to your sides, his touch warm.

“Hi Love.” You leaned in closer, caressing his cheek gently. “I gotta say seeing you with kids? Might be one of the best things ever.” you teased, inching your lips closer to his.

Heeseung’s eyes sparkled, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Oh yeah? I guess I’ll have to volunteer more often, then.”

“You just might have to,” you replied, leaning in closer, letting your hand drift to his cheek, your thumb brushing his skin.

He closed the gap between you. The kiss was soft at first, just a gentle brushing of lips, but it quickly deepened as he pulled you closer, his hands resting firmly on your waist. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you lost yourself in the moment. You tilted your head to the side and gasped when Heeseung traced your lips with his tongue. His hands started caressing your thighs as you broke the kiss to breathe for a second. He directed his focus onto your neck, kissing it softly.

You closed your eyes and whispered his name, when a sharp knock on your door made you jump apart. “Y/N? Do you have a minute for me?”, your fathers deep voice came from the other side of the door.

You threw a panicked glance at Heeseung, who was frantically trying to smooth his hair and pull his sweatshirt into a more composed position. If your ears were even half as red as his, your father would definitely know what he’d just interrupted. With a quick attempt to brush your own hair back, you got up, meeting Heeseung’s sheepish smile with a reassuring one of your own.

Finally, you took a steadying breath and walked to open the door. “Sure, Dad. Come in.”

Your father stepped inside, taking in the two of you with an expression that looked almost nervous? “Y/N,” he began, his voice hesitant, “can I talk to you for a minute? Both of you, actually.”

You exchanged a quick, curious look with Heeseung before nodding. Heeseung sat up straighter, and your dad took a deep breath before sinking into the office chair opposite you.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” your dad started, his hands clasped tightly together. “About everything… about how I’ve treated you since the accident.” His voice cracked slightly, and you felt your chest tighten.

“I’ve been so hard on you, Y/N. Pushing, hovering, nagging… It’s like I’ve been trying to fix something I can’t undo.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his vulnerability. “Dad…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I can’t forgive myself for what happened. I feel like I failed you. You’re so young, and you’ve had to deal with so much—too much. And instead of helping you heal, I made things worse by trying to control everything. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of you hurting, and I thought that if I stayed on top of everything, it might somehow fix things.”

The raw emotion in his voice left you speechless.

“I was wrong,” he continued, looking up at you now, his eyes glassy. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved someone who could help you without suffocating you.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “Dad, I—”

“And Heeseung,” your dad continued, turning his attention to the boy at your side. The tension in the room seemed to double.

Heeseung straightened, his jaw tightening as if bracing for a blow.

“I was hard on you. I know that,” your dad admitted.

“When I found out about you and Y/N, I wasnt exactly happy.”

You winced at the memory, glancing at Heeseung, who gave a small, humorless smile.

“I didn’t want her getting hurt,” your dad said, his voice softer now. “But I realize now that I was wrong about you.” He paused, running a hand over his face before meeting Heeseung’s gaze again. “You’re not just a great captain. You’re a good man. And I couldn’t ask for anyone better to be with my daughter.”

Heeseung looked stunned, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process the words. Finally, he managed a quiet, “Thank you, sir.”

Your dad gave a small, rueful smile. “You’ve earned it. Both of you have. And I hope you’ll forgive me for the way I’ve handled things. I know it’ll take time to rebuild some of the trust I’ve broken, but I just wanted you both to know how sorry I am.”

For a long moment, silence hung in the air. You felt Heeseung’s hand brush against yours, grounding you, and you reached out to take your dad’s hand.

“Thank you, Dad,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m still mad at you, a little. But… I’m glad you said this. It means a lot.”

Heeseung nodded beside you, his own expression softening. “We appreciate it,” he said sincerely. “Really.” Your dad gave a small, watery smile.

The hotel room was softly lit, the glow from the bedside lamp casting a golden hue. You were at the small vanity, adjusting your earrings. Behind you, Heeseung was sprawled out on the bed, still in his undershirt and slacks, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.

“You’re not even close to being ready,” you teased, catching his reflection in the mirror.

Heeseung smirked, locking his phone and stretching out lazily. “I’m waiting for you to come help me with this dumb tie. You know I suck at it.”

“You could have learned by now,” you chided, turning to face him. “But no, you just like making me do it for you.”

“Maybe,” he said, sitting up. “But it’s also an excuse to keep you close.”

You rolled your eyes but crossed the room anyway. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased, sitting up and letting his knees part slightly so you could stand between them.

Heeseung grinned, holding the tie up like a peace offering. You took it from him, carefully looping and pulling it into a neat knot. He watched you the entire time, his eyes soft and unwavering.

“You’re staring,” you mumbled, focusing on his tie.

“Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply.

Your fingers faltered for a second before continuing, looping the tie around his neck and starting to knot it.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“And you love it,” he quipped, echoing your usual response.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, watching you with that warm, unrelenting gaze that always made your heart skip. As you finished the tie, your fingers brushing against his chest, he reached out to grab your hand, stopping you before you could step back. “Are you sure I look good enough to be seen with you?”

You arched a brow, feigning consideration. “Hmm. Maybe. You clean up okay.”

“Just okay?” he asked, tugging gently on your hand to pull you closer. His other hand slid to your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against the fabric of your dress.

“Better than okay,” you admitted softly, feeling his warmth seep through the fabric.

“That’s more like it.” Heeseung’s voice dropped an octave. His free hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his fingers traced lightly down the side of your neck.

“You’re staring again,” you murmured, your voice unsteady under his gaze.

“Can you blame me?” he said, his lips quirking into a grin. “You’re stunning.”

“Flatterer,” you mumbled, though your cheeks flushed at his words.

“You’re blushing,” he teased, leaning in until your noses were almost touching.

“Stop it,” you whispered, half laughing, but you didn’t pull away.

“Make me.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips were on yours, soft at first, just a gentle brush. But the moment you leaned into him, he made a low sound deep in his throat, and the kiss shifted—growing hungrier, more urgent. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other cradled your face. One of his hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, the simple gesture making your heart race even faster.

You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped you when he deepened the kiss, his tongue tentatively exploring as though he was savoring every second. Your hands instinctively flew to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer. He groaned at the sensation, his fingers tightening slightly against your back. A soft whimper escaped your throat when he tilted his head, adjusting the angle to kiss you even deeper. His lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a mixture of passion and care that made your heart race. The hand on your back shifted, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles that made your skin tingle even through the fabric of your dress.

He pulled back just slightly, enough to draw in a breath, but his forehead stayed pressed to yours. His eyes were hooded, his pupils dark with something that made your stomach flip. His thumb grazed your lower lip.

“You’re going to drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

“Right back at you,” you whispered, but before you could catch your breath, he leaned back in, capturing your lips again.

This time, the kiss was slower but no less intense, his lips lingering as though memorizing the taste of you. His hand drifted upward, tangling lightly in the hair at the nape of your neck, while yours tightened their grip in his. The small tug you gave his hair made him groan again, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a delicious thrill down your spine. His free hand slid along your waist, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your dress as though he couldn’t decide whether to hold you closer or take his time exploring. A small, breathless sound escaped you, and he pulled back just enough to look at you.

“You taste like vanilla,” he murmured, his voice husky and low.

“Is that a complaint?” you asked, your voice breathless, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

“Not even close,” he whispered before diving back in, his lips capturing yours with a renewed fervor.

When he finally pulled away, his lips hovered just above yours, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face.“Still think we’re going to be late?”

You laughed, brushing a hand through his hair to smooth it. “Definitely.”

“And I don’t even feel bad about it,” he said, leaning in to steal one more kiss before letting you go.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing your clutch from the nightstand. “Get your jacket. We’re already pushing it.”

He hopped up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. As you turned toward the door, he caught your hand and pulled you back to him. “For the record,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, “I don’t care if we miss the gala entirely. I’ve already got everything I want right here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “You’re impossible.”

“I am just lucky you love me.” he said, flashing you that boyish grin as he opened the door for you.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love

[yok00k]

Igual Que Un Ángel

pairing: hellokittylover!/bimbo!oc x boxer!jk

genre: MATURE, fluff, lowkey angst,

“heaven must have sent you, love”

synopsis: after spending the entire day shopping with your boyfriend, you’re craving mochi donuts and bubble milk tea before going to bed and jungkook, even in his tired state, will do everything to make you happy.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: so much fluff, NO plot, jealous/possessive kook, oc can’t tell when someone flirts with her, tiny silent treatment, oc is kinda dumb, lots of kisses, shower sex, oral [m], oc’s head game is STRONG, head pusher jk, hair pulling, they went shopping for underwear, cussing, aftercare, oc is obsessed with pink/hello kitty, oc is so desperate for his cock and she must get what she wants⛄️(she was virgin before this took place), oc had a vid of her playing, mention of toys, JK is not trying to b obvious but he’s IN LOVE, brief cockwarming at the end, <not proofread>

author’s note: i def did not write this in between my classes😮‍💨 i just discovered that im mentally unhinged as im editing this in class. I have my priorities straights tho so here you go🥢

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

you suppose today was really wonderful.

you two spend almost the whole day at the outlet mall, mostly to shop clothes for yourself. you needed new pairs of undies and Jungkook being the glorious boyfriend he is, helped you shop. not only he paid for all your purchase, he also gives his opinions on certain cloth materials of what the underwear was made of. he wants to make himself useful by helping you out pick out make sure that they’re comfortable to your preference, he goes with you in the fitting room to try them on in front of him.

As you try on clothes for hours and hours in multiple shops, your boyfriend miraculously always finds a chair in the corner of each fitting room that he can rest on. a few hours later, you two arrive back at your place. jungkook initiated to carry all the paper bags you had as the two of you headed from the garage to inside your house.

soon, he began cooking the night’s dinner, which you really enjoy watching because he keeps entertaining you with his skillful talent and his humorous jokes. a quality time like this just makes you fall in love with him even more. you wish and pray that you can spend the rest of this delightful lifetime with him.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

the hands of the clock signifies 11:11, which is usually the time you drift off to sleep. except tonight isn’t a typical night, owing to the fact that your beloved lover is sleeping over at your cozy flat.

although it’s pretty late, you two are cuddled on your not-so-spacious couch, watching a kdrama that was recently released and you still have the clothes you put on this afternoon: a cute pink long sleeve crop top and a pink/black mini skirt. you also can’t forget to add a pair of thick fleece tights since it’s freezing cold outside.

you felt a sudden cravings for something in the midst of the show. you desire for something sweet. and chewy.

“koo..” you murmur, distracting your man from the show on the big screen. he redirects his focus to you as he caresses your hair with his soft, yet rough palms.

“i’m craving donuts”

“want me to go to the convenience store and grab some for you?” he suggests

“no I don’t want that, I want mochi donuts” you cutely demand

“but baby it’s too late” he said, lifting his wrist to look at his gold Rolex watch. “aren’t they close at this time?”

these days, your social feeds are just full of ads, particularly bakery places nearby your place that serve mouth-watering breads, donuts, ice creams, bubble milk tea, and the list goes on. promptly, the phone that’s sitting next to jungkook was taken by you.

“look, there’s one that’s still open till midnight” you replied, showing him the navigation to the bakery shop that’s on your screen. his tired eyes glanced at your phone, then back at you.

“please koo?” you pleaded, climbing on top of him and giving him thousands of kisses all over his face until he’s got enough is the most effective technique to persuade him. how can jungkook say no when you display a behavior like this to get whatever you want? the forever answer is he just can’t.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

You two arrive at the place twenty minutes before they close. Since it’s late at night, you can see through the big windows that there’s not many customers inside the donut shop.

“oh my, we’re finally here” you joyfully babble to yourself out loud which made your driving boyfriend chuckle. while jungkook slows down the car to eyeball a good parking spot, you reach for your pink purse taking out the hello kitty lip oil to apply them on your chapped lips.

Jungkook carefully parked the car on the side of the road. He looked at our surroundings such as the front, back, and the side of his vehicle, making sure everything seems clear before he takes off his seat belt and gets off of the automobile. As usual, Jungkook walks to the other side, gesturing that he will open the car door for me. This man doesn’t ask a lot regarding how things should be in our relationship but the number one rule he established is that you could never open any door when you’re with him.

He quickly unlocked my door with one hand and offered his other hand to assist my body getting out of the car. As you got out, you felt the strong wind blowing your mini skirts, making them move up. but jungkook immediately takes off his zip up fleece oversized jacket to tie it tight around your waist.he ensures that the skirt won’t go up by walking behind you whilst holding your cold hand towards the bakery.

a scent of sweet caramelized brown sugar that you’ve been craving welcomes you as soon as you step into the threshold of the place. Looking around the store, you notice multiple neon pink led lights of donuts are decorated in the walls. the long honey maple stained table against the windows was paired with white barstool chairs. You also did not fail to miss that their white snowed christmas tree is still up, filled with rosy ornaments and pinkish lights around it.

‘this is definitely my new favorite place’ you noted to yourself as you feel cozy inside.

Your boyfriend wasted no time to lead you to the counter, only for you to see the variety of flavor of their delicious mochi donuts displayed on the front top. you can’t help but to drool on the sight, you’re starting to feel satisfaction by just looking at them.

“hello, what can I get for you today?” the tall male server who’s probably around your age friendly greeted. a little too friendly, in jungkook’s opinion but he chose to try to shrug it off. before answering him, I turned to jungkook “what are you getting koo?” asking to know what he wants.

“don’t know. you can order whatever you want for me” he responds as his doe eyes look up to scan the menu on the screen that’s mounted in their polished ceramic walls. Jungkook is on a diet these days therefore he tries his best to restrain eating sweets but he knows that cheat days won’t hurt if it only happens once or twice a month.

turning to face the server once again, you made up your mind on what to order. “hi, can we get two brown sugar milk teas with less ice and can you make one extra sugar please” you gently requested and the server instantly punched the orders in their ipad.

you take another look at the yummy donuts before continuing. “and i would like to get a dozen of the mochi donuts.” you pointed to the biggest bakery box.

jungkook wasn’t even surprised that you’re getting 12 pieces, potentially all for yourself considering you have a sweet tooth, which could be really extreme sometimes. he stands still next to you, amused by how cute you are, getting all excited by all these sweets you’re about to eat as you tell the the guy the flavors you want.

the server hands you two of their fresh brown sugar bubble milk tea & pink box that contains lots of sugar and of course, you happiness. afterwards, he declars the total for all the things you order. you’re about to tap in your debit card that’s covered with hello kitty skin when jungkook’s black card is already approved on the chip card reader.

“you didn’t have to koo” you murmur. your man always insists on paying for everything,

“i want too”

he does things for you not because he’s going to gain something or that he’s expecting some type of return from you. Rather, he does them solely because he loves you and he loves seeing you getting all the things you want.

for the meantime ,you look for a table that you two can sit at, particularly a spot where there’s a cute background since you would like to take some photos.

immediately, your eyes spot the perfect table right next to the huge windows to sit and take pictures in. you swiftly walk over the spot and your boyfriend follows you like a lost puppy.

“kook can you take pictures of me here?” you ask, while unwrapping the thick jacket around your waist and position yourself on the stool chair.

jungkook unlocks the camera on his phone, positions the cellular in your desired angle, and clicks the white button multiple times. he casually looks at the camera screen and looks up to you. when he notices that by the way your sitting is slightly showing your ass, and instantly goes up to you to fix it. you’re confused at first by his sudden action but you soon realize why.

“oops, thank you kookie” you chortle

when he goes back to his previous standing position, he catches the same annoying server maliciously staring at you, in a way that’s very unpleasant to him, which just pisses him off more. nevertheless, he captures photos of your adorable face while attempting to drink your favorite bubble tea for the camera. then, he passes his phone so you can review the images.

‘he’s such a great photographer’you thought. these picture will be posted on your pink themed finsta.

“can we go now?” jungkook harsly rushed. this place is alright, but that fucking server is just making his blood boils. he needs to get you two out of here before he does something not pretty.

you read his sudden unusual behavior and chose not to argue. you really loved this place, but you can understand that your boyfriend is too tired and just wanted to sleep. you’ll definitely come back though.

“wait koo, I'll use their restroom first.” you excuse yourself, feeling the need to change the menstrual pad that you’re wearing, you fear bleeding through jungkook’s leather seats.

you did your business pronto. unexpectedly when you walked out of the restroom, the friendly worker corners you, with something in his hand.

“miss, would you like to have this?” He offers the cute and huge hello kitty boba plushie that is in his grip. your eyes widening as they gaze upon the lovely thing. “I noticed your phone case and I thought this is perfect for you” he shyly adds as he scratches the back of his head, pointing out the pink Hello Kitty case you have.

“sure! how much is it?” you respond with full of energy. this plush will be added to your collection.

“don’t worry about it,here” he extends the plushie towards you, gesturing that you should take it.

you look for some type of unseriousness in his eyes but you found none. he does seem nice. you accept the cute plushie that’s waiting for you to be held, hugging it really tight.

“you’re really cute. do you mind if I get your number?” the man in front of you speaks. “so i can give you more plushies for free of course” he further explains, trying to convince you to give him your digits

but you remember what jungkook once said, and that is never give any other men your number. Although you can’t grasp why he doesn’t want you to do that, you listen to him because you don’t want to get him all sad and mad at you. angry jungkook is the least thing you want to deal with. he turns really cold and you hate not getting affection from him.

“I'm sorry but I can't give you my number. thanks for this though.” you give him a weak smile. you also hate the feeling of rejecting people but you also don’t want to get in trouble.

the friendly expression that the guy has been erased and replaced with a blank expression, as if ‘no’ isn’t the right answer. he snarls before speaking “Is it because of your punk boyfriend? c'mon pretty girl he doesn’t have to kno-“

“who doesn’t have to know what?” a familiar voice cuts off the man you’re facing before you can understand what the previous man just said.

jungkook approaches you, snatching the plushy in your grasp. “where did you get this from?” he sternly asks. he might have known the answer, it’s so obvious from what it looks like, but he needs to make sure before he beats somebody’s ass.

“koo he gav-“ that was enough for jungkook to vigorously slam the plushy back onto that guy’s chest, making the man flinch and slightly back off. “look or talk to my woman one more time and things will get ugly for you” he threatens, giving the guy the most serious stare, the same stare he has when fighting in the boxing ring.

without saying anything, he grabs your hand sternly and you two walk out the store. you still didn’t get why jungkook didn’t want you to have that plushie, it was perfect to add to your collection.

the entire car ride back to your place was awfully quiet. you offer to drive back home when you notice that he’s speeding and seems so tense, but jungkook refuses, telling you that he’s fully capable of driving back with a somber tone.. his tattooed hands aren’t where they’re supposed to be placed, your thigh. but you argue no further, not wanting to make him more angry than he already is.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

hours later, you’re gathering the sleepwear you’ll wear for tonight before hopping in the shower, which is currently occupied by your boyfriend. usually, you two always shower together whenever you’re sleeping at his place and vice versa, but tonight you received no invitation from him since he’s giving you silent treatment for an unknown reason.

despite the fact, you made up your mind to join him as you enter the steamy bathroom, the warm atmosphere welcomes you while you close the door behind you.

your gaze meets jungkook’s tall muscular figure, his tattooed arm up against the white wall, while head is pointing down as the hot water that’s coming from the showerhead runs down his body.

quietly strip down your clothes, you proceed to open the sliding shower door and step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him.

jungkook faintly flinched as he felt a pair of dainty arms wrapped around his bare torso. he knew exactly who they belonged to, his loved one.

he slightly turns his head, just to see you, hopelessly showing affection towards him in the midst of washing the negative internal thoughts out of his system.

“are you mad at me baby?” you worriedly ask, overthinking that you might have done something that might upset him or maybe he’s too stressed out on his non-stop training schedule since his competitions are coming soon or maybe he can’t handle being with you anymore. lots of maybe but communication is the only way you will know how he feels.

the question of yours sends a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. you completely did nothing wrong. he knows for a fact you can’t say no to anyone who gives you a Hello Kitty plushie. your tiny little head just can’t comprehend that these guys want something in return for giving you things you love to collect. you’re too good for your own.

now he feels like a total idiot, another part of him feels guilty for the sudden shift in his behavior, solely because he's so in love with you that he can’t stand seeing men look at your way.

you did nothing wrong. nothing at all. you’re just so goddamn beautiful that your boyfriend is starting to lose it.

he can’t help but let the possessiveness take over him as soon as he perceives other guys showing their interest in his pretty girl. the woman he desires to keep to himself for the rest of this lifetime, the next one, and for many more

jungkook crowds you up against the cold marble wall just after he turns his buff body to face you. wasting no time, he leaves smooches on your pouty lips and jaw. “didn’t I tell you I'm the only one who can give you hello kitty stuff?” he sensually whispers to your right ear, continuing to give you wet kisses. “hmm?”

“but why?” you pout, resulting in the kisses to come to stop. he looks at you directly in the eyes, “because i’m your boyfriend and that job is solely for me” he simply explains

“but koo it was for free, he was really nice but then he started asking for my number so he could give me more but i didn’t give it to him because you specifically instructed me not to.” you mindlessly babble, explaining your side all in one sentence. simultaneously, you grab the white loofa next to the pink one and apply jungkook’s favorite body wash. it still doesn’t make sense to you. you love collecting hello kitty, but the love you have for the man in front of you is significantly greater.

oh jungkook is really going to lose it. that fucker had the audacity to ask you shit like that right when you’re with him.

“and that’s why I don’t want you talking to them, they want to take advantage of you” he takes a deep breath

“i’m sorry kook” you mutter, attempting to cuddle his naked form.

“i know something was off with that motherfucker” he starts off, “keeps looking at you in a way i don’t appreciate” he finally admits, with his tone hinting a pinch of jealousy. “and that fucking plush- he’s getting on my fucking nerves.”

“all he can do is look koo” you laugh. “Besides, I’m already cuffed by my hot boyfriend. what more can I possibly look for?” your words declaring that your eyes are only fixed to him. there’s no reason to look at other men anyways.

“you’re only mine right?” he just needs to directly hear those words come out of your mouth.

“only yours” you murmur. and that reassured him. for now.

you stand on your tiptoe to kiss his cute nose, from there you smack your lips against his as your smooth palms trace his jawline.

as seconds goes by, the desire to express how much you love him is rapidly growing. you want him. you need him.

you detach your lips against his, just to fixate them on his neck, right on the pretty tiny mole on his skin, your favorite spot. your hand does its own job to explore his sculpted body, finding its way to palm his painful growing erection.

he knows where this is going

your kisses trail from his upper chest to his defined abs; so brawny and delicious. he follows your gesture, finding you on your knees, beneath him, your beautiful face positioned right in front of his hardening cock.

oh this is the one and only circumstance he would kill and die for to be in.

jungkook knows that sly grin expression you wear as you look up with those round doll eyes. purposely, your both arms push against each other to give him a good view of your perky breast squeezed together. with his shaft twitching, can’t help but to utter an uncontrollable moan from seeing you like this.

“can I?” you ask softly, waiting for permission from him as if you’re not in this sinful position at least twice every time you two spend time together. no matter what, you still drool by just staring at his cock as if it’s your favorite lollipop.

he quietly hums and nods his head while nibbling his lip piercings, giving you the green light.

you start off slow, giving his pretty pink tip covered with precum small pecks. smearing the liquid around your lips, pretending it as if it’s one of your lip gloss, making them nice and glossy.

sweet

“i only wanna do this with you” you hungrily voice out in each swift peck while locking your seductive eyes on his.

he brings his fingers towards your jaw, lifting your chin up. “open” he commands, directing you to open your mouth. and so you did, without hesitation. a hot glob of spit falls into your tongue, which turns you on even more. you quickly swallow it and resume with what you’re doing.

he continues to watch you as your swollen lips slowly wrap his thick cock. your mouth is solely made for jungkook as it welcomes him inch by inch. although sucking him becomes a part of your daily routine, you still need to take a sweet time adjusting to his length.

irresistible tears roll down your face as he hits the back of your throat for the first few times, but you’re so determined to make him feel good. you began bobbing your head back and forth as your mouth slowly adjusted to his size.

“hmm, so good baby” he muffles weakly. “j-just like that” almost sounds as if he’s about to cry from the incredible sensation.

you can’t help but to release a quiet whine from hearing him. the steamy bathroom is filled with jungkook's angelic yet sinful groans, along with the sounds that’s being created as you which arouse you even more. he’s got your pussy clenching over nothing.

your bent knees on the cold and wet ground are starting to get tired, but you pay no attention to them. rather, you take him even more, until his tip hits the back of your throat. you continue to do it smoothly, using no hands.

you proceed to shift your attention to untouched balls. your tiny hand softly jerks off his length upward, as a trail of kisses made their way from the underside of his girthy and veiny cock to one of the oval-shaped organs. wet and loud smooches on jungkook’s sensitive skin turn to sloppy sucking. your mouth is so full of him. a mixture of his precum and saliva of yours covers your entire chin, even some of it drops on the ground.

this sequence stirs more moans from jungkook, but this time he gets louder and louder. his slender hands acts at its own and gather your length hair into a ponytail, just so he can manipulate your head, to use you however he pleases

Jungkook pulls your hair back, causing you to lose contact with the sac you were passionately lapping. he leads you mouth back to where it should give its focus to. his throbbing cock. once his dewy dick is shoved in you, he pushes your cock drunk head to take more of him. you obediently follow the flow of the hand guiding your head

“such a good girl” he grunts, throwing his head up in the air, then focusing back on you. “only for me”. your boyfriend is still controlling your head bobbing on his length.

“you’re such a slut for a fucking hello kitty, aren’t you?” jungkook mocks in between deep breaths. “me or that stupid kitty cat? huh?” thrusting his hips into your messy and well-fucked face.

you just moan against him, not even bothering to answer him because you’re too fucked, your tiny little brain is wearing out as you keep bouncing your head up and down. and also it might be because you know for a fact that you could be a slut for hello kitty too sometimes. you’re in no position to protest.

the man above you grips your hair even tighter, demanding you to answer him. “I wanna hear you baby”

“‘mmh you, o-only you koo,” you sob. lots and lots of tears coming out of your eyes. “all I want is you and this cock” you mewl weakly as you desperately lap his precious tip, just like how he loves it.

“that’s it, pretty girl, I'm cummin’” he verbalizes, grasping your head forcibly as slamming his pelvis into your abused mouth. to this point, you feel dizzy and your whole body is worn out. you grip into his beefy thighs as you allow him to utilize you like a slut.

“hmpp f-fuck” he moans loudly, releasing abundant strings of semen into your mouth. he cums so deep inside your throat. not wanting a drop to fall, you gobble up everything as your life depends on them.

after swallowing, you show him your empty mouth, with tongue being out. you can see in his half lidded eyes that he’s proud, giving you a soft smile.

you were about to get up when all of a sudden the dizzy spell hits you real hard, causing you to lose your balance but jungkook catches you before you can even fall.

“hey, you okay? Did I go too hard?” he locks his gaze upon you, hoping that you will lock yours to him too. but you didn’t as you are sobbing and trembling a little bit. jungkook wipes the dries tears on your swollen face with one hand while the other wraps around your waist. he might have gone harder than you can handle.

“baby look at me please? did I hurt you? i'm sor—“

“koo i’m okay” you faintly cut his sentence off. he doesn’t need to be sorry. “just need a few minutes to recover” you explain. jungkook immediately understands that. he gives you minutes of peaceful silence, with that, he takes care of washing your body. gently rubbing the pink loofah in your smooth skin as he hums the song that’s been stuck in your brain for quite a while.

after showering, he helps you slip on your baby pink dainty nightgown. this dress is special. jungkook got it for you when he flew abroad for one of his boxing competitions. one day, he and his team were strolling around the fancy mall when he passed by a cute local lingerie store that you will definitely check out, only if you were with him. of course, he chose to follow what his heart tells him to do, to go inside and find a thing or two to give you as soon as he comes home. to you.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

both yours and jungkook’s bodies are situated on your twin sized bed. in spite of the fact that there’s not much for the two of you and one of you might fall on the ground if another moves a little, it’s not a hurdle as you two embrace each other’s warmth as if there’s no tomorrow. two bodies comfortably embracing one another. tonight, you’re designated to be the tiny spoon

“ggukie..” you murmur, hot breath fanning against his bare chest. “hmm??” jungkook looks down to see what his princess needs.

“want your cock”you weakly pleaded, causing the man to slightly chuckle. you must be out of your mind.

“baby, your body is tired” said by him, shaking his head to show his disapproval. what a silly idea that goes around your mind when your eyes can barely open. you’re really out here doing everything but to sleep. he continues to caress your soft hair.

on a side note, you and jungkook never had penetrative sex before. yes, he eats you out here and there and vice versa. but he never dares to insert himself inside you.

indeed you’re a virgin but it’s not that you never wanted to. matter of fact you’ve made up your mind and are willing to give your virginity to him. jungkook is well aware of that. however, fear of hurting you always troubles him. he’s afraid that you will go through pain, scared that he’ll break you: his fragile pretty girl

“need your cock inside me” you continue to whine. “didn’t I show you a video of me from last week taking the toy you gifted me? you said I did so well” reminding him that one video clip of you masturbating to the pink rose you got from him. how could he forget about that when he uses it to get off every single night? with full on volume too, all ears concentrate on your high pitched moans, giving him more than the satisfaction he craves. the thoughts of that makes the lust that nearly vanishes inside him linger, you just never fail to get him arouse even before going to sleep.

however, jungkook is still in his right mind. “that’s different,” he argues. it’s valid to doubt that he’ll fit.

“ok then just put it in me then we can sleep?” you beg, attempting to compromise. “just wanna feel you close while I sleep. can you imagine how much I missed you?” you’ve come to an extent to use the guilt trip tool to convince him.

he understands the emotion you’re trying to make him feel as he looks into your bambi doe eyes. looking so innocent yet begging for his cock. evoking his guilt to get what you want. jungkook recognizes you in and out, you won’t take no for an answer. also it’s not like he’s not dying to do it, as if he doesn’t fantasize about it when you sleep over at his penthouse. the amount of self control he has..

you have him on a chokehold. jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he gently lifts up the arm which your head is laying on and slightly gets up to open the pink mini cabinet on top of your nightstand, taking out a sky blue container.

“here, apply it”, throwing the lube bottle on your lap.

you’re stunned, heart excitedly does jumping jacks inside your chest. next time it will be you doing jumping jacks on his di-

“cmon cutie I don’t have all night” he blurts, interrupting your thoughts. you never get up so fast in your nineteen years of living. he goes straight back to his original position, laid on his back. he may act chill,but he’s internally pleased and aroused.

as you go down on him (again), your two hands get a grip of the band of his black boxer and pull it down, his semi-hard cock immediately springs out. you can’t help but to give it a tiny peck before giving it a few strokes as you point it towards your lips

you open the bottle up with a pop, squirting out enough lube on your fingers before gently spreading it on his tip. he hisses as he feels the cold liquid substance being applied to him. you trace the sides of his length, ensuring the reduction of friction.

he grabs your arm, guiding your body to lay down sideways next to him. a tattooed veiny arm from behind snakes around your torso, clasping your upper body.

“ready?” he whispers, as he nibbles your ear. jungkook earns longingly nods from you, and for a split moment he spreads some liquid using his lubricated tip around your private area before slowly inserting it in. you discern the penetrating sensation in your core, which makes you purr.

he continues to penetrate inside you furthermore, causing you to close your eyes and tighten your clasp on his arms as you bear with the ache. he fully aware of how you’re feeling as he’s also having a hard time moving in.

“bare with me baby” tensely reassuring you. “so t-tight, fuck.” his other arm makes its journey below your nightgown, traveling its way to your perky breast, delicately squeezing one of them. jungkook does the same and gives the attention to the other one. simultanously, he plants a few smooches on the skin behind your ear, attemping to distract you from the pain. you quietly release moans and groans as he continues. he’s inches in when he feels your wall clenching around him.

your tight pussy becomes jungkook’s personal paradise. it’s the way your walls are clenching around him is better than he imagined; unmatched from all the fantasy he creates in his mind about you.

“koo.. “ your fingers tracing the veins on the back of his palm.

“what? my baby can’t handle it? tell me and I’ll stop” he softly asks. a tear just drops from you leg but you’re too tired to even react.

“n-no just stay inside, i’m sleepy” and with that, you instantly drift to sleep.

he hums, a hand that was busy playing on your chest shifts to caress your hair. jungkook lays one last kiss at your temple.

“goodnight to you too my pretty girl, love you so much”

series m.list

[brrrkdslek]

a moment of vulnerability

SYNOPSIS ✶ "nothing haunts us like the things we don't say." –unknown

PAIRING ✶ ateez x 9th member! male! reader

GENRE ✶ ot9 au, angst to comfort

WARNINGS ✶ trauma, deadbeat father, death

YINGLES' NOTE ✶ guess who's back after almost half a year lamaoaooa

it's practice time once again. you've- well, all of ateez have been darting all over the place from the company to interviews to music shows, and you haven't been able to catch a break.

you desperately want to calm the raging sea in your heart, but the other members have it hard as well, so what benefit would it bring if you were to vent and rant to anyone of the members?

not to mention how composed hongjoong and seonghwa has been, you can't fall behind them, you just can't.

so what you plan to do is just get it over with, hurry up with practice and go back to the dorms to finally rest on your nice and fluffy pillows.

"... and three, four and five- wooyoung, you're supposed to be over here." you mark blankly as you point to the left side behind you where an empty space was.

"oh, crap- sorry noona, i can't seem to get these steps right..." wooyoung chuckles dryly, trying to lighten up the mood despite your stern and unmoving expression.

"no, i feel you. noona, don't you think you should slow down a bit...?" san offered, not wanting to touch a nerve. "i agree," seonghwa piqued, "maybe we should take a break first, i think you need one too m/n."

the man smiled gently as the members all went over to the water bottles and began to drink their beverages. you tapped your feet against the floorboard and bit your nails, they've already became rough and callous from how much your teeth has been abusing them over the weeks.

"hyung? i just wanna ask-" yeosang cuts himself off when he sees you sweating profusely and lips becoming paler, "h-hey, you okay?" his face contorts into one of worry.

you came back to your senses before clearing your throat, "sorry yeo, what's— what did you need?" you ask again. "as i was saying..." yeosang begins slowly, though his expression holds one of worry and suspicion.

practice, shows, recording.

that's all you had to get done under this month, it's only started but you can't seem to relax. it's only three simple words but somehow you found the actions more complex and annoying. you also can't seem to focus on yeosang's question.

you began to sweat again as your heart rate sped up, why were you feeling so stressed? why are they all lounging as if we're on vacation?

you couldn't wrap your head around it, and you couldn't calm your raging breaths either. as yeosang waited for a response, his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he asks once again, waving a hand in front of your face.

the action makes your head spin even more. you wanted him to stop, your mouth opening and closing but no words come out. you felt a migraine slowly come but you just weren't able to find your voice.

suddenly you slap his hand away, the loudness of the skin collision makes yeosang shocked, along with the other members who turned their head upon the sound.

and for a moment, it was silent. everyone had the same thought running through their heads, including yours. 'he has never raises his hand against any of us.'

"fuck- sorry yeo, are you okay...?" you ask nervously as you reached out, only for the man to pull further back, the action alone makes your heart break, but further when his soft eyes stare at you in fear.

hongjoong steps up and pats yeosang's shoulder as his stinging hand falls to his side awkwardly, "hey, what's going on?" the man asks, not really able to comprehend the situation as of now.

your mind drifts back to an instagram reel you saw a few nights ago. 'the abused becomes the abuser', 'the manipulated becomes the manipulator'.

was that possible? were you really evolving- no, devolving, into him? that wretched man who clung to your blood like a parasite, the man that made you worse and better than you ever were before.

your fa- "hey m/n!" hongjoong snaps a finger in your face, bringing you back to reality. "what's going on? you okay? do you need something?" the bombard of questions makes your head spin.

you stumble back and hold onto the rail, surprising all the members as you began to pant, hand going to hold your head from your swirling thoughts.

stress, anxiety, worry.

stress, anxiety, worry.

stress, anxie- wait, are you even breathing? could you breathe? god, the air in here is so stuffy — the practice room was smaller than you imagined now that you looked at it seriously.

ugh, your stomach was churning really badly. did you even eat enough this morning? no- i mean how could you? how could you possibly stomach food when you're having a panic attack?

panic attack...?

you dry heaved before your hand comes up to cup over your mouth, eyes scanning the now blurry members who were slowly coming closer before you rushed out of the practice room and threw up in the middle of the hall by the wall.

you slid down on your knees your breakfast and all the bullshit you ate from yesterday hits the ground, leaving your stomach empty, just like your head now.

you wiped the spit from your lips and swallowed, the bitter taste of barf filling your tongue as your face cringes and mind swirling.

upon seeing the figures of your members rushing towards the hallway, your eyes gave out before you passed out onto the ground.

enveloped in darkness, you saw a silhouette of a woman, your mother. you could always recognise her from anywhere, not because of the pink she always adorned — well, maybe. but you could never perfectly describe the reason why.

everyone's always complimented how similar you two looked, and you always became happy when that comment came.

you wanted to be just like her — so you grew out your hair, changed your personality and acted in line. that wasn't the real reason, but it was what you told your members.

maybe it was because deep in the back of your mind, you knew the blood of your deadbeat father ran in your blood, and that there was a possibility- even if it was 1%, that you would end up like him.

you hated the revelation, so in your delusion, you changed yourself, not for the better, but not for the worse either. still, you didn't know.

blood determines nothing. that is a fact itself with the way your father acts and treats you. in his eyes, you are nothing but scum. despite holding the family name and are able to pass the bloodline, he hated you and you never knew why.

though as you grew older, the more he'd raise his hand at you and hold violence as a more superior solution than anything else, that was his way, and you hated it to the bone.

your position now as an idol determines nothing either, it's not guaranteed. no matter how good of a company you come from, a little slip up could let decades of hard work spill down the drain.

just like your little hoobae seunghan, poor boy. he had so much waiting for him just to get thrown out last minute, you weren't sure why but you felt it would happen to you eventually.

maybe because it has happened to you already — not in the exact same way, but gosh did it leave the same traumatic scar it probably left seunghan too.

you wanted to become a writer, a famous one at that. you found comfort in the little letters you'd write on your notebook, creating different stories and scenarios that filled your heart with ease.

your mother was supportive and loved to read some of the short fictions you'd let her read. always giving you that sweet pat on the head and telling you how proud she was.

you looked up to her, amazed at how perfectly she held herself, despite the familial environment your father put you guys through.

but you found out she wasn't as strong as you thought, when she killed herself in the summer of 2012, when you were only 13 year old.

after then, you stopped writing all together. her words suddenly becoming empty when you thought back to it; if she could lie about her feelings, she could lie about her words too.

you never realised, but the pent up hatred for your mother was never hatred in the first place. you only ever felt guilty for not being mature enough for her to express her deepest feelings to you, even if you were only 13.

suddenly, your eyes shot open as a tear rolled down your temple from where you laid. you glanced around the room and recognised it to be your own, with an iv drip connecting to your arm.

before long, jongho comes in with a glass of water and almost drops it when you wake up. he places the glass down gently before sitting at your side.

his eyes are full of worry as they dart all over you, thinking about what to do or say. "jjongie..." you started, though you let out a few coughs at how dry your throat have gotten.

jongho immediately helps you sit up and drink the water, downing the whole glass in one go, almost making the maknae crack a smile if not for your worrying condition.

as he placed the glass down, the man sighs. "...are you ever gonna tell us what happened back there?" he asks slowly, almost sounding ashamed that's the first thing he says to you since you woke up.

but you only blinked before turning to stare up at the ceiling, "eventually, yeah— but what day is it?" you ask instinctively, feeling as if along time had passed.

"it's been a day..." the man replied with a gulp, remembering how fearful all the members were when the doctor says you'll be resting for a while.

you hummed and opened your mouth to speak before your door practically breaks down with the way wooyoung rushed in with tears in his eyes.

"HYUNG!" the man-baby exclaims as he kneels by your bedside and wails on your lap, "oh my god, you're alive!" he cries like a baby as yunho flicks his head, "hey don't jinx it."

a tiny smile graces your lips as you gently ran your fingers through the man's hair, bringing him ever-lasting comfort, just like how your mother has always made you feel.

in just a second, all the members have successfully poured into your room like roaches. and as you caught yeosang, he comes closer at your silent gesture.

"are you still hurt?" you ask slowly as your free hand caressed the back of his hand, where you'd slap. you knew it didn't hurt, the man could carry two of you without breaking a sweat.

but you just felt like you should ask, you know you should — you knew mother would've asked if it was here, and the thought alone makes a small smile creep up your lips.

"i'm okay, but are you?" he asks as he takes your hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly, "i think so." you chuckle, suddenly feeling so warm just with the upbeat chattering of your members.

you sigh shakily before bringing yeosang close and hugging the man in your arms. you gently raked your fingers through his hair as your eyes watered.

"hyung's sorry, i never meant to hurt you..." you whispered shakily, the guilt of that painful face yeosang made a day ago making your chest tighten.

the man simply smiled shyly and hugs back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he replies in a muffled voice. "it's okay, noona. i know you didn't mean it..."

hearing the common nickname of 'noona' makes you release the breath you didn't know you were holding as you sniffled gently before kissing the man's temple.

mingi chuckles, "guys, look at yeosang blush." wooyoung raises his head from where his tears stained your lap before he snorted, "he's bright red!"

yeosang blushes harder and yanks himself away from you in embarrassment. "am not! your eyes are redder than mine, you're the one who's crying like a little kid."

you smile upon the familiar scene of the boys bickering and bantering amongst each other, it's refreshing, seeing your members so relaxed and happy.

hongjoong sitting at your side catches your attention before you turn back towards him with a kind smile and he smiles back, what a captain.

"you don't have to tell us what's going on, but just know that we're here for you if you ever need us." he marks before grasping your hand and intertwining your fingers without anyone noticing.

"even though i'd like it to be only me," the man jokes, making you snort softly, "everyone else here loves you just the same, so don't keep everything bottled up."

a sudden laugh leaves your lips as the members go silent, turning to watch you with curiosity as you laugh your heart out, warming their hearts as well.

'if only mother had been surrounded by this much love back then, maybe she would've been able to see me grow into the writer she hoped i'd become.'

©BRRRKDSLEK 2024

[east-from-west]

,,Family, Luke. You promised.''

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

The Lightning Thief fight/betrayal scene, rewritten.

TW// minor depictions of blood and violence, one curse word.

(A/N) It's a mix of the show/book. This is not a slash fic. Percy and Luke are both 12 and 19 respectively. All affection expressed is platonic. Please don't read as slash.

𓇼 🌊 🐚(Villains and violence/Infants and innocents/Baby, both arms cradle you now/both arms cradle you now) ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆

Luring a 12 year old into the woods with Coke. Gods, Luke felt like a monster.

"Come on," Luke grinned as convincingly as he could, "drinks are on me." Luke held up the six pack of Coke. He hoped his face didn't betray his intentions. Luke could see the wary look in Percy's eyes begin to fade. Sugar and caffeine was any ADHD kid's weakness.

"Sure." Percy nods. "Why not?"

'Why not'. What a question. 'Because I'm about to hurt you,' Luke thought bitterly, his smile twisting into more of a grimace that was trying to pass as a smile.

They walked down to the creek were Percy had broken Clarisse's spear. Killing the kid in the spot of one of his first victories made that small part of Luke ache even more. Something in him screams to turn back now, to go shoo the kid off to the training arena or his cabin and just leave. Leave, leave now and not hurt him more than the world already had.

Unfortunately, Kronos' order was clear.

Percy yapped about the quest while sipping his Coke, so blissfully unaware of what's about to happen.

What Luke is about to do to him.

"You sound like you miss it." Luke comments, trying to keep his tone light, but a hint of bitterness seeped in, like a dark cloud marring an otherwise sunny sky.

"With monsters trying to kill me every five seconds?" Percy scoffed, but he didn't sound particularly opposed to it. Luke raised a brow. "Okay, yeah," Percy crumbled and admits with a small grin, "You?"

Luke drained the rest of his coke before answering, looking off into the trees with darkened eyes. "I've lived here year round since I was fourteen. Trained and trained and trained, never really got to be a normal teen out in the world." He shrugged. Luke continued before Percy could respond.

"Then they tossed me one quest and that was it. 'Good job, Luke. Ride's over, have a good rest of your life.'" Luke crumpled the can and tossed it into the creek. Percy gave him a shocked look.

You don't litter at Camp Halfblood. The nymphs and naiads make that clear, with their little revenges on the careless campers who cluttered their homes with garbage. Not that Luke really had to worry about that anymore.

"To hell with it all. I'm not going to be a pawn reduced to a dusty trophy in the Big House attic." Luke said darkly, staring at the crumpled can in the water.

"You make it sound like you're leaving." Pecy comments, voice a very forced casual. Underneath the veil, Luke could hear a bit of trepidation and disappointment in the kid's voice.

Percy didn't want him to leave. Percy thought Luke was his friend, he didn't want his friend to leave.

Luke finally looked back over at Percy, trying for a smile but ending with a twisted grimace.

"I am." He said simply. "So this is goodbye." His tone was dark, colder. Colder than only Luke could be.

Something in Percy's eyes shifted. "Oh gods."

Luke almost couldn't, with Percy's small and horrified realization.

''You will be betrayed by someone who calls you a friend.''

"I-it was you! Luke, it was you?" His blue eyes widened. "You stole the bolt, you worked with Ares to pin it on me!" Percy's hand reached for his sword. "S-so when the shoes you gave me would pull me down into Tartarus, the bolt would be delivered straight to Kro--"

"Careful with names, Percy." Luke cut him off sharply. Percy took a step back, eyes wide with betrayal.

"I am your friend, none of this was to betray you." Luke lied, stepping forward with his hands raised placatingly. Percy uncapped Riptide, clutching the holt tightly. Luke drew Backbiter in kind.

No doubt the kid had gotten better with his sword, and Luke wouldn't be caught unarmed. "Easy. I dont wanna fight. The gods are my enemy, Percy, our enemy." Luke's tone turned soft, like he was speaking to an upset child. "You, I'm here to recruit."

"Recruit?" Percy repeated in disbelief. Luke turned the hilt of Backbiter to show him a glowing blue symbol.

"This is our way out of here. Backbiter can open dorrways, we can stay on the move for however long--"

"Don't say we." Percy cuts him off. "Luke," his voice turned a bit pleading, "The Gods are our parents."

"And what? I'm supposed to love them because of that?" Luke scoffs harshly. "They're bad parents. All they want is for us to worship them and do all their little 'quests'. Their dirty work." He spits.

Percy shook his head, "I met your dad--"

That's all it took. Luke swung his sword, only to be caught by Riptide in very hasty parry. Luke slashed downwards, only for the swords to meet in an engagement. Luke couldn't help but grin.

"You have gotten better. Last chance."

Percy freed Riptide from the engagement and kicked Luke's shin to make him stumble. The older swordsman kept his footing and swung at Percy's head, meeting air as Percy ducked and slashed at Luke's ribs.

Luke gasped and turned away, holding the already bloody cut. Percy froze. "I'm sorry--" His voice cracked out, reaching out for Luke's arm.

Luke hissed and swung around, bearing his blade down hard and cutting Percy's sword arm deep. The 12 year old cried out and stumbled back to the ground, breath knocked from his lungs.

Percy scrambled back, panting in pain and fear as Luke approached his fallen figure, eyes dark with vitrol and violence.

"Luke..." Percy gasped quietly, voice breaking as tears stung the back if his eyes, both from the pain in his arm and the pain of the betrayal. He looked like a rabit cornered as a wolf closed in.

Luke raised Backbiter for one final and silencing blow. Percy yelped and raised a hand to protect his head.

Luke froze, eyes clearing to take in the sight in front if him. Percy, bleeding and panicked on the ground, fighting tears as his blue eyes gazed up at Luke in terror.

He looked like Thalia. Oh gods.

Oh Gods.

Luke truly was a monster, wasn't he?

Luke swallowed back the nausea that suddenly rose in his throat, arm shaking, still poised to strike.

"Luke..." Percy repeats, voice trembling. "I-I know this isn't you. This isn't you, please fight it." He begged, voice cracking again.

'Do it, do it now, he's defenseless, do it, do i--' the voice in Luke's head screamed in futility. Luke dropped his arm, sword falling from his hand as he stepped back.

Luke was a monster. He'd have killed Percy. He'd have killed this poor kid who'd only wanted his mom back from the Gods in the first place.

Luke clamped a hand over his mouth to stave off the rolling sick feeling, tears welling in his own eyes.

Percy didn't ask for any of this. He'd just wanted his mom back.

He just wanted his mom back.

Luke knew the feeling.

"Oh gods, I--" Luke choked, eyes falling to Percy's arm. The cut was deep, already soaking the torn fabric of Percy's flannel. "Ohhh Gods." The older boy felt panic squeeze his chest.

What was he doing?

Something dark and hateful in Luke's heart crumbled, and his head cleared. He kicked away Backbiter and knelt next to Percy. The boy flinched, still obviously scared of Luke.

"Hey, hey, let me see." Luke said gently, voice oh so soft. He gently took Percy's arm, pulling him into a sitting position and nudging Percy's hand away from the wound.

By now, Percy was stunned into utter silence, fat tears still rolling down his cheeks. Luke looked at the cut, gently pulling the flannel off his shoulder and arm. The cut was deep, irritated with red still dripping out of it. Luke felt the rolling feel of panic and sick double down in his gut.

"Oh gods, Percy, Perce, I am so sorry--" Luke's voice broke into a barely concealed sob. He cupped a hand to Percy's cheeks, wiping a tear with his thumb, smearing a streak of red there. "We're going to move over to the creek, okay? Water helps, right? It'll help."

Percy nodded numbly, holding onto Lukes shirt as the older teen dragged him down into the pebbly bank of the small stream. The water instantly flowed up Percy's arm, stitching flesh skin back together and washing away the blood. Despite this, there was still a narly scar left behind.

Left by Luke's own hand. Oh Gods. Oh gods, oh gods--

Did Luke hate the Gods more than he had cared about Percy's life? About Grover's, or even Annabeth's--

His heart squeezed in his chest and he coughed out a sob, pulling Percy in close. "I am so, so sorry. I swear on the styx, I am so sorry--" He mumbled into Percy's damp curls, feeling the younger demigod shake against his chest, hands gripping the back of Luke's shirt like a lifeline.

How much a villian Luke was, to be willing to kill this innocent kid.

Kid, Percy was a kid. Only 12, still practically a baby. Not at all old enough for his level of violence. Especially from the hand of someone who called him a ""friend.""

Luke wrapped his arms around Percy tight, one hand cradling the back of his head. "I've got you, I've got you. I am so sorry, I won't hurt you anymore." Luke whispered into Percy's curls, kissing his head.

"Promise? You promise?" Percy whispered, voice hoarse and utterly exhausted.

"I... I promise. I promise, I swear on the Styx, on my life," Luke swore. "Family. I promise."

Family. Percy slumps into Luke, exhausted and all the fight drained from him.

Luke cradled him close, holding him safe to his chest.

Family. Luke promised.

[inlovewithpandora]

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Started - 4/6/23 || Last Updated - 8/29/23 || Total Works - 31

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Omatikaya

▸ Jake Sully

▸ Neytiri Sully

▸ Neteyam Sully

▸ Kiri Sully

▸ Lo’ak Sully

▸ Tuktirey Sully

▸ Tsu’tey

▸ Sully Family

Metkayina

▸ Tonowari

▸ Ronal

▸ Tsireya

▸ Ao’nung

▸ Rotxo

▸ Ralak

Inspiration from: @teyamsbitch

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[cocrante]

#13 Bed Sharing

[flufftober 2023]

note: initially, there were two other oneshots on the list (found family - confession), but let's say I had already written a little something about them and for this occasion I'm exploring different scenarios to decide whether to incorporate them into the fanfiction or not :)

tag: @choicesprompts

THE FOOD WAS EXQUISITE, and so was the wine. If he continued to indulge him with all those aromas, flavors, and sugary phrases while serving, he would never be able to tell him "no". Not that this was a bad thing after all, he didn't just want to give him that feeling of control over his life, he hoped to continue to be wrapped in that subtle veil of mystery that still surrounded him, even though it seemed to be getting thinner, and his defenses were slowly coming down.

Maybe it was the wine that was dulling his senses, making him feel lighter, exposed, vulnerable. But in that house, in the company of his lover, there were no dangers. It was fine like this, he could handle another glass of wine, paired with the delicate fragrance of the new dish he had served. The steam tickled him, the spices were a sensual delight that enveloped him with every bite, and the meat was among the softest and most delicate he had ever tasted. The man sitting in front of him had truly peculiar manners, but when he entered the kitchen, he transformed every ingredient into a symphony of flavors, carefully layering and pairing them, creating a story on his palate. That evening, he was tasting the symphony of winter. Assuming winter had a melody or a taste. The only taste that came to Neuvillette's mind when thinking of winter was sugar, but these dishes were all savory, warm, and comforting foods. It was the flavor of people at home, wrapped in blankets as the night descended outside. He would never get enough of those dishes, of the food that left him feeling content and elated. Yet, happiness wasn't solely a result of those dishes, but also of the company and complicity that had developed with the man who had prepared them. During daylight hours, it seemed impossible to him that an old man could still experience such emotions, thinking they were a privilege of young boys who experiment with their peers. He had already had his dose of adventures, he was no longer a young and inexperienced boy. His life had been generous at times, and those memories were just that: memories. So why, in the evening when that man was at home, did he feel like he was burning as if he were a third of his age? He still felt like a schoolboy dealing with his first crush, with the only difference being that there were no more mysteries, and everything was clear now. It was tender of the man giving him a second chance, giving him a new love, more warmth, and kindness that he believed would no longer be a part of his life, nor would he have to deserve them anymore. Hoping deep down that it wasn't too hasty to think this, but he felt genuine feelings for the man who had reignited his life. It was probably too early to talk about love, even though perhaps it was so for the other, but for Neuvillette it was romantic affection. At the moment, it was all he could grant and give, and he knew that Wriothesley was fine taking it slow. Both were no longer young, his man also had a daughter, and they had their fair share of youthful escapades. So what was wrong with taking it all lightly? And enjoying the simplicity of their relationship.

Smiling, he reached out his hand, intertwining his fingers with those of his lover. "Thank you for inviting me" Neuvillette said, gazing affectionately at the man. "You are and will always be welcome" he replied, playing with his fingers as well. "Did you enjoy it?" he asked, noticing that the plate was practically empty. "It was all delicious. How do you make everything taste so good?" he inquired, even though he didn't think he'd get an answer. However, Wriothesley smiled. "Honey makes everything better" he stifled a laugh. "Honey?" a note of incredulity escaped his lips. "Yes, sir" he confirmed. "It draws out the subtlest aromas and nuances of the herbs" he explained, closing his hand over his companion's as if it were a treasure chest closing around its treasure. "It's also an excellent carrier for them, it moves through the meat fibers more gracefully than salt" he continued, although his attention was on the man's hand, caressing the delicate skin with care and attention, leaving Neuvillette only time to breathe with desire, biting his lips still flavored with the taste of the meat. That man enchanted him with every move, word, gesture, he was speechless in his presence, and it wasn't the wine's fault. Whatever he asked, he would have answered yes. "I hope you have some room left for dessert" with that sentence, Neuvillette was brought back to reality. "If you don't mind, I wanted to experiment a little" he kissed his hand, taking his leave for a moment, disappearing into the kitchen, leaving him alone at the table to compose himself. He nervously passed his hands over his cheeks, which felt warm and undoubtedly embarrassed. That man knew exactly what to say and do to have free access to both his heart and soul. He was succeeding, but Neuvillette wasn't stopping him. He wanted to play that masochistic game of languid glances, caresses, and small provocations as well. Although between the two of them, he would certainly be the first to give in, not that it was a bad thing. Many times, Wriothesley had told him that in life, everyone deserves a second chance to love again, and he said it himself, even though he was a divorced dad with a job that occupied most of his life. Yet, he was giving himself a new chance to love and be loved. It shouldn't be the opposite for Neuvillette either. But sometimes, the guilt for a nonexistent betrayal devoured him, still too bound and tied to the shadow of the man who had filled his past. He was caressed by that sweet memory, it wasn't wrong to turn the page. It was right to seek refuge, comfort, and even new love in the arms of others. At the end of that thought, the chef returned to the table with two delightful white plates, each holding a fragrant little cake topped with a whole peeled pear. It was interesting, certainly delicious. The knife sliced through it as if it were made of foam, and the taste of the wine in which the pear was soaked didn't diminish its sweetness but rather enhanced it. And the cake on which it lay wasn't chocolate as his eyes had deceived him, it was something else, sweet, aromatic, fruity—a spice he couldn't quite grasp. After all, he barely used the supermarket's rosemary; everything else was alchemy. But that delicious cake spoke for itself. If winter had a symphony, it was enclosed in those dishes, and if love had a taste, it was encapsulated in the tenderness of that little cake.

After the delicious dinner, he helped him clear the table even though Wriothesley had told him there was no need, but he felt obliged to lend a hand. In the kitchen, washing the dishes, they had fun like two children, playing with the foam and the splashing water droplets. The dinner had been perfect, the company even better, but everything has an end, and so did this magical evening.

"Maybe it's the wine speaking for me, but I feel intoxicated when I'm in your company" Neuvillette laughed, holding his hands, just a few steps from the front door.

"If you're so intoxicated, why don't you stay with me tonight?" Wriothesley murmured, moving closer, playing with those fingers he wanted to feel on his cheek.

"It's only a few steps, I can go home by myself" he smiled, secretly wanting to stay and remain there forever.

"I would like you to stay" he kissed his wrist, his eyes never leaving the man's.

"Are you perhaps taking advantage of an old drunk gentleman?" he laughed to himself, drawing near and pressing himself against the body he was now desiring and burning for, suppressing a sigh when the man's lips touched the hollow of his neck. "I could and I'd eagerly do so" he replied to the teasing, moving his lips up to his ear. "But I just want you to stay" he whispered, making himself let go and taking him by both hands, kissing them like lovers do. "You're being unfair" he complained, eager to have those lips on his skin and feel his flesh against his. "You're right" he smiled, aware that he had dared too much and had also aroused himself. "As punishment, I'll keep you in my bed, so I can be embraced by the most beautiful man in all of Paris and the rest of the world" he caressed his face, adoring that so resentful and frowning expression.

"It seems like a victory for you rather than a punishment" he grumbled, playing along with their absurd game.

"Do you agree to stay?" he asked with a candid and hopeful voice, playing with the fingers of his lover's hands. Neuvillette bit his lip, knowing he couldn't deny anything to the man who had managed to capture his heart. "I agree to stay" he granted, moving closer to give him another kiss, and then another again.

[CONTENTS]

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 13

↬ masterlist

[miyamoratsumuu]

I feel like I should put up a warning that I'm like in the top 5 most impulsive tumblr posters out there

[asvterias]

AWWW I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS ADDIE!!! ❤️😍🫶🏾

Sad Girl

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: being a mistress on the side might not appeal to fools like you…

a/n: i love this song i love this fic i love this idea and most importantly i love my brain you are all very welcome <3

Sad Girl - Lana Del Rey

warnings: not proofread, secret relationship, player!clarisse, possessive!clarisse, kinda asshole!clarisse, she’s such a BITCH like you are not all that…. (i’m lying.), the usual swearing and demigod stuff, kinda like lmlylaw friends w benefits kinda thing except they’re both actually in love with each other, again NO SMUT!!!!! THERE IS NO SMUT!!!!!! THEY JUST MAKE OUT AND LIKE SLEEP IN THE SAME BED, again… i’m sorry the nightmare trope you can’t escape it. you can’t….., tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Her hands are always everywhere.

She’s fast and agile, quick like a fox you sometimes see roaming around the woods, so she can jump from one spot to another. You’re supposed to have specific spots on your body, pressure points or whatever, that make you feel good.

When you’re with Clarisse, wherever her hands are lights on fire. You crave her all the time, the burn she makes you feel, the burn you know you make her feel- you’re pretty sure if she hovered her hand over your arm, your skin would find someway to grow and touch her.

You crave her, like a cigarette and the smell of the smoke, no matter how sad she makes you.

How can you be sad that you’re just one of her girls when at least you’re her girl?

How can you be sad when you get to wrap your hands around her forearms, feelings her muscles flex with the effort of moving to your waist, your hips, behind, the sides of your chest- everywhere.

How can you be sad when her lips are on yours, when your teeth are clashing together? Clarisse doesn’t kiss you slow. Clarisse doesn’t savor you. She eats you like you’re the first course of 12, a kiss full of greed and gluttony. Clarisse doesn’t kiss you like it might be the last time, because you both know you’ll always come running back to each other.

You’re the only girl she runs back to, out of all the flings that last a few days, the one nights kissing between cabins at bonfires- you’re the only one she lets into her room, into her bed. You don’t know why she comes back to you. Maybe it’s the way you bite your fingers to keep from moaning, maybe it’s the way you do moan when you’re finally away from everyone else, maybe it’s the way you thread your fingers in her hair or trace your nails along her muscles.

You don’t know why, but you know you love it, so you keep doing what you’re doing and say a prayer each time she leaves.

You don’t know why Clarisse keeps coming back. You don’t know why you keep coming back. You may be a sad girl, but at least you’re her sad girl.

“Gods, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ thing,” she mumbles, finally pulling away to catch her breath. You don’t really care about breathing right now, just her, so you bite your lip and resist the urge to pout.

“I know,” you say back. “But thank you.”

She chuckles, shaking her head lightly, her hand cupping your face as she kisses your jaw, her other hand holding up the leg that’s wrapped around her waist. You lean back against the bathroom stall until she’s breathing in your mouth again, drawing you back down to her with a hand around your neck.

She kisses you slow, hard and deep, finally giving you what you want- a glimpse of what could be. It’s bittersweet, because she kisses you like she really cares about you for just for second- and then you’re left waiting for her until she calls again. She kisses you for a long time like this.

But still, you resist the urge to chase her as she pulls away.

You breathe out, standing on your own two feet again, smoothing down your outfit and fixing your hair. She clicks open the door, hand against the small of your back as she urges you out of the stall.

There’s no one in here- this bathroom is always empty at this time of day, facts you’ve come to know due to your secret meetings.

You walk over to the sink, turning it on and running your hands under the cold water. You bring them up to your hot cheeks, trying in vain to pretend you’re not so affected by her, even when she was just pressing her hand against your cheek a second ago.

Maybe the reason Clarisse comes back to you is because you don’t ask when you’re going to see her again. You won’t say “see you tomorrow?” with a sheepish, hopeful smile on your face like you’re sure the other girls do.

“Bye,” you smile, and she hums, she doesn’t stop you from leaving.

—-

Clarisse moves like she has complete trust in the air.

She’s bold, especially when she fights, jabs forward and somehow manages to catch herself each time, even if she throws all her weight into a particularly hard thrust of her spear. The ground is often littered with holes from either ends of her spears, constantly putting it out to catch herself.

But it’s more than that.

She moves like she just won’t allow herself to fall, like she knows it’s simply impossible for her to fall.

You watch her now, admiring, really, the way she moves so confidently, so sure, so proud- she’s an unstoppable force, and there’s no object she can’t move.

She moves you, biting your lip as the muscles in her arm tense, fingertips drumming against the length of her spear.

She moves her sibling to the ground with a kick to their chest, and they slam down with a groan. She laughs, smiling triumphantly at another easy win- she hasn’t even broken a sweat.

“I hate you, Clarisse,” her sibling groans, but accepts her hand and let’s her tug them up. She grins, wiping dirt off of her spear.

“What’s that? Win number… 8,000? Somewhere around there.”

“Oh, fuck off, we both know you don’t have the brain power to keep track.”

“Oh, you’re so mean,” she says, rolling her eyes and hitting her sibling’s shoulder.

Someone taps your leg.

“You’re drooling.”

“No, ‘m not,” you huff.

“You are,” your best friend and half-sibling, Kaelyn, reaffirms. She pokes at your chin. “Right there.”

You resist the urge to wipe your chin.

“You just don’t get her like I do.”

“I don’t,” Kaelyn laughs, and the two of you watch as Clarisse winks at another girl. “Does it not bother you? You’re, like, literally just her toy.”

“Bitch,” you mumble, slamming your leg into hers. “It’s not that, though. Besides, why would I care? You help me sneak out almost every other night, Kay. I’m going to see her, because she asked.”

“Okay, so, if Clarisse started making out with that girl right now- you wouldn’t mind?”

“We’re not actually dating, so I don’t have any right to be jealous.”

“But you still are?” Kaelyn probes. “Just because you aren’t dating doesn’t mean you don’t still care about her like you are.”

You think about Clarisse so much you’re surprised the image of her isn’t branded behind your eyelids. You think about the way she touches you, the way she kisses you, but you also think about the way it could be. You think about the way that sometimes, just for a second, her hands will linger and she’ll breathe in deeply like you are all she’s ever wanted in life.

Of course you’re in love with Clarisse- she has a fire inside of her, some part of her soul that matches with yours, and you’re inexplicably drawn to her and everything about her.

But Clarisse doesn’t want you like that. She just wants the fun- and maybe you should wait for someone else who will actually love you, but she’s the best you’ve ever had. You haven’t even had anyone else, but you already know. You know no one else can make you feel the way she does.

You sit up straighter, ignoring the feeling of Kaelyn’s eyes burning holes into you.

“She’s ridiculously hot, a great kisser, and she gives me the time of day. That’s all I care about.”

“Okay,” Kaelyn hums, mercifully deciding to drop the subject.

And when your eyes inevitably roll back over to Clarisse and the other girl- she’s looking at you.

—-

You love Fridays.

You associate Fridays with the weekly camp bonfire, the smell of smoke and the laughter of your friends, marshmallows and the promise of a late morning the next day.

More importantly, you associate Friday nights with Clarisse’s bed.

She confessed to you once that she doesn’t really like the campfire and just goes to keep up appearances, maybe find someone, but now she has you. You come every Friday with no intention of staying long, wearing shirts you know will make Clarisse look at you- until she meets your eyes and silently demands you meet her at her cabin, or she just comes up behind you and grabs you.

However you end up there, you end up in her bed.

You’re sure tonight will be no different- you hope it’s no different, because you’re still a girl with needs and you haven’t seen her all week.

She’s the first thing you see when you get there.

Her and her siblings always occupy the best spot by the fire, so the flames dance along her face, and you can’t help but frown when you realize she’s already scanning the crowd.

“I assume you need me to cover for you tonight?” Kaelyn asks, arm linked with yours.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, feeling slightly dejected. She was probably looking for someone else- she doesn’t want you tonight, even though it’s become an unspoken tradition.

This is your mistake. Expecting something from Clarisse. You can’t do that, not when you know her, not if you don’t want this arrangement to wreck you.

And when you find the strength to look back towards her, her spot on the log is empty. She must have found someone else she likes the look of.

“Hey,” Kaelyn says, nothing the way you cross your arms over the shirt you wore for Clarisse- it feels worthless now. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you breathe. “It’s fine. Just sucks, y’know.”

Kaelyn presses her lips into a thin line. “Yeah, I guess.”

She wants to say more. Ask why you do this to yourself, you know she wants to knock some sense into you- but you know that as much as this moment hurts, it will feel 10 times better to have her in your arms again when she comes back.

“Babe,” Kaelyn sighs, putting her arm on your shoulder-

“Y/N.”

Clarisse’s arm slides around your waist, moving you into her and away from Kaelyn with enough force so her hand slides off of you.

Kaelyn looks at you with wide eyes, and you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing. Her arm feels so good around you, so perfect, like it was made to be there.

“Thanks… Kayla,” Clarisse fake smiles, her fingertips digging into your sides. “I’ll take it from here.”

“O-okay,” Kaelyn says, sort of blankly, like she’s in shock- this is probably the first time she’s talked to Clarisse, or even seen her up close.

Clarisse drags you off, squeezing your waist tightly once- almost enough to hurt.

“What’s wrong, Clarisse?” you ask, putting your hand over hers- feeling like her nails might rip holes into your shirt.

“Sorry,” she breathes after a second, taking her arm completely away from you- a loss you mourn heavily. “My siblings were annoying me all fuckin’ day. And then they forced me to come early, and I was waiting for you and you came late.”

The sun only just started it’s descent 30 minutes ago, but you can tell there’s something more going on with Clarisse, so you choose to just placate her dramatics.

You loop both of your arms through hers, pressing close so your hip-to-hip, leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, simply.

“‘S okay,” she mutters, and you resist the urge to kiss her pouty face.

—-

At the back of each cabin, built into the wall right next to the bathroom, there’s a separate room for the camp counselor. It’s small, but private- a regular bed, a small dresser, and a desk. Some decorate, Clarisse left hers plain except for spots for her spear and other weapons to hang proudly on the wall.

You’ve come to love the sight of the four beige walls, grown used to the feeling of sneaking out the window, thanking the Gods it’s on the first floor.

The door shuts behind you, Clarisse pressing her back against it. Immediately, you slip off your shoes, crossing the room to sit on her bed.

“Come here and tell me your woes,” you joke, but her face is twisted into something painful, so the smile on your face falls as well. “Hey? Did something seriously happen, Clarisse?”

She locks the door and walks over to you, standing in between your legs, tilting your chin up so she can stare into your eyes.

“You can tell me,” you say, knowing you would feel like an asshole if you didn’t at least try. But you know she won’t talk to you- sometimes you talk, one Friday nights, sometimes you just lay next to each other and ask each other random questions- but you know tonight is not one of those nights.

“No,” she mutters. “I can’t.”

She leans down, her lips millimeters from yours. She’s so close it’s like she’s filling up all of your senses, until all you can think about is her. But you’re used to feeling like this around her. You love it. You let your guard down and you let it in, you welcome it.

“Why?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

She smiles, her lip quirking up just slightly.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” she breathes, before her lips finally crash down onto yours.

The rest of the night is exactly what you expected. You roll around and she touches you everywhere, touches you in places you didn’t even know could feel so good. She lights you up, she makes you feel black and white. She makes you feel so simple, it all narrows down to her and her body, her lips.

And when it’s over, when you fix your messy hair and lay your head on her pillow- you don’t know what she’ll do.

You’re both too tired to sneak out, and you like to think that Clarisse secretly likes the sleepovers. Sometimes she doesn’t even touch you, seems repulsed- usually the nights when you kiss slow and then you talk.

But tonight was all fury and desire, fire in your stomach and in her eyes. So she holds you against her, chest pressed to your back. You play with her long fingers, she lets you crack them and stretch them- it’s the one time she lets someone else move her around, you think. Her arm is limp around you, her hand totally at your will.

“Do you ever think about the future?” you ask her. It’s fun to ask her real questions like this. It’s fun to get a glimpse inside of her mind, small moments like this when she holds you. “Not, like, tomorrow, but after camp. College. After college.”

She hums.

“No. I don’t.”

“Why?” you’re pushing, now, but you don’t care.

“I don’t think I’ll have much of a future, really. Ares kids go on big quests and they die horribly. That’s what’ll probably happen to me.”

“That’s morbid,” you chuckle. “There’s people who would miss you, though. I would miss you. Who else would kiss me in the smelly bathrooms?”

“You don’t want anyone else to kiss you in the smelly bathrooms.”

She tenses, like she didn’t mean to say that and she just blurted it out.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you whisper, voice small. But it’s true. You don’t.

She relaxes back against you and you don’t push anymore, you let her drift off, her breathing slow.

Eventually, after you get bored of staring at the moon in the window, you turn around so you’re facing her. She shuffles a bit, but you just move her arm back around you, thinking she’s asleep.

And after a few minutes of you laying there silently, you feel her move. You’re so close to her you can hear her eyelashes flutter.

She makes an appreciative sound in the back of her throat, tightening her arm around you and drawing you closer. When you unwillingly flinch at the feeling of her warm hand sliding under your shirt, she shushes you.

“Don’t wake up,” she whispers, the softest you’ve ever heard her speak. You don’t wake up. You pretend you’re asleep, you pretend you don’t feel her, pretend you don’t care about the connotation of her softness. You pretend it doesn’t make your heart squeeze in what will never be, in what now is only the fruition of sleep and the comfort and privacy of darkness. “Mhm, stay asleep, baby.”

She kisses your nose, her hand scratches your back, the bare skin.

“Always so cold,” she breathes, “Always so pretty.”

And suddenly her breathing evens out and she’s asleep again.

—-

The next few days you pretend nothing is different. You pretend you didn’t hear her call you pretty and baby, feel her kiss your nose. You chalk it up to her frustration from the day finally disappearing in your arms and the fact she was half asleep.

She’s called you pretty before. She’s called you baby before. You’re sure she’s kissed your nose before and commented on the fact you run so cold compared to her running hot.

You don’t even tell Kaelyn about it, although you’re sure she notices a difference in you- it feels like you’re constantly removed. Constantly thinking about that one minute where she thought you were asleep.

Maybe the reason you don’t tell Kaelyn is because you know what she would say. You know that you’ve always been different then the rest of the girls Clarisse messes around with, but this is different. It’s different, the way she kissed you softer for longer last week, what she did Friday night- yesterday when she pulled you into the stables and sat on a hale of hay, guiding you to sit on her lap.

She said she couldn’t have her pretty girl getting covered in hay. And she had picked off the pieces that has attached themselves to your pant legs, holding your ankle as you stood there awkwardly.

And yesterday, she has kissed you not like she usually does, but slow and soft and so sweet. Mumbling against your lips about how perfect and pretty you are, about how good you make her feel.

When she slips you the note, you don’t expect it’s her calling you to her bed again. The second night this week, and it’s written in her slightly messy handwriting- but you wouldn’t call it chicken scratch.

Come over tonight

Please

-C

—-

Kaelyn seems skeptical over the fact that you’re going to the Ares cabin again, but she can also tell you don’t want to talk about it, so she just helps you.

You lay in your bed for a long time, waiting for it to get dark enough that you can sneak over undetected. And strangely, you imagine your pillow is her chest.

—-

You wake up in a panic. It’s late, later than you would have liked to visit her. You usually come around 12- it’s probably around 2, if you had to guess.

You slip your shoes on and fix your pillows to look like someone, tip toe out the door, into the pale moonlight. You feel on fire, excited to see her, cursing yourself for sleeping- wondering if she’ll be angry with you.

You practically run past the other cabins, checking down the numbers in your head until you finally reach cabin 5. You tug your sleeves over your hands, feeling the cold summer night a lot.

You run around to the back, feet sinking into the soft grass, climbing onto the little step stool Clarisse left for you and knocking extra loud four times on the window- so she knows it’s you.

You suddenly realize there’s light peeking out from behind the curtains- is she awake?

She opens the curtains and then the window, her eyes wide. She rips the window open with such force you almost fall back, throwing your hands inside to catch yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, prepared to worship the ground at her feet- but you don’t get the chance too.

She hooks her hands under your arms and practically drags you into her room, you have to scramble to keep up with how fast she sets you onto your feet, her hands pressing against your face-

“Why are you late?” she breathes.

You feel sort of starstruck. Like Friday, something is obviously wrong with her.

You look around the room- notice the fact she has one shoe on, and her spear is on the bed and not hung up on the wall- like she was preparing to go somewhere.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, slightly out of breath from running, from the fact both of her hands are on your face and she’s staring into your eyes. “I-I fell asleep. Are you going somewhere?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“I was coming to get you,” she whispers.

“Oh.”

She lets you go, sitting on her bed and taking off the one boot she had managed to get on.

“With your spear?” you chuckle, careful to avoid it as you sit next to her.

“No,” she lies, boot hitting the floor, she stands and returns the spear to the wall. “I just… thought something happened to you. It was stupid. I didn’t sleep well last night, I’m not thinking straight.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you say. She stares pointedly at the floor. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was fine, just asleep in my bed.”

Her eyes finally meet yours and she sighs, heavily, tension fading from her shoulders. She turns off the light and you kick off your shoes, watching as she circles you like a lion watching over its cub. You lay down on your back, prepared fo shuffle over to give you room- and you choke on air when she just climbs on top of you.

She presses her head against your chest, breathes in and out deeply.

And in the darkness, where your inhibitions are lowered- she presses a kiss to your bare chest. It takes you a moment, but you’ve learned to take what you can get with Clarisse. You don’t expect to get it again, but you enjoy it when it happens.

You wrap your arms around her and breathe in the scent of her shampoo.

“I’m fine,” you reassure her, and she nods.

You lay like that for a while, eventually you start to trace circles on her back- just soaking up the moment while it lasts, letting her listen to your heartbeat.

You pretend for this one night.

And when she’s almost asleep, her voice breaks the comfortable silence.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she asks.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“You’re my only girl. I don’t… don’t wanna see anyone else anymore. I don’t.”

This is all you never allowed yourself to want from her. The one rule you have with Clarisse is to not expect anything, to not get your hopes up. But Clarisse is clearly abandoning all her rules tonight, so you abandon yours.

“Does that mean anything different?” you whisper.

“I just want you to come here every night,” she whispers. “I get scared when you’re not here, ‘cause I think about you so much I don’t know what I would do if you were gone.”

“I know, Clarisse. I know.” You hold your breath, feeling like a dam might spill over any second. “I know how you feel.”

“I jus’ want you to be here with me all the time. I don’t wanna… make out in the bathroom anymore.”

“Well, I do,” you huff, and she laughs, truly laughs and it’s possibly the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

“I wanna do other things in addition to that, okay?”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Clarisse. We both know that.”

“But do you know I feel that way about you?”

“Do you?”

“You are… everything to me, Y/N. My pretty girl, my funny girl, my perfect girl.” She doesn’t look at you when she talks, but you let her speak anyway, you let her put one of her hands in your hair. “I had a dream,” she starts, mumbling, but it’s just you and her so it’s like she’s whispering in your ear. “That I lost you last night. That’s why I was so embarrassingly freaked out.”

“It’s sweet,” you whisper. “I thought it was really sweet. I was really confused, but I liked it.”

She breathes in your scent and it makes your head feel dizzy.

“I like it too,” she says.

She doesn’t say what you’re both thinking. You don’t either. Neither of you can promise that this will work, that you won’t run back to the safety of making out and Friday nights. But at least you’re both willing to try.

You’re willing to try, for Clarisse, because she has something about her that you know you’ll never find again. She has the fire, it seeps out of her in every aspect of her personality, the way she carrie’s herself.

She has a fire that has been burning with yours for a long time, before you were even born. And you were separated into two different brazers, but now you’re back, and it might not be good, but it feels right.

She sits up and kisses you quickly, her hand on your face, and it feels like she’s everywhere.

You may be Clarisse’s sad girl, but you could grow to be her everything girl.

—-

i just love them so lovey dovey and cute and aw i don’t really have anything to say just

shoutout to clarisse’s muscles, to the way she kisses, to the pet names, to the way she loves when she thinks y/n is sleeping……. yeah.

—-

bonus: the reason clarisse had the revelation and was all don’t worry your pretty little head was bc her siblings were teasing her abt how different y/n is and she was like oh no i’m in love w this bitch

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

@hyejusdiary

[yooniivrse]

early mornings | myg

summary. when time seems to bend every morning and love speaks through tender touches and quiet reassurances.

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pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 1k

content: yoongi and oc wake up in each others arms / they love each other a bit too much and they make it pretty clear / they kiss a lot :3

warnings: fear of abandonment (kind of? if you squint??), allusions to sex

notes: idk why i'm procrastinating the third part of 'stumble into you' so bad, but this is a result of me still wanting to write something. also, ignore the images at the top if they don’t go well together, i’m too lazy to actually put in effort today 😭 likes, reblogs, comments, and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i love you guys and i hope you enjoy <33333

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main masterlist

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Amber rays spill across the room, seeping between the gaps in the curtains and kissing your bare skin with its golden warmth.

Yoongi stirs under the sheets, attempting to untangle his limbs from you, who lay beside him. But your arms only tighten around him, and he quickly gives in to the comforts of your touch.

With your head on his chest and his arm secure under your head, he can't help the lazy smile that draws across his lips.

He's always loved early mornings with you; when neither of you have to think about anything else but each other; when time feels like it ceases to exist; when nothing else mattered, because why would it when you had each other?

You were his home; his universe; his first thought in the morning and the most frequent visitor of his dreams. Everything reminded him of you, and it was maddening. But he welcomed the longing with open arms, because he was a fool.

Because he knew that it was worth being foolish if it meant having you.

Yoongi places a kiss on your forehead, his lips pressing against a few strands of hair that lay messily across your face. The scent of your skin, faintly sweet like the lavender soap you use, lingers in the air as Yoongi buries his nose in your hair, taking in the quiet of the morning, broken only by the soft hum of your breathing. He moves his hand to rest over yours, running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles.

He doesn't expect the gentle action to wake you, but your eyes flutter open. You hum, the sound quiet and laced with exhaustion as you stretch out your body.

Your eyes light up when you meet his gaze and the butterflies in his stomach erupt, fluttering around wildly.

"Morning," you whisper. You peck his lips with a soft kiss.

"Morning," Yoongi echoes. A faint blush paints his features, and a giggle tumbles from your mouth. Yoongi catches the sound with another kiss; then a third one that lingers for a few seconds longer than the others.

It is almost embarrassing to admit the effect you had on him. You've been together for years, and known each other for even more. He knows every dip and curve of your body and you have seen him through all of his highs and lows. Yet, a kiss from you still has him blushing.

"Missed me?" you tease, and he hums in agreement.

"A lot." He kisses corner of your lips and the curve of your jaw. "You're so pretty."

You laugh; a soft sound that rings through the air. It has always been Yoongi's favourite melody-the one sound that made his heart swell and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons to accommodate his growing smile.

He tucks a few strands of your hair behind your ear, letting his hand stay to cup your cheek so that he can bring his lips to yours again. He’s addicted to the way your lips fit perfectly with his, and no matter how often he kisses you, it’s never enough

And you can't stop smiling.

The feeling that courses under your skin is almost overwhelming. It still feels surreal—that kind of love, where just being with him made the world right

The possibility of losing Yoongi terrifies you, but it's a fear that follows you everyday. Sometimes, you expect to wake up one day only to realise that this is all a cruel dream, or to find the house suddenly void of his belongings and his presence.

Sometimes, the fear creeps in before you can stop it, a quiet panic that gripped you in the space between sleep and waking. You’d reach out, half-afraid to find the bed cold and empty. But then, your hand would meet the warmth of his skin, and the fear dissolved into nothing. Because every morning, he's here. Solid, warm, and real, wrapped up in the sheets beside you. His sleepy eyes, the soft curve of his lips, the way he pulls you closer as if you’re his anchor—it’s all so undeniably Yoongi, and it makes your heart flutter with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

You press your forehead to his, noses brushing, as if the closer you hold him, the more real this will become. Yoongi's fingers trail lightly over your skin, tracing invisible patterns that make you shiver.

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, voice raspy but tender, like he's always known your thoughts even before you speak them.

You let out a soft sigh, trying to find the words, but they dissolve on your tongue when his hand glides over your waist, settling at the small of your back.

“You’re here,” you whisper, more to yourself than him. It's a quiet confession of the relief that washes over you each time you wake up to find him still beside you. He smiles against your skin, a low hum of agreement in his throat. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice carrying the weight of every unspoken assurance. "You know that I'll always be right here-right beside you, whenever you need me."

For a moment, the world falls away. There’s no fear of loss, no dread of waking up alone. It’s just him, his presence grounding you, his breath steady and warm against your neck. The intimacy of the moment swells between you, a shared heartbeat that drowns out the rest of the world.

Your legs tangle beneath the sheets as he pulls you even closer, his hand finding yours under the covers. His touch is gentle, tender, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you, and in the glow of the early morning, you feel more connected to him than ever.

You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his skin seep into yours, feeling utterly safe in his embrace.

And in that moment, you know—this is home.

[ctrlhope]

Chasing Tornados (m)

synopsis: Ever since you were young, you found solstice in the clouds. Found haven in their winding winds, their chilling storms. Monsters of the air meant to destroy became your love— your safety. You know everything about the skies, yet you only want to know more about him. Wish for him to love you just as much as you do him. Your best friend. Your scorpion. Your impossible. Your Yoongi. -> part of the rest, relax, reserve series

m.yoongi x f.reader

⛆ ﾟ ⋆ : wc: 21.0k+

⛆ ﾟ ⋆ : genre: hybrid au, storm chasers au, soulmate au, friends/coworkers to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

⛆ ﾟ ⋆ : content: scorpion hybrid!yoongi x human!reader, storm chaser!yoongi+reader, angst, semi-public sex (bathroom), fingering, p in v, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, bratty!reader a lil, rough sex, thigh riding, sex under the influence (alcohol), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, one mention of a breeding kink, yoongi has a tail, mates, misunderstandings, fights, jealousy, non-linear storytelling, reader and yoongi are both kinda stupid idk, but also v cute, angst but a happy ending <33

⛆ ﾟ ⋆ : notes: heyyyyy it’s ur girl, back with another mc let’s play video!! kidding lol, sorry this took so long to write, life has been really hectic. trust me on this fic lol. but i rlly fell in love with these two nd I hope you do too <33 and i hope u enjoy my attempts at comedy! remember!! my requests are always open nd you can always feel free to send asks to characters <33

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

Wind wraps in your hair, blowing it– making it form into some beastly, monstrous thing around your head. Tangling your face, your eyes falling askew as it finds itself messing around your very being. The howls of gusts form in your ears, sounding of ghosts that would haunt any normal person. 

But you, no. Not you. You live for this. Live for the rain that beats into your skin. Live for the cracks of thunder roaring above your head. Find serenity in the dark clouds that hang overhead, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In the knowledge that it's coming. That it’s coming soon. 

The world acts as something greater- something more than yourself. A collective that has not a care for you or the people in it. A system acting for its own desires. A storm that takes and takes and takes until there's nothing left to give. 

You love it. Love every second of it. 

Even if you should be scared, even if you should be terrified– look for cover just like everyone else. To hide and cower away from the winding beast that destroys homes, takes down power lines. That kills. You can’t. Not when you feel this– this calling deep in your bones. This calling to know more. This calling to conquer a monster. 

To chase the impossible. 

You have always lived for that very thing. Have constructed your entire life around finding answers for beasts that are beyond reason, to construct something real from what can only be construed as fake. To look the storm in the eye, to live within it rather than to be consumed.

And that is exactly why you stand where you find yourself now. Tornado Alley. A storm brewing just in front of you. Warm air meeting cold, finding breath, coming to life. 

Maybe you should be scared. Maybe you should let panic set you alight and carry you far, far away from the death spirals. Maybe you should do a lot of things, yet you can't. You can only stare in wonder as rain hits your flesh. As the wind tries to take your clothes, battering them in the breeze. As electricity cracks above your head, light debris flying past your form to entertain the forming tornadoes fury.  

Bang, Bang, Bang. 

Now that sound isn't from the storm, it can’t be. Sounds too much like metal, like a fist hitting it. Oh right, the car. 

“(Y/n) get your ass in here, now!” His voice is loud, forced to so you could hear him above the storm. He would never yell otherwise. Never raise his voice a single decibel against you. 

Your body turns to face him, a smile breaking across your cheeks without a second thought. Eyes turning to crescents, rain dripping down your cheeks. 

Right, Yoongi. 

The impossible. 

You don’t know when it happened. It shouldn’t have happened. But you knew it did. Felt the shift in your soul whenever you looked at him, felt your blood pumping just a fraction faster whenever he was close. Felt yourself yearn to smell his signature Yoongi scent whenever you sat in his car, whenever he drove you around on one of your little escapades. 

Maybe it was a year ago. Maybe less. Maybe more. You could never be sure– emotions never were your strong suit. But he knew that, and he didn’t care. Never pressured or pried, always just let the two of you be. Act in co-existence in a way you doubt two people could. 

Your partner in crime, your solace among the disarray perpetuating every second of your job– your life. The only person you knew crazy enough to chase the storms with you. To risk their life driving you into the eye. Your right hand man. Your friend. 

None of it should have happened. But it did anyway. Isn’t that always the way life goes? The same way the storms control the skies, he found himself controlling your heart with no will of his own. No knowledge of the underlying flutter that found its way into your guts the second he looked at you, nor any knowledge of the way your eyes fell into adoration when they fell on him. 

Why did you have to fall in love with the storm? 

You weren’t sure– never cared to look deeper into the fact. Never cared to think about why you couldn’t fathom a future without him. Never dared to dip into why the scrawny kid from your college has suddenly become a man before you. Never even thought to challenge the pre-disposed ideologies that held your friendship by its core.

No. You would never do anything as stupid as that. 

Yes, you were a creature of impulse. Never the type to take into account the consequences your actions disclosed. But you like to chase the impossible. You would never think to actually attempt to change it. Especially when you could lose everything in the process. Lose him.

In more ways than one.

Plus, you know where he stands. Know he could never see you as anything more than a friend– a little sister. The hair ruffles, the slight glares he gives when men talk to you in the bars, the way he puts up with your ‘overly affectionate’ cuddles– as much as you wish the simple actions meant more, you knew they simply didn’t.

A big brother. Unfortunately for you, he knows that’s the role he plays in your life too well. 

But he’s not your big brother. He's a man, you’re a woman. It’s not like you ever asked to get caught up in the stringers that tangled you together. Not like you ever asked for this crush to form. 

“For fucks sake! (Y/n)!” His voice is louder now, a harsh yell pulling you from the thoughts that sunk you under the waves. His body forcing itself through the wind to get to you, arm raising to shield his face. “We have to fucking go!!” 

He would admonish you later for getting too caught up in your own thoughts again– something you knew all too well. But when the storm was raging around you, it was almost easier to think. To get lost in the recesses of your brain until you drew the conclusion you had been looking for all along. 

His hand grips your wrist now, dragging you back to the safety of your company truck all while scolding you harshly with words he never actually meant. Just his salt-coated concern peaking through the surface. And well, his concern about getting swallowed up by the storm. Yeah, most people worry about that kind of stuff. At least that’s what you suppose. 

“Are you that fucking stupid?” He shouts roughly at you, forcing you to get in the passenger seat. His touch is gentle even if his words are strong. He always has been strong. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” 

He slams the door closed before you can say anything back– frustrated but not mad. Never mad at you. And for that you can’t help the giddy feeling on your lips. Your eyes watching him as he quickly walks to his side of the car, tail curled close to his back almost as if to protect himself. 

Right, his tail. You forget about it a lot of the time– but at the same, you are so very fond of it. Smile whenever it moves in response to his emotions, giggle whenever he forgets about it himself, tripping over the thing. 

You often forget Yoongi isn’t a full human. But it’s never played much of a role in your life, in your friendship. So you don’t really see the point to care. Choose to ignore the scorpion blood that runs through his veins and view him as any other person walking the face of the earth. It’s never bothered you. 

Most people around you call you a fool anyway, it’s not much to add another reason to it. 

“Ah~ Don’t worry, King Yoongi. I don’t plan on getting myself killed anytime soon.” You let out a gentle giggle as he finds his way into the car, pressing on the gas almost immediately and driving as fast as he can away.

His body is so rigid, so stressed. Yet you can’t be further from it. Your legs propped haphazardly on the dashboard, your body sinking deeper into the seat. You trust him. He always gets you out. Something about his special senses, probably. Maybe. 

Actually, you don’t know. You should ask him about it later– how he can see in such horrid conditions. 

“You will if I just leave you there.” He rolls his eyes, glancing over to you for only a second before managing back to the road, “Don’t think I won’t.” 

“You won’t though.” He only scoffs, but you can see the smile at the corner of his mouth. It warms you almost as much as the sound of the rain– or maybe it's hail now, pelting the roof of the car.  

“I could and I will.” 

“But you won’t.” 

“Just put your fucking seat belt on.” He grumbles, his voice getting a fraction louder as he turns the wheel harshly, a last second manoeuvre. A stick flying through the air past your window. A narrow avoidance. 

The car bumps harshly as it drives, the roads narrow and in disarray. Swerving to avoid debris that litters the ground and jumping as it dips into potholes. It feels like a race. Makes you feel alive even as you click the belt into place– as he moves his tail across your frame to act as a second one. 

You should be scared. Should be terrified of getting caught in the storm. But you trust Yoongi. You know he’ll always protect you. 

“Did the other teams drop their equipment on time?” You ask, reaching below your seat and grabbing the computer. He sends you a pointed glance. 

“According to the sensors we were the last ones.” 

“Well we always are~” You mumble back, a little sing-song in your voice while your head tilts towards your chin. Eyes scanning the array of measurements that pop up on the screen– reading them, taking in their meaning. 

It is your job, anyway. 

“Who’s fault is that?” His words don’t perfectly cross your ears, never do when you're trying to focus. An input of too much information at once and a computer might explode! Aka your brain, aka he’s known for years you have selective hearing when trying to understand complicated things. 

“Mhmm…” You quietly mumble out, fingers moving quickly to type as he finally drags the car out of the storm. Slows down to a more human speed as you type out a few observations, input pieces of code to make your readings more sensible. 

You completely miss the small smile he sends your way, the tilt of his head trying to check. “Anything interesting?”

“Mmm… Nothing we haven’t seen before. Got a couple of cool 3D models of the storm your screen, though…” You tilt the laptop in his direction, showing him the model of the storm. Exactly how big it was, how fast it was moving. “Just an E2, but still pretty.” 

“Yeah, had to’ve been to almost let it eat you.” 

You roll your eyes, shutting the laptop as he pulls over to the side of the road, “Of course, I’d let anything as pretty as that take me out.” 

He scoffs, “Anything, really?”

“Yeah, you know that guy on Attack on Titan that's like ‘oh i’d let a pretty female titan eat’-- Wait a second it is not my fault!” You suddenly announce, his words before finally registering in your mind, “You’re always tinkering with the the the bits!! That’s why it takes so long!”

You grump, crossing your arms. A fond smile finding its way to his lips. 

“Yeah, cause the ‘bits’ are the real issue, aren’t they? Not you playing out music videos in your head while a tornado is hurrdaling at us?”

“Okay! That was one time! And totally not my fault!” You huff, not in any real annoyance, just simply banter. Yoongi always seemed to like your over-dramatic reactions anyway. “You said we could play Hurrcane!! By my girl Bridget Mendler! You know what that song does to me!” 

He can only laugh in response, the gums of his mouth showing as he tilts his head back. Long black hair falling lower against his shoulders. Tail falling lax for the first time in forever. Crests shown in his eyes. 

You like giving Yoongi your reactions if it means he can smile like this. 

When he looks in your direction for a breef second, you can’t help but puff out your cheeks and stick out your tounge in pestilence. The action only causing him to shake his head, eyes returning to the road a little brighter than before.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. How could I possibly forget.” A thousand words are said behind his tone that you could never pick up on. Never notice. “You get so excited, like a kid. It’s funny.”

Your head jerks to look at him, a pointed glare in your eye, “She makes me feel things you can’t even hope to understand, Min.”

He rolls his own, “Uh huh. I’m sure.” 

College. Senior Year. The perfect hell it bestows on all of its captors. 

The combined effort of senior thesis’s, grad school searches, advanced level course work, and the unyielding need for money after graduation, as it turns out, is the best possible combination for stress any one person can find! How wonderful. Especially for you, with a stupid gpa you need to upkeep to keep your stupid scholarships, so you can get your stupid degree and get your stupid job–

Well, okay. Now you’re just spiralling. 

Annoyed and tired has never been a good combination for everyday dreamers. Especially those that have been working their entire lives for a single goal. To chase their every last dying hope since they were a child. To become the very person they could only wish to be in their youth. 

But in all fairness, your ass has been handed to you on a silver platter after your last exam grade was horribly, terribly slid to you face down against the table. A quiet note of “see me after class” listed on the top without reverie. Your thoughts a sudden cyclone vortexing you inward and onward, wishing you could tell the sweet summer child of your adolescence that you had failed her. That you were never going to be able to live inside a tornado as she had wished. 

Oh. The monster that you were. 

That was, at least, until you did meet with your professor. And, apparently, he wasn’t going to drop you from the class and (somehow) get you removed from the college like you had thought! Even better, he saw how hard you worked– how much you truly care. Deciding to lend a hand rather than pull it back. Giving you a building and a time to meet with a tutor he specifically picked out. 

Someone he would apparently trust his life to. Your life– okay, academic career, to as well. 

That’s how you found yourself now. Walking through a library that had to be older than your great grandparents– the scent of mildew filling your nose as you moved farther and farther into the recesses of the building. 

Why, exactly, you had to meet in the deepest, darkest corner of the library at an absurd hour of the day confuses you even now. Annoys you a little, quite frankly. Leaving your dorm past 8pm feels like a nightmare.

But you trust your professor, you trust that he wouldn’t steer you wrong. Well, hope is probably a better term. One that more accurately portrays your inner conflicts as you make your way to the back conference table nestled deep within walls of encyclopaedias. Dust entrapping the air you sit in– age and memories baked in the walls. 

At worst, that’s all you shall make. Memories. Call the whole thing a bust and look online for some tutors or go to a used bookstore and buy a few more outdated textbooks. At best, you’ll pass the class and become one of the best meteorologists the world has seen. No pressure on Mr. Mystery Tutor or anything. Obviously. 

None at all. 

Your fingers find themselves tapping against the table as you think; seat already taken, items already spread out as you wait. Just your ring finger over and over in a repeated motion– the beat of wind speeds picking up on a desert plane. The bubbling of magma under the surface of the earth. The–

“(Y/n)?” A husk of a voice breaks your almost monotonous silence, your tapping suddenly ceased as a chill travels down your spine. A chill from the tone of someone's voice alone– can you believe that? 

Somewhere, once, when you were little, you heard that a chill runs down your spine whenever a serial killer passes by. But this isn't that. No, this is something entirely different. More familiar. More recognizant. 

Your eyes shoot pitifully fast up at him, almost tilting your head as you take in the features. Black hair– maybe brown, baggy hoodie, slouched shoulders. One hand supporting the shrap of his bag that hangs over his shoulder. 

No, you don’t know him. Maybe a future you does– one where a timeline passes over this exact spot. Where you’re friends already, maybe something more. Something safe. Though, that isn’t a very scientific explanation. One colleagues and professors may make fun of you for. You disregard the notion, only nodding your head to confirm. 

He only mirrors the motion in return, seemingly not one for conversation himself. Finding himself pulling out the chair across from yours, setting himself inside of it. Wasting no time in pulling out his own belongings. 

Laptop, textbook, notebook. 

“The professor said you were having trouble with qualitative analysis of…” His voice trails off, and you can’t help but wonder how someone's voice can almost sound like a well-loved record. A tune that can’t quite find its sink– almost too rigid to hope itself melodic. 

You listen to the same voice as it sings out the songs of your lessons. As he goes over the failed exam beat by beat. Explaining the first few questions in such simple terms anyone could understand them. Not in a way that felt condescending, no. Again, it just felt so warm that you couldn’t do anything but listen to him quietly. Absorbing everything without a single interruption. 

Well, until question 7 at least. That is when you feel two synapses connecting in your brain reminding you of an ultra-important task that absolutely cannot be forgotten. A handshake. Your small hand cutting him off, reaching across the table without a second thought.

He stares at the pervasive hand as if it is something he’s never seen before. Never been offered in the first place. Something offensive to hurt rather than anything else.

Interesting. 

“My dad always said you have to shake hands when you’re meeting someone. Or else it’s bad luck down the road. So…” You explain away simply, like it should be obvious to every person on the Earth. It should, honestly. But you’ve been told you have issues with thinking that way– that things obvious to you should be obvious to everyone else. That everyone else lives within the same bubble you’ve found yourself residing in your whole life. 

You know it isn't true– that the bubble you’ve created is something you simply live in alone. Periphery finding itself resident to everyone else. But that’s awfully lonely, isn't it? You choose to think the former. 

His shoulders slowly unfurl, defences slowly lowering as he meets your hand in the middle. Rough palm meeting yours, shaking slowly up and down before both sides pull away. A magnet short of attraction of two bodies as you pull away. 

“Good.” You nod, pulling your knees up to hover off of the ground. Resting them against the edge of the table instead. “I don’t like bad luck either.” 

There's a beat of silence, one that you don’t mind. 

“Do you not like black cats then either?” His tone has an edge of pessimism to it. His defences considering a raise. 

You, on the other hand, feel immediate offence. How dare he! “What?! Are you crazy! Or course I like them.” 

You miss the crook of his lip into a light smirk, defences gone once more, “Well, normally they’re seen as bad luck…” 

“That’s just a stereotype!” You instantly defend. Your body leaning over, moving your face closer to his. 

He holds his arms up in defence, pencil still wedged between his fingers, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. My bad completely.” He lets out a quiet chuckle at the end, you only puff out your cheeks.

“Entirely.” You huff quietly, almost sounding like a petulant child, “I would never judge something just off of how they’re born.” At that, he almost perks an ear. 

“Really?” He asks, his eyebrows slowly raising, “Not even hybrids?” 

Ah, hybrids. A common discussion other people find themselves having, one that you never really found the purpose of. Arguments on their rights, the ethics of keeping them as pets, on if they should even be classified as intelligent life. You hated all of them. Didn’t understand for a second why people kept themselves concerned with class divisions or keeping others subservient at all. 

As far as you care, they’re the same as humans. Think like humans, act like humans. Another creature just as deserving the right to live and exist as all others. You don’t concern yourself with the difference in their existence– seeing them, treating them the same as you would any other person. 

You can’t stand that others find different opinions than yourself. Cutting them off entirely for treating another living, breathing creature with the capacity to think for itself as less. Reminding you desperately that you live on the periphery. 

“No, why should I care.”  You scrunch your nose up at the notion you’d think otherwise. He takes the action differently. “They’re the same as everyone else.” 

You surmise your ideologies simply, though you’re never sure if your words construe correctly. His results are inconclusive as well, letting out a quiet grunt. Dropping the subject. Keeping his words from revealing what is true. 

“What else is bad luck then?” 

You don’t notice the quick subject change, “Walking under ladders, whistling in the woods, doing your laundry on a sunday. …I can’t imagine saying Bloody Mary in a mirror 3 times is much help either.” 

He pauses for a second, his eyes just looking at you. They’re sharp things– knives against a grinder maybe. Could even be too sharp to be human, if you cared to look a little closer. Cared to notice the differences between you and him. 

But you don’t, nor will you probably ever. Just allow him to shake his head simply, let him return to your test questions without a single other thought leaking into that brain of yours. Only this time, you feel comfortable enough to ask a few more questions. Let him delve more deeply into the work without the threat of your mind wandering off to useless things. Allow the clock to tick later, later, later into the night– moving from your exam, to the most recent concept your class has been working on. Carefully treading the water, staying afloat as you finally begin to understand. 

You hate to admit it, you really do for the sake of your pride alone, but he really is a good teacher. He doesn’t seem upset when you ask questions– no matter how stupid you are. He stays calm whenever you start to get frustrated, carefully talking you through it instead of getting upset himself. He seems so peaceful you almost want to hate him for it. 

Almost, because between the gentle instructions and messy handwriting as the hours tick late into the night, jokes begin to crack freely between both of your tongues. Gentle jabs that mean nothing, topics construing into obscurity flowing into something more entertaining to discuss. 

Though– he did seem to have pause when you told him you don't trust fish. Something about them thinking they’re better than you– of which he agreed. Not that they’re better than you, of course not. But that yeah… they do seem to have that kind of look in their eyes. 

He feels the same way about birds, you learned. Interesting. 

It isn’t until midnight that he calls it, a time you didn’t even think was plausible. You thought it was 9:30, 10 at the latest! There’s no way midnight could have come so soon! Just the idea of it sounded fake. But then you checked the clock in the library, then your phone, and now you don’t know what to think. 

Time has never flown so simply with another person. 

“I told you I wasn’t lying.” He has that stupid smirk on his face, the one you’ve decided means he’s feeling cocky and amused. 

“You could… you could have changed all of them when I wasn’t looking! To trick me?”

“Yeah.. mhmm.. And what would that do.. For either of us..?”

“. . . I haven’t gotten there yet.”

“Right.” He smiles, a real smile that shows off his gums. You can’t help but reflect a smaller one back at him. 

Once again he moves first, standing after he’s collected all his belongings. Tossing his bag over his shoulder while you hurry to catch up. Sliding your laptop inside before making sure your pens know their correct homes in the case–

What was that?

It was something so subtle anyone could have missed it. A mouse scurrying between cases, a piece of trash floating by. Something brown moving quickly in the corner of your eye. Something you neglected to notice. How could you not notice something so obvious?

When you look up at him– finally take the man you’ve spent the night with in his entirety, you see it. You missed it while he was sitting down, obviously trying to keep the thing from view, but now there was no hiding it. It was impossible to hide the thick brown tail that hung behind him in such a relaxed posture you wonder if he forgot about it, too. 

You couldn’t help the instant fascination as you took the form of it in. The pretty segments it appeared to be broken into– 5 if you counted them correctly, all stacked neatly upon one another. All leading to a stinger resting at the end, gently curled inward rather than held in defence. 

The gentleness of the man himself contrasted so nicely with the firmness of the tail. 

So pretty.

It was only then that he must’ve realised his mistake. Must’ve noticed your silence, followed your eye line to see exactly where it was laying. Realised that he let his guard down too quickly– understood too quickly that you didn’t already know about his… condition. His state of existence. 

The professor must’ve not told you. Probably thought it was a negligible factor even though it never is. Maybe when he came in you missed it, you didn’t actually look up at him until he sat down anyway. Until his tail was already tucked deep under the chair for protection. 

Without realising it, his tail raises. Curing behind his back, the tip looking even sharper than it normally does. Meanwhile his body tenses up entirely. Defence utterly encasing his form.

Fuck, and then your eyebrows are raising– and next you’re gonna start screaming and he’ll have to run so he doesn’t get taken in by hybrid services and–

“Can I touch it?” Your voice brings him back to reality, back from the ‘end-of times’ it found itself careening towards. Now he’s just, he’s just confused. Did you just ask him if you could touch it? Why aren’t you acting like he’s suddenly the scum of the earth? That’s how hybrids are treated anyway. 

Even if you said otherwise earlier, that doesn’t mean much to someone who's never experienced otherwise. 

“. . . oh… or maybe that’s rude. Forget it. Sorry.” You rush out instead, taking his appearance softly. Honestly, you don’t know much about what could be considered ‘rude’ to hybrids… you don’t have much experience with them at all, actually. 

“You’re not…” He fumbles with himself, his tail remaining raised like a predator. He forces himself taller, forces himself to appear more together. More ready to ‘strike’-- figuratively. He clears his throat, “What, you have something you want to say?”

You cock your head back sharply, rising to your feet, “No, why would I?” You feel just as confused as him. Maybe asking to touch a hybrid’s parts is more taboo than you thought… 

“Look I didn't mean any offence it was just pretty and–”

“Just fucking run off and report me if you’re going to–”

Both sentences are said at the same time from each party, the response mirroring exactly as well. Both faces twist into that of almost confusion and offence, upset that the other would dare say something like that for entirely different reasons. 

“What are you talking about?” Your question comes from annoyance, almost anger that he would think you would do something as nasty as reporting him when he was just trying to live his life. 

His comes from the simple word pretty. Why would you think his appendage was anything of the sort? The one thing his entire life that’s set him back– the very blood in his veins betraying him. The reason he can’t be accepted by normal people. The reason he has to take stupid night classes at this university with any professor that is actually willing to accept him. To accept his under the table payments. 

The very reason he’ll never get a real job– just hope to be adopted by someone who will let him do what he wants. Just hope that the authorities don’t find him, or that his own landlord won’t turn him in before he can do that. 

And you think it’s pretty? No fucking sane person would. 

“Why would you think I’d report you?” Your tone is hurt, the pang in his heart hurting just as much. He hates that he feels it, and he hates that he wants to comfort you more than anything else. Stupid fucking scorpion genes. 

“What else would you do?” He scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Literally nothing. I would do nothing.” You glare at him slightly, “I don’t care that you’re a hybrid, why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” His tone is accusatory, but he doesn’t quite know what else to make it. 

“Okay, let’s go down the list, yeah?” The spite in your tone lets the both of you know this night is taking a sour turn, “You can think, you can feel, oh right, you’re your own fucking person.”

You roll your eyes, “I know words don’t mean much, probably, but I view literally every creature as equal.” He still stands firm, your words and his life experiences battling in his mind. You sigh, this isn’t going anywhere. “Listen, I know it probably doesn’t mean much, and like, we both just met so I know it doesn’t hold much value. But I’m really sorry for whatever you’ve gone through in your life. It couldn’t have been easy. But I really, truly don’t care about whatever laws are in place. As far as I’m concerned, you’re equal to me.”

Your tone had gone soft, more gentle. Trying to dispel the hostility that hung fragrant in the air. But it looks like he can’t move. Doesn’t really know how after all of that. You probably wouldn’t either– though you’re not sure, you’ve never been good at putting yourself in other people's shoes. You just hope he believes you… that’s all you can do. 

“I’ll head out first. You have my number, text me if you want to meet again.” You start towards the door, the ball left in the other man’s court. You wish you could’ve at least got his name first but.. He never introduced himself. Hmm, maybe you did the handshake too late, that’s why the bad luck kicked in. 

“You think it’s pretty?” You almost don’t hear his words, too far away. 

You turn your body back to face him, a gentle smile crocheted onto your lips, “Of course I do. Exquisite.” 

The two of you stand in silence for a minute longer, trying to navigate the confusing energy moving between both of your forms. It’s only when you turn back around again to leave that he finally speaks. The simple word of his name. 

“Yoongi.” 

“Well, it was very nice to meet you, Yoongi.” You say softly, tilting your head to look at him once again, “I really do hope we can be friends.”

But that was years ago. Friends came and went; now you want so much more. More than you could ever quite articulate. You know it now as you sit with him, an after-chase ritual in whatever cheap roadside bar you can find. Never finding yourselves regulars, always on the move– save for the presence of each other. 

“I don’t think luck is real, you know.” Yoongi drawls into your ear, the scent of alcohol heavy on his tongue. His body leaning against yours in the crowded bar, hair dancing against the side of your neck all while his tail finds itself curled around your back. A simple motion that could only be described as protective, possessive. 

“What?!” You dramatically slap your hand against your mouth, an action you picked up from him. Alcohol inhibiting both of your minds only slightly, letting words flow a little easier than they otherwise might. Letting touch feel a little more commonplace. 

An afterwork tradition, if you will. 

“You’re insane!” You announce, slapping his shoulder playfully, “You’re gonna make bad luck get us Yoongi!! Take it back!” 

Your voice is almost a whine, and he wants to fold because of it. 

“You say that like you aren’t a stem major!” He laughs, his eyes shining like crescent moons you want to live on. Wait, does that even make sense?

“That doesn’t matter! We're like– the least scienc-y!! Our whole job is practically based on luck! Oh my god!” Now you’re stopping your foot a little, and his tail finds itself pulling you closer.

“Yeah, but you have no idea how many ladder’s I’ve walked under and you still say I have the best luck.” He giggles– fucking giggles!! Can you believe the audacity of this man?! 

“Yoongi!! How dare you!! Do you know how many E5s’ you’ve cost us?! Probably like.. Like 20!” 

“Mm, maybe yours just keeps it up for the both of us. Huh?” You humph, you fucking humph, and maybe– just maybe, Yoongi feels himself going a little insane. Forgetting himself– what you are meant to be to him.

“That’s the only plausible explanation… obviously…” 

He hums, “Obviously.” 

There’s a brief moment, a flicker in the air of something indescribable. Something that makes your skin feel a quiet, humble flame strumming under the surface. That makes you feel as if there's electricity pulsing through the space left between your noses. That makes you feel almost invincible as your eyes meet his warm brown tones. 

You’ve come to love earthy hues since meeting Yoongi. He’s full of them, after all. 

But, the flame of the match is blown out far too quick for you to truly comprehend what that moment was. Why it felt the way it did. Instead, your left sputtering with the absence of Yoongi, the slow withdrawal of his form. 

“I’ll go get us more drinks.” His gravelly voice mutters just loud enough to hear over the music. You can only nod along, already missing the security of the tail curled around your back. 

At least he isn’t so shy about it’s presence anymore. At least not like he was back then– trying to hide it, trying to make the rest of the world forget about it. You never understood why, no, how could you when you love it so much? Find it just another integral part of Yoongi for you to love. 

You can even smile now, thinking back to how cute he got the first time he let you touch it. How he turned red to his ears, the chill that travelled down his spine. The flick of it as it chased after your hand when you retreated. It was too fucking cute back then… mm. Maybe that’s when you first started to grow a crush on the man. 

Or maybe it was always how struck he was when you complimented him. Pushed it aside like it meant nothing, yet he always seemed a little out of it for the rest of your time spent together. You suppose Yoongi has always been reticent to your gaze; but then again, he was always aloof when it came to his feelings as it was. Nothing to dwell on, honestly. 

You’ve never tried to hide your feelings– have never wanted to, really. You don’t think you even know how. But you’re not going to force them on him either. If he wants to act, the door has always been open. And it will remain open to him, probably forever. 

“How’d the chase go this time?” A voice carries you from your head, your feet returning to the solid ground. Jisung, a fellow chaser finds himself in the seat next to yours– the seat Yoongi used to fill. A friend in the industry, you could say. Though, you take to thinking he probably wants more. 

“Mmm… ‘bout as good as any other this late into the season…” You hum, taking a sip from your half-full glass, “Never as good around this time of year.” 

Your sigh makes a gentle smile grow onto his plush lips, “Really? I thought you fell in love with every storm.” He lets out a quiet snort, swirling his own cup. His eyes seem to remain focused on you, though. 

“Of course I do. Everyone is perfect and special!” You declare a smile stretching back, “However, like every caring mother, I do have favourites.” 

“I don’t think– that’s not–” He laughs, “Aren’t parents not supposed to have favourites?”

“You really believe that Lie, Sung? Bold of you.”

“Well, do you have favourite pets?”

“Of course not!! How dare– okay, yeah. It’s the goldfish. His name is Guppie and he is my pride and joy. Named after my first love in elementary school~ imagine I let out a dreamy sigh here.”

His laugh makes your own come out as well, “Your first love was a… fish?”

“What, no?”

“They were named Guppie? … Like a fish…”

“Nickname, of course.” You giggle, girlish and cute. 

“Do you give nicknames to everyone then?” He moves his face closer in wonder, excitement, “What’s mine? You have to tell me.”

You hum, tapping your chin in contemplation, “I don’t know ‘Sung, nicknames are reserved for extra special people in my life…”

“Ah!” He clutches his chest, looking down before popping his head up. Puppy dog eyes, “I’m not extra special? You wound me (Y/n)! You really do! And I really thought we had something, I can’t believe this.” 

You laugh loudly at the dramatic act– emotions on the sleeve are so much more fun to display. You know he probably means none of it, but it’s still adorable. You can’t help but lean in closer, slapping his chest gently. 

“Shh! Shh! You’re too loud! Too loud! You’re extra special!” The conversation is easy, just as it always is with Jisung. Though it isn’t the same– you can’t help but notice that fact. It feels easy, smooth… though like there is a wall in the way of true connection. Like there is a way you are meant to act. Just like there always is. 

Always is with everyone but Yoongi. 

It’s strange. But something you’ve grown attached to. Fond of. 

He clears his throat behind you– think of the devil and he shall appear. Or however the saying goes. You’ve never been good with them, anyway. Your strengths and your faults, the simple facts have become all too aware of over time. Not that you mind them, of course. You just accept them as a fact of ‘you’. Just like your bubble, just like your impossible.

“Oh, hey!” Jisung is bright as always, giving a gentle wave to the man behind you. 

“Poongie!” You smile, your inebriated mind already attempting to wrap itself around his torso. It’s not your fault you already missed him!

Jisung erupts in a fit of giggles, “Poongie?! That’s his?!”

“Yep! Mixture of Pookie and Yoongi. He loves it.” He certainly does, but he would never admit it. Actually, he feels kind of odd right now. More… stiff than he was before he left. Like something… darker? Is radiating off of him. Though, it’s not actually dark. Just kind of… displeased. You can't seem to find the right word. 

“I can tell.” Jisung rolls his eyes, “He looks thrilled.” 

That only seems to further upset the man, his tail slowly curling around itself on instinct. Moving to find purchase on your waist. To pull you closer. To claim you. Sober thoughts slipping into a drunk mind, his actions freer than he normally allows them to be. 

Jealousy. That’s all he feels. Jealous that you just called someone who’s been openly hitting on you the entire season ‘extra special’. How fucking childish of him. He knows that even now, but he doesn’t want to stop. Everything that normally does feels as though they’ve gone into hibernation at this very moment.  

He just wants you. 

The next thing the Scorpion knows, he’s setting the drinks on the counter while you gaff away. Lifting you by your hips, sliding his form underneath yours with a grunt. Placing you on his lap and finally, making sure you’re secure to him with a hug of his tail around your midsection. 

He almost feels proud at your little squeal of surprise. At the blush on your cheeks. That’s right. He’s the only special one to you. This other man– other predator should know it. 

He knows he’ll regret this display in the morning. That he’ll feel utterly embarrassed by the whole thing. But right now Min Yoongi feels on top of the world. 

“Yoongi! What are you doing!” You hiccup out in surprise, trying to turn to face him. But he holds you still, holds you secure. Holds you safe just like he always makes sure you are. Gives you a response only by the shrug of his shoulders, his chin finding purchase in the crook of your neck. 

“W-well.. Fine then!” You huff, puffing out your cheeks just a little, “I’ll stay, but… just for a little! I’ll stay here for a little…” You grow a little quiet near the end, a little nervous. But you couldn’t feel more warm than in this moment. So heavenly. 

Jisung only laughs, what else is he meant to do anyway? A small, petulant part of Yoongi was hoping he’d run for the hills– he would with such aggressive scent marking. But then again, the other man is a human, probably doesn’t know anything about such a thing. 

The other part of Yoongi almost wants him to watch. Wants the other man to watch you drown in your own blush, watch as you learn more and more into the firm chest behind you. Feel the connection you two have that–

Oh, you’re laughing again too, what a pretty sound. The conversation picking up once again– Jisung is a conversationalist isn’t he. Yoongi almost wishes he was the same. Jealousy is an ugly emotion. It makes people do drastic things. It makes Yoongi want to do even more drastic things. 

If only he was human. 

If he was human he'd do so much more. Would have already done so much more. But now, in his current state of being, he couldn’t handle it. He wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection. He knows it. Knows it in the way mother’s comfort their children after one look at his tail, and knows it in the way you look at storms. 

Yoongi isn’t a tornado. You would never look at him the same way you look at them. With such love and light in your eyes. 

But god he wants you to, he wants you to more than anything. He wants to be an option. He wants to be the center of your universe just like those dumb fuck storms are. He wants to be the wind that plays with your hair, the rain that kisses your skin. He wants to be the very thing that envelopes your entire consciousness just like those storms do. 

And maybe, just maybe if he presses himself close enough to you he can. He can pretend with the poison in his blood that you like him. He can be yours, even if it's only for a night.

He would always be yours. You never his’. 

And as the night ticks on, venom bubbling up every second that ticks, he feels himself becoming looser. Feels you melting into his grip as pretty drinks and florals fill your mind. Feels your scent starting to overpower his nose as his mind blurs with thoughts of you. Almost feels the tangle of souls joining in the way he’s always wished them to.  

“Yoonie..” You hum, fingers coming up loosely to move through his hair in a way they only do when the two of you are alone, “He went to get a drink, can let me go now…seats open.” 

He almost feels annoyed at your words, and you can’t help but let the disappointment of them bubble, too. You don’t want him to let you go. In fact, you’d be happy staying like this forever. But you know Yoongi, you know he doesn’t like to be so… affectionate in public. He’s one to show his love quietly, something else you’ve come to find endearing over the years you’ve spent by his side. 

Only, you don’t feel relieved movements like you expected to, no. While his arms go lax, his tail almost pulls tighter. The two sides of him fighting, arguing over what to do next. And next, next you feel something so warm. So soft against your neck that you don’t know what to do. 

Lips. His lips are against your neck. A gentle press to the side of the column robbing you of your ability to breath, ability to think. Normal affectionate pecks are common, sure, when the two of you have spent too long reaserching and analysing the your brains are working a little slower than they normally do, they might even be seen as common. But this kiss, this kiss was slow. It was languid. It was so much more. Everything you’ve ever wanted. 

“Have to?” His words are quiet, gruff. Lips moving against your neck as he talks. Spoken to you alone in the world, emboldened by the alluring mix of jealousy and alcohol. 

You shake your head, much emboldened by the same. He never has to let you go. 

“Good.” You feel your heart in your ears, ready to explode as he moves his arm back around you, back to your hip to hold you steady, “Mine.” 

Neither of you ever expected that single, life altering word to ever leave his lips.

“Y-Yours?” You can’t help yourself, you need to make sure you heard him right. Needed to make sure this whole thing wasn’t a dream. That his lips, slowly kissing along the ridge of your shoulder are real and not a figment of your imagination. 

Though he doesn’t say it again, doesn’t will himself to. Instead the sound you hear is something low, one you’ve never heard him use against you. A gentle growl lodged in the back of his throat, confirming it. Confirming everything for your head and your heart to hear. 

“Yours…” You try again, tilting your head to the side, giving him more room. He hums in assurance, in want. 

You think you could die happy. 

The impossible. The impossible is claiming you for himself. Is holding the heart of the love struck college student, the nervous new-hire, the assured scientist all in the palm of his hand. Is confirming your affections. Confirming the fire brewing deep in your belly. The coals that have been slowly and tenderly cared for over time. 

Yoongi and the storms– they’re both your impossible, your fate finding reality. 

“Y-Yoongi I—” He tilts your chin, cutting you off mid sentence. Passion alight beneath the subtle glow of amber that robs you of your words. Lets you know exactly what you need to. Makes the fire burst into flames as his fingers gently dig into your hip, makes your entire body heat as he rubs in gentle circles. 

“I don’t like him.” He grunts, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Keeps you from me.” 

“No one can keep me from you.” The reply is instant, your lips barely missing his. “You’re for me.”

God, and at that moment you know that the prettiest noise in the world is Yoongi’s quiet groan. The way his eyes close, the way he practically pulls you down into his lap sends you into overdrive. The way he slowly rolls his own up is enough to send you into a puddle of your former being. 

The rest of the world is gone, entirely melted away from reality. Now, now it’s just you and Yoongi. Cornered away from the rest of the bar, out of sight. Out of mind. Just his hands slowly moving your hips to be seated on just one of his thighs, his tail making sure you’re secure. Just your scent driving him crazy.

He can tell how wet you already are. He can tell how much you want him, just as he wants you. 

The contact is rough, a little maddening. His jeans pressing up against yours, the thin cotton of your panties not doing much to stop the harsh heat. But you don’t want it to stop. You want him to do whatever he wants. 

“You’re wet.” He isn't shy to admit it. Isn’t shy to admit the smell invading his nose. Isn’t shy to let you know exactly what it’s doing to him with the rock of your hips. Letting you feel something hard pressed right against your back. 

“Shut up…” You instantly complain, whining as you lean your back against his chest, further into his touch. He cracks a soft smile at your words, rocking you back and forth so slowly, so carefully. Letting you feel every flex of the muscle, every rough movement of the jean against your clit. Savouring every second now that the threat of the other man has dissipated. Taking his time in case all of this is a dream and he will have to give you up tomorrow. 

“Why? Not cute when I say it?” He chuckles, jumping his leg slightly off the ground, sending a wave through your body. A shock of pleasure to the system that has a gentle moan tumbling from your lips. That has your hips sending a gentle buck back. That has your brain feeling as though it might become mush.

Yoongi is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. 

“Hey guys I…” Yoongi’s eyes find Jisung before your own do. Before the flushed expression on your face can quell and certainly before you can find a coherent thought. And suddenly the lazy foreplay in the corner of the bar is gone. Suddenly Yoongi is no more than an animal once again. 

“O-Oh! Jisung! S-sorry let me just–” You try, but there isn’t any use. No, Yoongi is pissed you even said his name. Pissed you tried to move away from him. Why would you try to move away from him? A predator with his m– prey being stolen right out from under him. A predator that has everything to gain and everything to lose. 

Yoongi isn’t thinking anymore as he stands, just barely keeping you upright as he pulls you away. Grabs your hand and leads you to the bathroom, locks the door once you’re both inside. 

Sanity is no longer present. Only the jealousy he feels inside. Only annoyance at the other man for trying to take you away from him. You said he was yours, that he was made for you. And the other predator dared try to take you? Take you from him when you were about to share something so sweet?

Yoongi knows he isn’t thinking right. Knows he might regret it in the morning– but he also knows if he doesn’t do something now he’ll regret it even more. For once, for once in his life he wants to be selfish. For once in his life he wants to forget he can’t ever have you because he’s a hybrid. For once he just wants you. 

You’d let him have you. Over and over again. For the rest of your lives. 

“Yoongi what are you–” He cuts you off with his lips against your own for he doesn’t know the answer. He’s letting himself just exist for once. Exist in the way he wants to without care. And all he wants right now is to kiss you. 

You couldn’t want anything more. Have been waiting your entire life to feel the press of his lips against your own. Kiss him back without a second thought– without reprieve. Let your mouth slip open easily for him, let everything get as messy as he wants. 

The time for gentle foreplay is over. No, now is the time to consume. 

Without a second thought he lifts you by your hips, your hands falling into place against his shoulder. Letting him lead, letting him take control as he fits his body against yours with such perfect harmony. Nobody would doubt you’re two pieces of the same puzzle, ready to fit together for the rest of eternity. 

He groans when he feels your hips press against his, as he feels your heat seep through layers of clothing. Cusses when he finally pulls back, sees the saliva collected at the corner of your lips. The hazy look in your eye that tells him you need him just as much as he needs you. That you want him so terribly you can’t help but fall against him for love, for safety. 

It’s just the alcohol.

Yoongi practically growls at his own thoughts, his tail rising in defence, in defiance against his own brain. Forcing the thoughts away, forcing everything away other than your body in the room. Other than your desire in the room. 

When his mind is no longer clouded he can come to terms with all of this, come to terms with his feelings and shove them so far back down they’ll never see the light of day– but now, right now he needs this. Needs it more than anything. 

“Want you.” He grunts, his knees falling onto the dirty bathroom floor. His hands splay against your thighs, feeling them. Worshipping the skin as if it is an altar. As if you’re his religion. “Can I?”

He doesn’t have to ask, he doesn’t need to. He would never have to ask you. Every single time you’d fall for the storm that is Min Yoongi. Over and over again. As if it’s as easy as breathing, as easy as thinking. 

The answer is even easier now– as your heart beats in your ears, as arousal pools in your gut. As his blunt fingernails dig themselves ever so slightly into your flesh, begging for entry. Begging for you to just give in. His cheeks a flush, his hair already a wreck. His chest rising and falling and thinking just for you. 

He looks like a god. 

“W-want you.” Your stutter makes you feel meak, but his groan of approval makes you feel strong. Makes you feel like your bubble has been popped, like the world finally has meaning past tornados and cataclysms. 

He takes your approval without any grace. Without a second to even think before he’s pulling your pants down with such hunger, such carnal need. His throat releases a groan of desire as your scent hits him at full force, as you give yourself to him. 

He can’t help himself as he presses his face against your panties, his nose right against your clit as he inhales. Takes in all of you for himself. Lets himself be greedy. 

“Y-Yoongi!” You squeak in surprise, the noise tapering into a whine. How could he do something so embarrassing! What is wrong with–

You can’t even finish the thought before his fingers pull your panties to the side, his eyes focused directly on your wet, needy cunt. “Smell good.” 

If you weren’t entirely red before, you certainly are now. There is no way you couldn’t be. Not with the hunger in his eyes. The fire in your belly. 

His tongue darts out, licking your pussy directly without a second thought. Parting your lips, collecting your arousal on his tongue. Tasting you, basking in everything you. Listening to the pretty little moan that comes from your parted lips. Falling apart without a second thought. 

And suddenly he’s hungry. Hungrier than he’s ever been in his entire life. Hungry in a way that he’s sure can only be satiated by you. By making you his. 

“Fuck, (Y/n)...” He almost sounds more affected than you are, like he could cum from your taste alone. But he can’t, he won’t let himself. He wants, needs to be inside of you more than everything. Needs to fuck you, consume every part of you like he so selfishly craves. 

“Gotta get you ready…” He’s talking to himself more than to you as he stands again, trying to keep himself from succumbing to the scorpion screaming at him to just claim you as his. He can only be selfish for tonight. This night. “You gonna be quiet for me? Can’t get caught.”

“Please…” Your voice is practically a whimper, practically begging him to just do something, anything. And who is he to deny you of such simple pleasures? Especially when you whine just for him, moan just for him. Jut your hips out ever so slightly to present yourself just to him. 

His thumb finds your clit almost instantly as you call out to him. Rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves with quick, fast precision while another digit presses against your leaking hole. Preparing you, getting you ready for the intrusion. 

Your voice is a siren’s song, and Yoongi then knows why pirates used to get lost at sea. Used to become entrapped by the mermaids that sang for them. He feels himself going crazy now, as your head tilts back. As your cunt flutters around nothing, begging him to slide his finger inside just as you both desperately crave. 

A buck of your hips is all he needs to fuck the digit inside, trusting it in and out slowly. Making sure it goes as deep as it can before curling and slowly retracting. Increasing pace with the volume of your sounds, with the circle of your clit. Combining sensation, driving you further and further into the clouds with every movement. 

It is then you know that his hands are a deadly poison, one you know you will fall apart to. Especially with the gentle sounds of his grunts, with the push of a second finger into your hole. With his heated gaze focused on nothing but how well you’re taking him, how you’re stretching so prettily around his fingers. 

You place your hand over your mouth, try to keep your moans to a minimum. Try to suppress every little sound that threatens to spill past your lips. Yet you can’t help it, how could you when he knows exactly where to curl his fingers? When they press right against that little bundle of nerves inside. When they rub against you so perfectly. 

“Y-Yoongi!” You accidentally shout, your hips bucking in surprise. The band growing tighter and tighter in your lower abdomen. Your eyes clouding with pleasure as your head feels lighter and lighter. 

He only smirks, gentle and sinful. “Found it.” 

He thrusts his fingers back in the exact same way, their pace hurried. Concise. Locating that exact same spot over and over again, curling his fingers up just right. Timing the strokes perfectly with a roll of your clit. You feel like you could scream, you’re going to scream.

“Y-You’re so mean!” You whimper, the hand on your clit moving to hold your thighs down. To resist your messy bucking. Resist your adorable begging for more. This other thumb moving to press against your clit instead. 

Then you see it, see the pretty brown thing that had you so enamoured to begin with. Remember just how sensitive it was when you touched it first, and just how mean he’s being to you now. 

With all the clarity you have left in your little brain you reach for his tail, hold it in your tiny hands. Whimper at how big it is, how strong it feels. How much it protects you. And without a second thought, you wrap your lips around the tip of it and moan. Using it as a gag, using it to stop your cries. 

Yoongi suddenly tenses below you, his entire frame shifting as your mouth sucks on the tip. Your eyes closed in concentration, little tears bubbling up in the corners as you whine around him. Fully focused on your pleasure, the feeling of his fingers inside of you– so close to falling apart. 

He thinks he could cum at that second. He’s sure of it. 

A choked groan leaves his own lips as his fingers resume their pace, his senses going into overdrive. No longer thinking, no longer able to do anything but act. But take and take and give and give until there's nothing left.

And god he wants to burn this picture into his brain. Wants to cement it into the rest of his thoughts, his very being. His movements are messier, faster as he fucks his fingers into your cunt. Doesn’t care about the noise as his tail moves on its own, slowly thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your g-spot battered, you clit burning with pleasure. 

Sounds that resemble words fall deaf on your tongue as the band finally breaks, as the world around you spins. As you find euphoria from Yoongi’s fingers. The eye of the storm befalling your very being as electricity moves down your spine as the winds subside. 

You’re left panting in front of him, your walls tightening as he slowly coaxes you through it. Helps you feel every ounce of pleasure that you deserve. Kisses your shoulder gently, softly, watching you come down from your high. 

You can only whine at the affection, the fog lifting for a brief second as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. You feel so empty– too empty. You still want him. You still want so much more. 

You try to say his name, try to vocalise but it only sends vibrations down his tail. A groan leaving his lips, heat still heavy in his eyes. You realise his tail is still moving, still slowly moving in and out of your mouth. You know he isn’t finished.

You know you never want him to be. 

You raise your leg up, kicking, trying to push his pants down. Begging them to just drop a little lower. To get his cock out so he can fuck you properly. So he can make you feel so much more full of everything him. 

He lets out a chuckle of a scoff, his bangs falling in front of his eyes as he shakes his head, “Needy.” He grunts, yet he feels the exact same way. Removing his tail from your mouth, finally letting you speak. Ignoring the way his heart hammers at the sight of your puffy, glossed lips. 

“Shut up.” Is the only reply you can muster, hands quickly moving to try and shove his pants down. To try and get him inside of you. He just smiles, the predatory glint never leaving his eyes. The dig of his nails never leaving your thigh. 

Finally, with your messy attempts you urge them down, force the annoying material down his thighs, his boxers moving right along with it. And fuck, you can’t help but gawk. Can’t help but whine because shit, you’ve never seen a cock so pretty! What the hell! That isn’t fair! None of this is fair and he hates you!

“You hate me.” You whimper, letting him take the lead once again. Following as he slowly leans you back, manoeuvres your hips in exactly the way he wants. Presents your puffy, fluttering cunt just for him. Messy and aching, desperate for more. 

“Maybe.” He smiles, teasing you. He’s teasing you! Can you believe that! You certainly can’t, a whine and a gentle smack to his chest telling him everything he needs to hear. Yet you’re forgetting about it all too quickly as you feel the head of something hard gently press against your lips.

In your hazed stupor, you completely missed the action. The way he gripped his cock in his hands, the languid strokes he’s made up and down the length. The way he flicked his thumb over the head just before he decided to so sinfully trace it along your slit. Teasing himself, tracing around your hole with the head. You think he might kill you. 

He thinks much of the same. 

“I’m on birth control.” You messily squeak out of the blue, eyes trained between your bodies where he’s so close. So very close to fucking himself inside. Into being exactly where you want him. Snapping that final line you two could never come back from. 

His eyes dart up to your face, something dark in the iris. Something neither of you address as he finally lets go of his last bit of reserve. As his lips slam into yours, consuming your very being. 

His hand finds your leg, pulling it up, resting it against his hip to draw you closer. In one single thrust drawing all the air out of your lungs, removing all thoughts from your head as he thrusts his entire length inside. Filling you, stretching you in the most perfect way. In a way you never imagined another person could do.

Your cries are drowned by his lips, his own curses lost in the same. The stretch, the burn is subtle, yet you could never want anything less. Anything more than the euphoric feeling of Yoongi feeling your ever being. 

“Shit…” He finally lets himself breathe, let himself have a moment to feel you. Feel your plush walls wrapped around his length, feel you fluttering around him so perfectly. You’re going to make him insane. 

He pants softly, trying to wait– trying to hold himself back from fucking you so hard you can’t walk. So hard he’ll have to carry you out of this shitty bar. So that everyone will know what the two of you did. Just who you belong to. 

You give an experimental wiggle of your hips, a signal to move. A signal to stop holding back. The only signal that he needs. 

“Yoongi!” The cry is loud, but he can’t seem to care anymore. The pace he takes is anything but slow. It's fast, hard. Rushed. Like he can’t wait a single second longer. Can’t waist a fucking millisecond doing anything else other than laying claim to your soul. 

His hips snap against your own, his cock practically hitting your cervix with every thrust. His cock pressed against that same bundle inside every time he draws back, every time he fills you again and again. It’s messy– messy and so wet. So perfect. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He mutters to himself, damp hair falling into his eyes, “Have to be quick, gonna fuck you hard, okay?” 

He drawls, scratchy. Rough. Pressing his hips fully against yours, fully feeling your slick heat. The lewd noises bouncing against the walls, filling the space. Sending a symphony into your strumming ears. Into your already worn out frame. 

You nod in agreement quickly, almost dumbly as you try to fall into a rhythm. Try to meet his movements the best you can. It feels pointless, all of it does. Trying to do anything feels so pointless when he’s fucking you so relentlessly. Like he’s waited his entire life for this moment and he’d rather die than waste another second.

Fucking you like it means something. Like you mean everything.

“Shit, (Y/n). So fucking wet.” He groans, his head rolling back, no longer able to look at the mess between your legs, “So needy.” 

You whine, shaking your head. Trying to gain a semblance of reality when it feels like it has been shattered in the most beautiful way.

“Sh-Shut up!” You whine, your walls clenching around his cock, “A-Am! Am not!” 

Your denial sends a wave of something through Yoongi. Something that makes him growl, that makes his sight darken just a bit more. 

“You’re not?” He scoffs, his eyes finding your own, reading you like an open book, “Little fucking liar.” 

His pace changes, taking shape into a different beast entirely. Something new. His thrusts turn from messy, hurried to sharp and precise– the pace never changing. Every single thrust knocking the wind from your lungs, changing the very shape of your DNA to scream for him and only him.

“Y-Yoongi what the fuck?!” You whine, your head knocking back, hitting the glass behind you. Even more of your brain cells scrambling, trying to stay in reality. Trying not to float off in the great beyond where Yoongi wants you to stay. 

“Hmm?” He grunts, his eyes focused back downwards. Right to where your slick coats him, to where a pretty white ring has formed around the base. He won’t last long. Even if he wants to keep fucking you forever, he knows he’s done for. “Thought you weren’t needy.”

You whine, unable to stop the band from pulling tight in your gut once again. Unable to stop the pleasure from coursing through your veins. Already a wreck– your body warm with sweat and your hole fluttering uselessly around him. Trying to draw him back in over and over.

Never get him to leave. 

His voice is suddenly in your ear, far closer than you remember him being. Far closer than you can manage him being. Fuck, and now his thumb is pressing against your clit again. You don’t know what you can do, what to do. 

“You can cum if you just admit it, human.” You’re going insane. “Tell me how fucking needy you are for me. C’mon, do it. I know you can.” 

It’s over for you. You had no clue Yoongi could ever be like this, no clue just how much you’d want it. How much you’d love it. Even as tears bubble in the corners of your eyes from the pleasure, even as your hips buck up weakly to meet his thrusts. As his cock makes you feel like you’re about to enter the pearly gates. 

You know you love it. 

“Y-Yoongi!” You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders with so much strength you think they might bruise. Hell, you’re sure he’s bruised your hips. There isn’t much difference. “I-I!” 

“Mhmm..” He hums, sounding entirely unaffected on the surface, yet it’s clear he’s falling apart just as much as you. Clear in the way his hips stutter so slightly, losing their pace. Clear in the way he holds you tighter and tighter. The way his tail curls possessively around your leg. “You can do it. Say it, human.”

“I-I’m needy!” You whine, forgetting your volume, “I-I need you, Yoongi!” 

Just like that, he’s tumbling off the edge. Your words acting as an anchor, as the very thing he’s wanted to hear for years. His hips stuttering inside of you, filling your cunt with his cum without a second thought. 

“Cum, pretty thing.” His voice is guttural. A command as your legs lock around him. His thumb never giving your clit reprise.  while he doesn’t stop the movement of his thumb. Your own release finding you the second you feel his cock twitch inside of you, the moment you feel his cum leak inside. 

Winds swirl at your very being. Lifting you higher and higher into the clouds as your walls clench around him. Milking him for everything, for all he’s worth. Making sure every drop lands inside, making sure you stay nice and full of him while your head wanders into the clouds. While every bit of your being feels fireworks. 

Your legs don’t even let go as the two of you slowly begin to calm down. As your heart rates try to return to normal and air returns to your lungs. As Yoongi’s length slowly begins to soften inside of your cute, worn little cunt. 

You don’t want to let go. You never want to let go. 

His grip slowly softens on your hip. Thumb working to rub slow, gentle circles in their place. His lips finding the column of your throat once more– gentle, nipping kisses find home over the marks he left while sitting at the bar. Not any real bonding  marks like his scorpion may have wanted, but pretty red things that claim your skin in a human way. 

Your fingers find his strands, knotting themselves in them. Keeping his head where it belongs. You’ve never felt more loved, more wanted in this moment. 

You never want it to end. 

“Needy…” He smiles to himself, shaking his head softly. His hair tickles your ear. “Can’t believe you actually said it.” 

“Y-you!” You try, realising how severely you’re still out of breath. You hate how quickly he’s bounced back. “You made me! You ass!” 

He only smiles, shaking his head. Still in complete and utter disbelief that this is real, “I wanted to hear it. You were cute.” 

Your legs finally relax when you whine. They easily fall on either side of him, kicking slightly in petulance as he pulls away from your cunt. Removing himself from you, smiling as his cum starts to collect at your opening. 

This still all has to be a dream for him, it has to be. 

“You hate me!” You repeat again, warmth coming to your cheeks once more as his hands find your cunt. One thump pulling your lip open, letting him see just how much of a mess he’s made you. Letting him watch as his cum drips from your core. 

“Maybe.” He can’t help the fond glow in his eyes as he kisses your cheek. A thought coming to the forefront of his brain that he forces back. Another thought he could never let surface, not even now as you’re stuffed with his cum. 

His scorpion still preens all the same, though. Filled with thoughts of kids. Thoughts Yoongi, the human, not the scorpion, would never say aloud. Drunk, tipsy, or sober. 

He reaches for the dispenser, grabbing a few paper towels before turning on the sink and running them under. Not the best tool, but it will do. 

“Well, I don’t hate you…” You’re blushing as you say the words, almost embarrassed without real reason to be. What you just did, it was so much more than ‘I don’t hate you.’ At least, it wasn’t to you. You hope it wasn’t for him either. 

You help him with his pants, reaching your hands down and pulling them up slowly for him, “I don’t hate you either.” He rolls his eyes, gently cleaning the space between your legs. 

“Awkward if you did.” You huff, lifting your hips as he moves your underwear back in place. Stay hovering as he slides your jeans back up as well. 

He leaves a gentle press against your temple, offering you a hand as you hop off the counter. Hips and legs already entirely too sore, a whine shedding your throat as you let him know the pain. All while he only laughs, patting your butt as he helps you walk.

The picture of domesticity. 

Neither of you address the elephant in the room, both for entirely different reasons. For radically different realities. The morning would be better anyway, you surmise. With fluid thoughts and no liquor in your system. 

You assume Yoongi feels the same way as you both walk home. Gentle shoulders and banter thrown around as casually as ever. The only solid thing the both of you know: you can never go back to that bar again.

God, your fucking head hurts. Maybe?? Maybe everything hurts? When the hell did the sun get so loud?! Since when did light feel like fucking screaming, man?! This isn’t fair! Nothing is fair and the world hates you! Exclusively you, and no one but you!

No, that’s not true. That’s completely illogical, actually. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. Especially when your head is buzzing and your stomach is already growling for some kind of food. 

Oh god, food would be so good right now. Warm steamy pancakes, eggs, some kind of potato with a dash of Yoongi to eat it with like you do every morning. 

Suddenly, the other side of the bed feels entirely too cold. Freezing. A void empty where the warmth you felt last night should reside.

He fell asleep there, you're sure of it. You remember the feeling of his arms around you, the soft snores that left his lips after you both stumbled into bed. Barely getting undressed before falling into your bed. You remember everything about last night. So much so that you can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks at the memory. The thought of everything done in that dingy bathroom, all the words spoken, the care professed. 

Even if you were tipsy, you would never forget it. You would never regret it. Were waiting to wake up in his arms to make everything official– a long overdue conversation that would finally set in motion your lives together. 

So where the hell is he?

A pout forms on your lips as you stretch, your body too tight for the morning and even more so for your search. The soreness in your hips, the bruises he left from his grip a brutal reminder of his absence as you sit up, your eyes squinting as you scope the scene.

You don’t think you like what you see– it’s a weird feeling, honestly. His bag is gone, his shoes are gone, his clothes are gone. For the first time in all the years you’ve known him, he feels utterly gone. Not a speck of him in your room, not a single sign he was even on this trip with you. 

Does he regret…

The frown pulls deeper as you reach for your phone. You definitely don’t like this feeling. Like he wasn’t even there to begin with after everything that just happened. 

“Ah, stop it.” You say to yourself, one of your hands coming up to gently pat your cheek. You hate where your brain is going so quickly. Maybe you’re just a sop that needed more aftercare than he knew about– yeah, that's probably it. He probably just wanted to go back to his own room and shower before you had to work today. See, that makes much more sense, doesn’t it? You nod your head, almost in agreement with your thoughts. Set on your decision, on the most-likely-possible solution. 

[9:27am] To: Poongie

> Goodmorning :> I hope you slept well 

> Did you wanna go get breakfast at the diner? I think I’m dying and only hashbrowns can fix me unfortunately 

You wish you could say you weren’t affected– wish you could say you weren’t sitting there, waiting for a response. Heart beating out of your chest like a schoolgirl in love. It’s silly, isn’t it? What emotions can make you feel inside and out. How they can seem to affect every part of your being without even trying. 

You suppose storms are the same way. Suppose all natural forces are– the sun, the moon, the stars. They all have their own cosmic power that distils someone at their very core. Leaving them waiting, abating in agony over a simple text back from the man you like. 

You toss your phone to the side, choosing to get ready instead of imagining anymore fantasies. You live in reality, a woman of science. There’s no sense in trying to explain everything you feel, only accepting that you feel it. 

Mmm. As you get dressed, you wonder how long you’ll be able to go on like that for. 

[10:02] From: Poongie

> gm

> i already ate

Oh. You don’t like that. In fact, you hate it so much you want to start making a powerpoint presentation on how to text just for him. But, you give him the benefit of the doubt once more. Yoongi has never been a good texter, anyway. You’re lucky if you can get more than a two word reply from him. He prefers phone calls. 

[10:03] To: Poongie

> So u hate me okay

> Come sit with me tho, I don’t want to look like a loser

> Meet me down there in 5 ;P

You give a soft smile as he reacts to your final text with a thumbs up. It doesn’t leave you feeling the best, but he’s not avoiding you entirely. And he never has been a morning person. Plus, he’s probably hungover too and doesn’t wanna look at his phone screen. You two are fine and last night was amazing. And soon you could make everything official. 

Your smile grows. Yeah. Yeah, that all makes perfect sense. 

You know what doesn’t? A lot of things, actually. Too many to count, but you try anyway. 

One. 

Yoongi walking in 10 minutes late acting like nothing happened. Like you didn’t happen. Just sliding into the seat across from yours, the thick plastic of the booth squeaking while he does so. His hands stuffed in his pants, nothing but a nod in your direction to acknowledge your existence. His face utterly blank, entirely neutral. 

Never once has Yoongi greeted you with less than a gummy smile. A ruffle of your hair. A jab at your tired appearance. But you ignore it– ignore the sense of unease, of dread already building inside. He must really have a bad hangover, poor guy. 

“Goodmorning!” You chirp brightly, a smile of a thousand suns cast in only his direction. Your usual greeting, of course. Maybe just a little extra chipper to balance him out. To try and prepare yourself, maybe to get a little excited for the conversation to come. Pull him out of any awkward tension he may be feeling. 

“Goodmorning.” He simply replies back, his eyes following the waitress as she places a cup of coffee, extra sweet, in front of him. His usual order. Something you’d never forget. Something he knows you’d never forget, but the way he stares into the warm liquid says otherwise. 

His eyes never stray from the cup, like he's thinking. Like he wants to say something but doesn’t quite know how. Like he isn’t sure whether to ignore it or bring it to light. 

You know that look well, and you don’t want to ignore it. 

Two. 

He calls the waitress back and orders another coffee. Black. 

He hates his coffee black. You know this. Everyone does. He hasn’t had the stuff since before he met you. You opened him to the world of how delicious sweet drinks can be. So why the hell is he planning on pretending to like something he doesn’t? It makes no sense to you– your expression shows it all. Eyebrows quirking together, lips pushing outwards slightly. 

“Wow, the great Min Yoongi is changing up his order?” A creature of habit never does, you would know yourself, “Hangover that bad?” 

You try to lighten the mood, raise the cloud that hangs above the booth. Or maybe it’s a cloud only you feel, you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway, does it? 

“Mmm, you could say that.” He grunts, his chin tucking ever so slightly to his chest. His tail curling closer. Almost defensive. Almost.

“God yeah,” The conversation feels stunted, and you hate that even more. “My head has been throbbing since I woke up. I don’t know if I drank too much or not enough.” The banter isn’t flowing as easily, and he curls in on himself even more. Almost like the mere mention of last night rings alarm bells in his mind. 

Oh! Okay, yeah. Maybe he’s just nervous about everything that happened, you know? Maybe he’s worried that you don’t remember, or that you’re having different feelings about it. Maybe his brain is playing the same tricks on him that trickled into your consciousness that morning! 

Yeah, okay. That makes so much more sense now that you think about it. You have to stop beating around the bush, just come out and say everything you think. Everything you feel and you can talk about it. You’ll just bring it up– he obviously isn’t going to, but then you’ll be in a relationship by the time your pancakes come out! Perfect! 

Yet as you look up at him, find his face utterly void of anything, your confidence wanes. 

Three.

He’s refusing to look at you. Another thing he never does. You’re always the one to avoid eye contact, never him. You’re always the one to stare out the window, not him. He normally looks at you. Normally basks in you. 

You feel your mouth drying, all words becoming lost on your tongue the longer you stare at his disposition. You don’t break it as the silence becomes awkward, as he doesn’t try to do anything to fix it. Simply sips at his coffee. His disgusting coffee. 

Drinks it until it empties. Until the pancakes now in front of you remain nearly untouched and cold. Until the world stops spinning and time freezes. As the comet hits and the world ends. As society descends into chaos yet you can’t do anything but look at him. 

Okay, maybe you’re exaggerating. But that’s exactly how it feels for some strange reason. How it feels to be unable to reach him. 

It isn’t until he grabs his coat, sliding $30 across the table that you finally gain the courage to speak. Finally blurt out the words sitting on the tip of your tongue for the last 20 minutes. 

“We should talk about last night.” You didn’t expect to say anything honestly, shocked at the air leaving your lungs. 

And finally, finally he looks at you. The diner is still frozen, yes, but now he’s looking at you and for some reason that’s all that matters.

A deep drag of air fills his lungs as he sags his shoulders, rigid disposition weakening in attempt to show signs of aloof. His tail gives everything away. Sharp and pointed. Unnerved. 

“What is there to talk about?” 

Oh. 

“What?” You feel blood leave your face, “Everything. There’s everything to talk about.” 

He sighs, his eyes almost rolling at your words. Everything he does is ten times louder. Ten times greater than any storm, any power in the entire universe. 

Four. 

“Listen, (Y/n). Last night was a mistake, okay?”

Oh.

Is it possible for the Earth to stop rotating around the sun? For the moon to find home in another planet? Is it possible for the rings of Saturn to disband, to crack and shatter, leaving the planet feeling hollow? No more than a gaseous ball floating around an unyielding core forcing it to stay together?

It has to be. Because if it’s possible for Yoongi to say those very words, say the very words that are able to rip your soul from your body, you think anything is. 

You feel something in you crack. Something so fragile and innocent that you want to protect it with your everything. Run far and hide. Nurse it alone until it stops kicking and screaming for its unending pain to yield. For it to have rest in a world that only seems to take and take and take. 

“What?” You don’t even care that your voice cracks. 

He sighs again, his gaze dropping to the table. “I just don’t think there’s anything to talk about, okay?”

“There’s a lot to talk about.” Your eyebrows crinkle, your mouth moving into a frustrated frown. Red isn’t a colour you feel often, but your walls are up. Your bubble now a sphere frozen in time– a place with room for no one but you. Your body curled around that innocent glow. Protecting it. Keeping it warm. “For one, calling it a mistake.” 

He’s rigid again too, maybe red glowing around his form as well. But you can’t seem to care. Not right now. Maybe not ever. Not able to sense the danger. The tail pointed in your direction. Venom dripping from his lips.

“Wasn’t it? We’re friends (Y/n). One stupid night shouldn’t change that shit.” It changes fucking everything. Especially with your pining. Especially with your heart on your sleeve. With your affections for him always oh-so-fucking obvious. 

“Like hell it–” He cuts you off. 

“We’re done with this conversation. Just forget last night ever happened.” He stands, not planning on waiting around anymore. Not waiting for you anymore. “Just act like it never did. Nothing has to change. We’re not talking about this anymore.” 

With that he leaves without letting you speak. Without letting you talk. Shutting you down entirely in a way he never has before. In a way he promised he would never do to you. And for the first time since you discovered your crush on him, you feel something negative simmering for Min Yoongi. 

Q/Hybrids_Humans 

U/YGS_Min  •  posted 5y ago

Can Hybrids and Humans actually fall in love? -> Advice

> Hi. I’m new to this page so I might get things wrong with this post. Sorry in advance if I do. 

> I am a Hybrid and I recently met a girl who I think is my mate. I get all the classic mate feelings someone does when I’m around her. When we first met, a few days ago in the library, I automatically felt a pull towards her. Like I needed to be close to her. Everything in my body, my hybrid side especially, was begging for me to make her my mate right away. She even complimented my tail. Does she even know what that means? What it did to me?

> After that, she gave me her number (I’m helping her with a few things) (we're both ‘in’ college) and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Whenever I open my phone my brain automatically fries and moves to open her contact so I can text or call her. It actually feels a little crazy. 

> She said she wants to be friends and I don’t know what my brain is going to do if we actually get closer. 

>The issue is that she's human, though. So I already know she doesn’t feel the same way about me. She doesn’t feel the bond or the pull to get closer. And she already knows I’m a hybrid so there’s no way to avoid it. 

> I’m also not the most friendly Hybrid, I guess. People don’t like my species. My mom doesn’t even like the way I was born. And I’m lucky enough to get away from where I was before and am living my own life now. Trying to do good things with it. Maybe be human with it, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway. 

> Point is, I’ve looked online and while I know legally it is possible to be mates with a human, I haven’t found anything about Human’s with more odd species. And I really just want to know if this could be possible, or if I should give up before things even start. She’s the prettiest person I’ve ever seen. Her mannerisms kill me– I love them. She’s so cute. And she acted like I was just like everyone else. 

> I don’t know. I want her to be my mate. But I just want to know other peoples experiences. I know she’d never be able to love me in the way I automatically do her, but if I told her she was my mate would she feel forced into it? Would she feel like I actually care? Could she ever actually care? Should I do anything about it or just pretend that it was never there in the first place? 

> I never thought my mate might be human. I never thought I'd find my mate. Any advice would be appreciated. Thanks. 

6 am. 

Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s slept. He’s not sure he’s ever slept with the exhaustion weighing on his bones. His consciousness. His very being. In fact, all he’s had is his thoughts as the hours have ticked by, unrelenting. Unwavering. As the sun starts to shine through the curtains and the reality of everything that transpired rushes to the surface. Past the alcohol. Past your adorable soft snores. 

He had you. He fucked you. For one night, you belonged to him. 

The first thing he felt after he held you in bed was peace. Complete and utter satisfaction with life, with you. Everything itching at him, pulling him towards you was, for once, content. He no longer felt the burning in his heart or the pulling at his skin to get you closer. The fuzziness in his brain whenever you smiled. All of it was gone. There was nothing but happiness in his being. 

Nothing but the ideas of his dream being true. Of getting to hold you like this every night. Getting you to smile for him, only him. Getting to belong to you in ways humans could never understand. 

In ways you could never understand. 

Something else starts creeping into his consciousness, then. Something starting in the pit of his stomach, rising until it feels like he's choking. Until not even the scent of your shampoo can calm the race of his heart. Not even the pull of his tail drawing you closer to his body– his hybrid side trying to calm him down in ways it only knows how. 

How could Yoongi let himself live in such a sick dream? 

You’re a human. He’s a hybrid. You would never actually love him. 

Your words were drunk– of course they were. Influenced by the alcohol and the idea of a warm body next to your own. Maybe you didn’t even realise it was him, maybe it could have been anyone and you would have been satisfied. 

It’s such an ugly thing, the words he thinks. The ideas that form behind his skull, twisting and turning. Forming an amalgamation of tangles and death defying drops to nothingness. Of the reality of things, his reality that is. One where he’s worthless. One where you are the sun and he is nothing but an asteroid following the orbit of someone else. 

Hybrids are never meant to be with humans. 

He knows that for a fact. Has read all the history books, looked at all the articles, scoured for any sign that the two of you could be together in a society that hates him only to be left with mockery. Left with anonymous strangers telling him that scorpions are meant to kill. Meant to destroy. How could a human ever care about him when his entire life he’s been told it’s the worst parts of himself? How could you care about him?

Well, he knows that isn’t all true. He knows you care in some ways. But they aren’t mate ways and–

Fuck. Fuck Yoongi, he knows he’s not supposed to think of those things. He’s never allowed to think of you and that word together. He forbade himself of it. Promised himself it couldn’t be true. That he would never admit it to you or anyone else. 

You are not his mate. 

But you are. 

But–

He wishes he could get his head to shut the fuck up for a fucking second so he could think. Think about anything other than those two words together, even if he knew them to be true from the moment he met you in the library. When he agreed to be your tutor. When he fell in love the moment you looked his way. 

And even then he thought that maybe, just maybe if you didn’t know he was a hybrid he would have a chance. That if he could keep it hidden for long enough, if you saw him as a human and not a terrifying creature bred only to kill, that you could fall for him. That he could be your mate– boyfriend. That he could be your boyfriend. 

But then you saw it. Saw the fucking thing he wishes he never had, wishes he could live without. The very thing he has been hated for his entire life. His genetic abnormality, originally bred to be used for attack, used by the government to kill. The very piece of his being he rejects time and time again to try and just feel a little more normal, a little more human. And you… you said you liked it. 

And no, you didn’t have any clue what those words meant at the time. Of course you didn’t. Didn’t know what they implied– didn’t know the true meaning they held. The acceptance of courtship behind their very tone. 

A nice tail to a human? Nothing. A nice tail to a scorpion? The very thing used by the hybrid to attract mates? To show their viability and strength as a partner? Everything. 

In that moment, you were everything. 

But you didn’t know the meaning behind those words. You didn’t love him the way he so implicitly did you. And while you accepted him as a friend, you would never accept him as more. He would never let you. 

That night was the night he promised himself you weren’t his mate. Promised himself he had no mate. 

Last night was the first time he ever broke it. 

Last night he could have killed you. 

You had his tail in your mouth. His tail. The tail that carries his venom. The venom bred into his cells meant to kill others. If he let any of it out by accident… if he…

Fuck. 

The heaviness that realisation brings is what finally makes him get out of bed. Finally set in motion reality. Stop himself from living in whatever dream he was playing with. Stop playing house with a girl that would never be his. That would probably think the entirety of last night was a mistake. 

Who gives a shit what you thought. He could’ve killed you. He could’ve killed his fucking mate.

Societally, he could’ve never had you. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if you had to face the same things he did on the daily. What others thought of you. What they would say about you if they saw you two together. What would happen with your kids. How much hate and fear you would receive by being with him. 

He could sacrifice his own life for you a thousand times, but he would never let you do the same for him.

And last night. Last night his venom could’ve been your end. 

He doesn’t need to think anymore. He knows what he’s going to do. Even if it hurts him. Even if the grenade is set to go off and destroy his very being, it’s worth it to keep you safe. To keep you content. To keep you away from him.

Best case, you don’t remember last night or don’t bring it up. Worst…

Yoongi knows the ship he’s boarding is bound to sink– that he’s destined to drown. But if it means your happiness, he’d do anything.

The car feels cold. The heat is blasting, but it still feels frozen. Decrepit. All fireplace memories hazing into ice as you ride next to him. 

Him.

Fucking him.

Fucking Min Yoongi. The fucking asshole that tore your heart out and stomped on it. The fucking asshole that didn’t even have the decency to talk to you. To explain why the fuck he was being so cold. The fucking asshole that made you feel loved. Like you weren’t alone in the entire universe, only to make you realise you were trapped in a metal box– steaming. Bubbling.

Maybe you aren’t cold. No, you definitely aren’t. You’re steaming. Burning up– ready to explode at the slightest thing. Still a burning blaze because he didn’t fucking let you talk. Just shut you down without a second thought. Without fucking anything.

Not that he owes you anything– he doesn’t owe you a relationship. He doesn’t owe you love, of course not. You’re not dumb enough to think that. But you do know he owes you an explanation. A chance to speak. Years of friendship tell you that much. 

Promises tell you that much. 

And you can’t fucking stand broken promises. Can’t stand acting like strangers after years of friendship. After all the time spent together. After all of the memories formed, all the bonds created. You don’t deserve to be treated like nothing. 

Hell, he probably wouldn’t have even come with you today if you hadn’t texted him. Probably assumed you’d rather go alone or with one of the other people on the crew. Probably– shut up, you decide in that moment to stop making excuses for him. To stop giving him the benefit of the doubt when he treated you as no less than a one-night-stand. A fuck that meant nothing. 

Were fucking years of friendship just for that? Just so he could fuck you? This fucking–

You scoff to yourself, crossing your arms over your chest. Shaking your head. An outloud reaction to the continued spiral that started this morning, that will continue to brew until it inevitably boils over. Until the pot filled with too much water gets too hot and just boils over. 

You never have been able to keep your opinions in. Open book pages laid out for the world to see. Another reason you’ve always been alone– should have stayed alone in your bubble. 

“What?” Oh, he wants to talk to you now? 

Your eyes shoot over to his figure from the corner of your eye. You can’t believe that yesterday you were smiling at him. You hate that today a piece of you still frets at the trapping of his fingers against the wheel. At his apparent aloof demeanour is automatically disillusioned by the simple movement indicating his nerves. 

He always does that when he knows a big storm is coming– when he’s worried about safety, your safety. When he's concerned about whatever events are going to follow. A tick tick tick, fingers tapping delicately one after the other. Not a harsh grab against the wheel, not an unease of temperament. Yoongi, even when nervous or agitated, has always been gentle. 

Well, every time except for this morning. 

You roll your eyes. 

As much as you hate how self destructive you become in times like these, you hate the bubbling feeling even more. Hate the strong emotion that floods your veins, the same one that makes you feel oh-so weak. The same one that makes you need to be strong. Need to be more.

Maybe you wish you could be more like Yoongi– be entirely unaffected by the strong feelings that permeate your being. Maybe you wish you could act as ‘chill’ as him. To separate how you feel from who you are. To be calm even if you want to be brash. 

But you can’t. Not when it's about him. Never when it’s about him. Almost like a piece of you continues and will always pull you towards Min Yoongi. 

You turn away from him, back to the laptop resting in your lap. “The PAR says a tornado is forming north-east. Head North so we can drop the doppler in the right position.”

“Mm.” He grunts. Doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t do anything. 

You don’t know what you expect him to do anyway. You didn’t give him anything to work with. Yet it doesn’t seem thinking logically is on the table, and you can’t help but get more mad, more frustrated by the second.

“Are we really not going to talk about this?” You’re quiet, almost vulnerable when you ask the question. So quiet he might not even hear. Hanging on the precipice, two winds twisting against each other in equal strength. 

Never have you felt this way about another person before. Dejection and anger weigh equally on the soul. You don’t quite know how to handle it. Don’t know how to combat what you’re feeling inside, just knowing the kettle is set to boil. 

He doesn’t answer your question. 

It was probably a bad idea to text him. Probably equally bad for him to answer and take you. An even worse idea to let the words slip out of your mouth without holding them back.

“Asshole.” The wind starts to pick up speed around the car, sucking you in. Pulling you deeping into the void. It’ll be no time at all before the tornado hits. 

“What?” His head jerks backwards, chin tucking ever so slightly to his chest. His tail coiled firmly behind him, acting like it isn’t even there. Trying to pretend he isn't there, maybe. 

“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” You can’t help the rumble that forms in your heart, the twisted words that spew from your mouth. The subtle ache from every insult you fling. 

Almost like you’re attached to him. Like you’re attempting to sever a chain never meant to come undone. 

“What the fuck?” Why he’s acting so scandalised, flinching at every word, leaves you almost confused. Almost. Because he has no reason to be confused, at least not in your eyes. Not in the storm's eyes either. 

The rumble of thunder hammers outside, deeper into the freeze. Deeper into ash. 

“I thought we were going to move past this, (Y/n). We need to be adults here.” He sighs that stupid fucking sigh that you hate. The same one he used in the diner. The same one he used to brush off your feelings. Your chance to speak. 

Maybe later you would reflect on how selfish you’re being. Maybe later you would realise how childish you actually are acting. But right now all you can see is red. Right now all you can feel is a part of yourself trying to rip away. 

Maybe later you would find out Yoongi is feeling the exact same thing. 

But right now, right now all you see is red. All you hear is the beating of hail against the car roof, the image that it is your own heartbeat set in your own mind. Right now all you know is the soul crushing weight of the only man you ever loved pulling away.

Your soulmate– if such things were real, breaking the bond. 

“Are you serious? I’m the one that needs to be the adult here? Me?” You scoff, indignant. “You’re the one playing pretend, acting like nothing happened!” 

“I told you that we shouldn’t talk about it.” 

“You said it was a mistake.” Your eyes are set firm in a glare pointed at him and no one but him. Petty and Spite are your new best friends. Congratulations! “Just tell me if you fucking regret it Yoongi, just tell me.”

“(Y/n).” 

“Was it a drunk accident? Did you think I was someone else? Please! I rather you say fucking something than nothing at all! Please just let me be selfish for once! I’m begging for something! Anything!”

…

“We have a job to do. Focus on it rather than us.” You hate that he paused before he spoke, that it gave you some sort of hope. You hate even more that his tone has not once changed– settling from incredulous to neutral. Almost like he exists as nothing but a robot reciting lines. You hate it. You hate it. You hate it. 

He makes you feel like a child throwing a tantrum. He makes it feel like your feelings mean nothing. Like everything you trusted him with was all for naught. Are you not expressing yourself well enough? Are you a complete idiot? What the fuck are you doing wrong?! What's wrong?!

“You’re serious?” The logical side of you says he’s right, your job is more important than anything else. But the piece of you falling apart, pulling away and leaving an empty hole inside feels otherwise. You’re convinced you’ve never felt any emotion other than frustration and annoyance. 

The car rolls to a stop as a clearing hits– hail ceasing, wind slowing even if it's just a fraction.  A calm before the storm. Where you’re meant to ‘dO yOuR jOb’-- fucking asshole. Does he really think you don’t know that? Does he really think that little of you?

“Fucking joke.” You can’t help the dry laugh that exits your lungs as you step out of the car. Your peace, the time you love to spend most in the world set askew, your feelings anything but. You love your time in the storms, but the tornado brewing inside casts a much larger shadow than the one overhead. 

Your hands fumble as they move the DOW out of the trunk– an action you’ve done time and time again feeling entirely foreign. Your body clumsy as it carries it to the front, your mouth spewing annoyed half thoughts all the way. 

“What?” Yoongi’s window is rolled down, his head leaning out of the front as he asks. 

Your eyes circle your skull again, “Fucking joke!” You call, trying to set up the radar. Your body only half in the moment. Half in the clouds. 

“This whole thing is one big joke!” You shout, foot kicking the dirt beneath your feet. The storm beginning to dissipate, a swell of rain forming behind your eyelids instead. 

“(Y/n) are you serious?!” You hate that his own frustration feels like a punch to the gut. 

“I have been this whole time!” You shout, brain finally working to kick the last pieces of the radar in place. In good time too, the wind is picking up again. The tornado will be coming soon. 

“Are you?! Are we seriously not going to talk about this?!” Your voice doesn’t feel like your own. It feels foreign, like something deeper inside is speaking for you– like it’s taking control. “Am I seriously just a cheap fuck to you?! Was I really a mistake, Yoongi?! Please, please just tell me.” 

“(Y/n), don’t do this to me…” Don’t do this to him? Don’t do this to him?! Does he realise what he’s doing to you? Does he even fucking care? You told him you want him! That nothing could keep you from him– and he doesn’t even have the decency to reject you properly. 

Maybe you're the bad guy– the villain for forcing this. For the path of destruction it might cause. But you truly can’t stand this. And maybe, just for once, the consequences mean as little to you as getting swallowed by the storms you’ve always cared for.

Yoongi is your impossible, remember? “But it’s always been about you! Don’t you get that, Yoongi?! It’s always! Always been about you from the second I met you!” You yell, not holding back your shouts. Letting them echo with the thunder coursing through the skies, coursing through your veins. “I’m not asking you to love me! I’m not asking for any of that shit! I just want a rejection!” 

What? What the hell are you saying? Why are you asking him to do that? Why are you asking him to do the one thing he can’t do?

He loves you. He loves you so much it keeps him up at night. That it infests his days like a parasite. You’re not asking him to love you? Are you crazy? Do you not see how he looks at you? Do you not see that you’re the person that’s hung all the stars in the night sky?

He can’t reject you. He can’t. His brain won’t let him form the words– his lips never to curl in the right shape to let them out. He can’t reject you because he doesn’t want to– because it would practically kill him to. 

He loves you. You’re his mate.

Why couldn’t you just make this easy? Why couldn’t you reject him? Why did you have to look so broken this morning? Why did you like him back? What does it mean? What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to keep fighting when he knows he could have you for himself, for real? 

How is he supposed to protect you from him when it feels like he’s ripping a part of himself out when he tries to? He doesn’t want to hurt you. He never wanted to hurt you. He just wants to keep you safe. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you understand that? Why can’t he just have you?

‘No one can keep me from you. You’re for me.’

Your words from last night ring in his ears. Existing as the only thing he can hear, the only thing that matters. Maybe it is. Maybe he’s wrong, maybe– 

A sharp beeping suddenly penetrates his ears, a sound resonating from your laptop. A map laid out of the tornado's path.

It's formed– its body barrelling straight for you. 

Yoongi looks scared, nervous. His tail uncurling from behind him. Reaching out the window, reaching out to you. “(Y/n)! Get in the car!” 

“Shut up!” You’re not listening to him, not listening to a word he says, “I’m not even worth a rejection?! Our friendship means nothing, huh?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” His breathing is accelerating, his heart rate going crazy. He needs to get to you. He needs to protect you. To get in the car and drive as fast and as far as he can so nothing bad happens. “Get in the car!”

“Why does it even matter if I do or not?!” You yell over the sounds of rushed winds, ignoring debris that begin to fly past. Ignoring everything but the man in front of you, just like you’ve done time and time again. “If I get in, you’re just going to pretend nothing happened! You’re going to– you’re going to–” 

Tears begin to clog your vision, your words welling up in your throat. Scratching the inside, making you feel like you can’t breathe. Can’t think. Where you want to be strong, you are weak. And where you want to be weak, you feel strong. It’s a strange sort of feeling. 

“I can’t just fucking pretend like nothing happened last night, Yoongi!” A sense of peace washes over you, a complete contrast to the storm surrounding, enveloping the world. Acting as a monster, not caring about your feelings, swallowing everything whole. You finally feel at peace, oddly enough.

“I can’t– I can’t just act like everything’s fine! I’ve always been so fucking shit at that, you know that!” You throw your arms up in defeat, standing right in the path of the storm. Almost ready to watch the tornado come into view, to become the storm yourself. “But it feels like– it feels like you’re killing a part of me! Like you’re, you’re pulling out a piece of my very being and I don’t know why! It doesn’t feel real! And I don’t know if I can live without it!” 

What? It feels like– it feels like that for you? 

Yoongi steps out of the car, his tail curling almost too pleased at his human side’s actions. If it was anyone else, they would think you’re crazy. They would think you’re just being manipulative without a care in the world– but to Yoongi, to hybrids, he knows exactly what you're talking about. He knows the exact same thing. Has felt it every day of his life since he decided he couldn’t have you. 

The mate bond. The soulmate tie that will always lead two halves of a conjoined soul together over and over again. 

You feel it. Humans aren’t meant to feel it but you do. You feel the same pull, the same bone crushing heartbreak upon rejection from your mate. The same– the same everything Yoongi feels. 

He’s the one that's been hurting you like this, the one hurting himself by acting the same. In his bid for protection, he did the opposite. What kind of fucking mate is he? Why didn’t he just listen to the bond? Why didn’t he just let himself follow his heart?

Everything he’s dealt with in his past no longer carries any point. The comments under his stupid post to that stupid forum mean nothing. The words of his “family” are jack shit. The societal implications of him being less than human mean even less– you never saw him as less. His mate cares. His mate sees him.

This is what having a mate feels like? Yoongi thought he would never know. Never understand. But the warmth that feels him now, the subtle yearning he’s suppressed rises to the surface. His feet carrying him automatically, urging him to find you. To take care of you. To keep his mate safe. 

“We have to go!” He rushes, his legs moving quickly to try and meet your form. To try and find you. 

“No! No!” You shout, your foot stomping into the Earth. In any other scenario, he’d be shaking his head. Laugh at your antics. But right now, all he cares about is getting you to safety, and working on both of your communication skills. “I need you to tell me I’m a mistake! I need you to say I meant nothing!”

There you stand, arms open. Wind rushing past you, eyes closed yet looking straight ahead. You could never mean nothing, you mean everything. It’s his own stupid fault he ever let you think otherwise. 

“I just said what I needed to say!” He shouts, his body finally meeting yours in the open field. His hands land on your shoulders, trying to ground you. Hair  blowing around him, sticks flying past but never hitting the two of you. Almost like this needed to happen, like fate was set in stone for this very moment. 

Your eyes slowly open, and Yoongi thinks the world freezes around him. Misty watersheds sit in your tearline, your eyebrows forming together in confusion with his words. Your lungs raising and falling quickly, chest panting with effort held back. Emotions yet to be unraveled. 

If you feel the bond now, how long have you felt it? How confused you must’ve been. Yoongi feels awful. 

“Wh-what?” Your voice cracks, cheeks warm and irises searching for an answer. What is he doing? Why is he saying this now? Why does some part of you feel whole again? 

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t quite know how to articulate his words. But his body does. His body does what it’s been begging to do since he met you in that library. That he’s been holding back from every day of his stupid, (Y/n)-lacking life. 

He leans in, his lips pressing against yours roughly. Trying to tell you all the words he never said, trying to put everything, all of him into one measly kiss. One that means something. One that tells the story of the two of you. 

You, you can’t do anything but listen. Your eyes closing, your body returned whole. The piece of you pulling away settling back into your heart like stone. Warmth flooding your veins, home filling your very being. Making you feel safe, making you feel cared for. 

And when he finally pulls away, you hear the words you’ve always longed to know, “I love you and I’m sorry.” 

Yoongi feels free upon their utterance. A ball chain holding him back breaking– reality setting the world into motion once again. The earth that needs to keep spinning, that needs to keep the two of you afloat. 

You should feel mad, but you can’t feel anything but peace. But feel like your soulmate has returned home from a voyage you would never understand.

Before anything else can be said, Yoongi snaps his head to the left. His eyes going wide as the winds begins to form in front of him. Looking as if they’re not moving. As if nothing is moving. “Fuck, fuck.” 

He grabs your hand, pulling you back to the car as it starts to take focus in front of your mind, too. Fuzzy feeling fading, eyes going wide as you scramble from his door into your seat. He follows in quickly after you, not even thinking to buckle before taking off. Driving as if his life depends on it– your life depends on it, too. 

Sticks flying past the windshield, hitting against the body. Thunderous roars of the world being consumed outside. A tail pressing against your frame, holding you steady. Keeping you in place.

It’s only when you come to safety that all the words needing to be said finally spill out from both of your mouths. When everything is set ‘right’ again instead of feeling oh-so-wrong. It’s only then that he explains everything. That he explains his logic, that he explains how hybrids have soulmates. Don’t forget the scolding he gave– the promises made to each other that the other would never do something so stupid again.

He knows you meant them.

He’ll never forget the way you smiled at him then. When the heaviness left the air and the freedom surrounding the car became almost overbearing. He wishes he could tattoo the places you playfully slapped into his arm. Where you scolded him for keeping this from you. When you told him you would never have a second thought about rejecting him.

When you told him you could never think of a life where he isn’t your mate. 

“...Or boyfriend. Or partner. Whatever you wanna call it.”

You’ll never forget his gummy smile in that moment, when he has a possessive hand on your thigh. 

“I don’t care. I just want to be yours.” 

Wind wraps at your hair, blowing it– making it form into some beastly, monstrous thing around your head. Tangling your face, your eyes falling askew as it finds itself a messing around your very being. The howls of gusts form in his ears, sounding of ghosts that would haunt any normal person. 

But you, no. Not you. You live for this. Live for the rain that beats into your skin. Live for the cracks of thunder roaring above your head. Find serenity in the dark clouds that hang overhead, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In the knowledge that it's coming. That it’s coming soon. 

And Yoongi? He can’t help but think you look like an angel enthralled in the storm. One that came to earth. One that was meant to find him. One that was created just for him. 

He can’t help but bask in you– bask in his mate as you live in your freedom, your happiness. Gets to be one of the lucky few finding sanctuary in your world. In your bubble made just for you. 

He smiles to himself as he watches. Shakes his head like a stupid boy in stupid love that couldn’t be happier. He’s so happy. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, opening a familiar app that he once looked to for advice all those years ago. Going to the same post he read the replies to over and over again– convincing himself that his impossible couldn’t be reality. He shakes his head as he reads them now, almost feeling foolish for believing him in the first place. Why should he have asked on a human forum anyway? It’s like he was asking to be let down. 

As he scrolls, his thumb comes to a stop above a comment he’s never seen before— a recent one. Posted just a few months ago. 

RMB_Joon

> Hey! This post is being talked about a lot on another forum specifically for hybrids! :-) I left the link for you as I think it would be a lot more helpful getting perspectives over there! :-) PM me if you ever want to talk.

Yoongi feels a curl of interest grow in his gut. Other hybrids? Interest in his post? He almost wants to know more. Almost wants to follow the inkling leading him to delve deeper into the world of others. 

“Yoongi!!” You shout, waving his attention over to where you stand. And suddenly, he doesn’t care about anything else anymore. How could he when he has the whole world in front of him? 

He chuckles to himself, marking his post as ‘resolved’ before tucking the device into his pocket. His legs catching into a jog, joining you at your side. Exactly where he should be. Where he’s meant to be.

⋆𐙚 WAHH THERE IT IS!!! I hope you all enjoyed <\\33 pls let me know any of your thoughts!! this is officially the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I put a lot of myself into this piece so I hope u all love it and it isn’t too skdhsksks yk?? MWAH ily © all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate. 

[koishiro]

Hi koishiroo, could you please create more nanami and tsukishima pov? thank youu !!

Dating Kento Nanami pt.3 <3

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ : I will never get enough of posting Nanami mb’s >•<

Find Tsukishima here!

[just-nc-tea]

iced americano season ˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗

⭑.ᐟ Strangers to lovers - Park Jongseong part 2 of 'the hockey diaries' series ˗ˏˋseries masterlistˎˊ˗

A simple iced americano is about to ruin Jay’s entire season. Falling for the cute barista at his favorite café means free coffee, but it also comes with unexpected complications. Between her overprotective best friend stirring up drama and the internet’s relentless spotlight on his personal life, Jay quickly learns that some risks are worth taking—even if it means skating into uncharted territory. He regrets nothing.

ᝰ pairing. hockey player jay x radio host, influencer & barista Y/N (she s a busy girl).ᐟ₊ ⊹   ᝰ genre. College sports aus, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, suggestive.ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, a LOT of partying (somehow they always meet at parties, dunno what happened there), some intense making out and loosing tshirts, toxic friendships, toxic fanbases, lots of drinking, profanity, suggestive language .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 39.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ (I am so sorry)

⟡ ┆ Instagram stories ⁀➴༯ Y/Ns version, Jays version , additional pics coming soon

ᝰ an.Thank you so much for the love on pt. 1 of thise series. I hope you enyjoy this part just as much! I am so sorry to Han for making him an asshole in here :((( I did love writing for Jay and this was about 60k, just them being cute but maybe ill do a lil "spin off" if I find the time .ᐟ₊ ⊹  

ᝰ taglist. @firstclassjaylee @50-husbands @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona @jaylvrsworld @xylatox

Jay pushed the glass door of the small campus cafe open. The familiar jingle of the bell above the door almost drowning in the chatter of the many students crammed into the small cafe. As he moved through the bustling cafe, the worn wooden floors creaked beneath his boots. 

He spotted you behind the counter before you noticed him. You were bustling around, balancing a tray of mugs with one hand while sliding a plate of pastries across the counter with the other. Your hair was pinned back, loose strands framing your face, and you were wearing the café’s signature deep red apron over a flowy dress. 

“Hey, Jay,” you called out, catching sight of him. His heart had no business to react the way it did. A greeting and a smile was not enough to get a 1,8 meter, fit hockey player's heart rate to spike. Your grin widened as you set the tray down and made your way to the counter. “Back so soon? Let me guess, iced Americano, two shots of espresso?”

Jay leaned against the counter, smiling back at you. “You know me too well.”

“It’s almost like you’re here every other day or something,” you teased, pulling a cup from the stack. Jay chuckled, watching as you moved behind the counter. Your hands worked with practiced ease, and the warm glow from the afternoon sun streaming through the windows seemed to make you glow. He caught himself staring and quickly glanced down at the counter, pretending to examine the worn wood beneath his fingers. Great. Counters. Counters are interesting. Is this oak? Walnut?

“So… how is your back? You guys got roughed up pretty bad last night.”, you asked while working on his coffee.

His head shot up in surprise. “You watched the game?”

“Not live,” you admitted, turning back around to set the cups on the counter. “But it was all over my feed. You holding up okay?”

Jay blinked, a little stunned that you’d not only heard about the game but had actually paid attention to it. His lips tugged into a small, boyish grin as warmth spread in his chest.  “Barely. The other team decided my ribs were a fair target.”

You winced sympathetically. “Yikes. And you still made it all the way here?”

“What can I say? The coffee’s worth it.” His tone was light as he shrugged and winced after.

“Well, if the coffee doesn’t help, you can always take a nap on the green sofa,” you teased, nodding toward the corner. “It’s my preferred one.”

“Tempting,” Jay said, straightening up. “But I think I’ll save my naps for after I pretended to be a academic weapon in the library.“

“What are you studying today?”, you slid his drink across the counter, leaning in slightly as you rested your elbows on the worn wood. Maybe he should get his heart checked out. 

“International finance.”, he groaned and fished for his wallet in his pocket.

“Oh. Doesn’t sound like fun.”, you grabbed a crookie from the display case and placed it in a small bag, sliding it toward him, after he finished paying. “Consider it my contribution to your recovery.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly, his tone warmer now as he reached for the bag.

“Anytime, Jay,” you said softly, your smile lingering as he picked up his coffee and crookie.

You hadn’t intended to stay long at the swim team’s party. Really, you hadn’t. But somewhere between the shots Lia handed you and Felix’s insistence that you “let loose for once,” the night had gotten away from you.

You were halfway through your third Sex on the Beach of the evening, the warm buzz of alcohol already humming heavily in your veins, as you pushed your way through the crowd. Han, Jeongin, and Ryujin trailing behind you as you tried to escape the crush of bodies and rejoin the rest of your friends playing beer pong in the garden.

You were laughing at something Jeongin said, only half-listening, when someone bumped into you. Your drink swayed, spilling a few drops over the rim, and you barely caught yourself from spilling it completely. 

“Hey, watch it!” you said, turning around, ready to throw a playful glare at whoever had just so rudely bumped into you.

“Oh shit. I am sorry.” The culprit turned around, grinning sheepishly. Before you could respond, you heard Jeongin’s voice from behind you.

“Heeseung? Is that you?”

You turned to see him grinning Heeseung, his face lighting up.

"Jeongin!" Heeseung said. "Man, long time no see!” Heeseung clapped Jeongin on the shoulder, pulling him into a quick manly half-hug.

“We were about to step outside for a second. Care to join?”

“Sure. My friends are outside as well. Or well, they were the last time I saw them?”, Heeseung nodded and followed your little group as you fought your way to the garden of the frat house, escaping Kesha and her choir of drunk students. 

The cold night air hit your cheeks as you stepped outside, the noise of the party muffled slightly by the walls of the house. The garden was lit by fairy lights and a few fake torches that flickered against the dark of the night. You were following close behind Jeongin, holding his shoulder and your drink in an iron grip, determined not to trip or spill any of your precious Sex on the Beach. Han was walking right beside you, his hand laying on the small of your back.

You arrived at the table near the end of the garden fence that separated the house from the small woods that surrounded the whole campus. Chan and Minho were playing an intense beer pong match against Jake and Jay.

“I’m freezing,” you whined, pulling your arms tighter around yourself and leaning a little more into Han. Whoever thought it was a good idea to place the beer pong table outside should definitely never get to voice their thoughts out loud ever again. Not only was it cold and icy out here but the woods were scary as fuck. 

He chuckled, adjusting his position so you were tucked closer against his side and wrapped his padded jacket over the two of you.

“Should’ve brought a jacket,” he teased, his breath warm against the top of your head.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t defend yourself. Your dress wasn’t helping your case either. You knew you would be spending most of your time outside watching your friends play beer pong so you did bring a jacket, but it was stored safely somewhere inside. You thought you could rely on the copious amounts of alcohol to keep you warm. Apparently you were just as bad in thinking as the dude that put the tables here. 

“Oh, is the little baby cold?” Minho cooed, his tone exaggerated.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Go back to losing beer pong.”

He gasped dramatically. “Excuse you, Y/N. I’ll have you know—”

His protest was cut off by loud cheers from the other team. The two players were both jumping around the table, celebrating a successful shot, while their friends were all high-fiving in excitement. 

Them celebrating gave you an opportunity to, hopefully not too obviously, check out one particular player. Jay was standing just behind the table, laughing along with his friend. He was wearing a black button-up shirt and a padded leather jacket. The shirt was unbuttoned at the top. His hair had that messy, tousled look that somehow worked way better than if he’d tried to make it perfect. He looked hot. And totally out of your league.

You caught his eyes for a split second, and your heart skipped a beat. Great. Now he knows you were staring. This is fine. Totally fine. Maybe if you don’t blink for the next ten seconds, you’ll look like you’re in deep drunk thought instead of checking him out like a creep. But his lips curved into a smile, and he waved at you. Your arm was still wrapped around Han’s side, but you moved it enough to greet Jay properly.

Han’s body stiffened slightly, and his gaze followed the direction of your wave, his brows furrowing when he noticed where your attention was. He cleared his throat, then asked, his voice low, “Who are you waving at?”.

You glanced up at him, a little confused by the sharpness in his tone. “Jay,” you answered nonchalantly. Han knew all about your little crush on Jay, he had to listen to your rambling every time you saw him in the cafe. Which was quite often.

You felt Han’s hand shift slightly on your back. He reached up and he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze flicked back to Jay, still laughing with his friends.“Just- be careful, Y/N. Hockey players”, he paused for a second, contemplating his words, “they’re not exactly known for being the settle-down type.”

You rolled your eyes: “Han you know just as well as me that I would never make a move. He is so out of my league, I try to not get disappointed by men more than I already am.”, you said with a dismissive shrug.

Han’s fingers tightened for a second on your shoulder. “Just... be careful. I’m just looking out for you, okay?”

You smiled up at him. “I know, I know. I appreciate it. You are worse than Yudai sometimes,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

Han’s expression softened slightly at your words. He looked back at Jay, then back to you. Just as he opened his mouth to say something else, your phone buzzed in your purse.

You fumbled for it, managing to pull it out and glance at the screen. “It’s Chaeryoung,” you muttered, swiping your thumb across the screen to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Chaeryoung’s voice came through, strained and frantic. “You need to come inside. Lia is throwing up in the bathroom. She locked the door and doesn’t want to let any of us inside!”

You blinked, suddenly alert and sober. Or well as sober as you could be. “Shit, in which bathroom are you?”

“The upstairs one!”

You turned to Han, your face apologetic. “I’ve gotta go help Chae. Lia is throwing up and locked the door,” you said.

Han looked at you with concern, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you need help?”

Before you could answer, Seungmin, Lia’s boyfriend, jumped in, his voice easy and reassuring. “I’ll go with her,” he said quickly, offering you a small smile. “We’ll get her sorted out.”

You gave Seungmin a quick nod. “Thanks, Seungmin. I appreciate it.” 

You almost stumbled but caught yourself, your fingers gripping the edge of Han’s sleeve to steady yourself when you broke away from him and the warmth of his jacket. His fingers instantly curled around your wrist. His grip and his brow furrowed even deeper as he watched you, his eyes flicking between you and the door.

His voice was quieter now, almost tender, and his fingers brushed against the small of your back as if he was ready to catch you at any moment. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? You've had a lot to drink…”

“I’m a big girl, Han.” You nodded, though it felt like the nod itself might make you lose your balance. “And Seungmin is helping. He’s basically sober.”

Han’s expression shifted from concern to reluctant acceptance. He didn’t move to stop you, but his eyes lingered on you, his worry still evident. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Just... be careful, okay?”

You gave him a reassuring smile and glanced at Seungmin, who gave you an encouraging nod.

You were squeezing your way through the kitchen after you successfully got Chaeryoung to open up the door. Your friends decided to end the night like that and went home, leaving you alone to get yourself another drink before returning to the beer pong tables. The counters were lined with drinks, people laughing loudly, leaning against walls and talking over one another. 

Just as you were about to sidestep a group of people near the fridge, someone bumped into you from behind. The sudden force sent you stumbling forward, your arms flailing slightly as you reached out instinctively to steady yourself.

"Whoa!" a voice called out just as strong hands gripped your arms, keeping you from falling. You froze for a moment, heat rising to your cheeks. “Easy there.”, the voice added, smooth and amused. Jay. Oh god.

“Oh my god i am so sorry.”, you blurted, trying to cover up the rush of heat in your chest. You laughed awkwardly, hoping it didn’t come out too flustered.

Jay’s smile spread, eyes sparkling with amusement as his grip remained light but firm. “No problem at all,” he said. “Funny running into you here. I thought I’d have to wait until Thursday to see you again.”

You let out a small laugh, steadying yourself on the edge of the counter. “Actually you could have seen me on Monday as well. Jaemin and I switched our shifts next week.”

Jay laughed and then turned his attention back to the drink he was mixing before you almost face planted into him. “What a bummer. If I’d known that, I could’ve enjoyed one of your ice americanos instead of the cafeteria ones.”

“Maybe next time,” you teased, leaning against the counter as you watched him work. You were here to get yourself another drink, but the thought of fighting your way through the crowd of people to find a new bottle of vodka felt more exhausting than it was worth.  

He finished mixing his drink and set it down in front of you. "I was gonna make something for myself, but I figured you'd appreciate something a little better than the usual party fare, dear barista." he said, smiling.

You raised an eyebrow, taking the glass from him.

“Are you offering me a drink just so I’ll stick around?” you asked, taking a sip of whatever he just mixed. The drink was good, strong but it tasted well.

Jay’s smirk deepened. "Well, you could put it like that. But I figured you'd appreciate a drink that's a little less basic," he said, leaning against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours.

You leaned back slightly, studying him for a moment. Close up he looked even hotter. You could see the Prada chain that was dangling around his neck, reflecting the colorful lights of the led lamps in the kitchen. His black hair fell slightly over his forehead, and you had to fight the urge to reach out and brush it back.

“I sure like less basic.” you said, your voice a little softer than before.

Jay turned back to the counter, grabbing another plastic cup. “So, how long have you and - what’s his name? Han? been together?” 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Han? Oh, no, no, no. He’s not my boyfriend,” you said, shaking your head, a chuckle escaping your lips. “He’s like… a brother to me. We’ve known each other since high school. I moved to Korea with my family, and we just clicked from there. Just really close friends.”

Jay looked at you again and raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Really?” He tilted his head, studying. “I could’ve sworn you two were a thing. The way you were standing together looked very couple like earlier.”

You laughed slightly. "Yeah, we’re close, but definitely not like that. I was too lazy to get my jacket and I was freezing. I basically just used him as a portable human heater,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips.

Jay’s grin widened and he set down the bottle he just reached for. “So,” he said, his voice smooth and a little slower than usual, “if you’re not with him, that leaves me wondering, if someone wanted to get to know you better, what should be his first move?” 

You tilted your head, amused by the sudden turn in the conversation. 

“Well, that’s a loaded question,” you said, teasing him. “I don’t know, I guess you’d have to find out.”

Holy shit. This can’t be true. What the hell. Is he flirting? 

Jay’s smile deepened, and he took a small step forward, leaning in just a little closer. His voice dropped, low and confident. “I think I could handle that.”

You laughed softly, the heat in your chest spreading as you glanced away for a moment, suddenly very aware of how close Jay was. You could smell his perfume. It smelled nice. He smelled nice. You swore your brain was running on autopilot.

“We’ll see about that,” you said, as you locked eyes with him. 

Jay chuckled and tilted his head to the side and licked his lips. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Don’t try to seduce me just because you want free pastries. You got that because I felt bad for you.”, you teased, taking another sip of your drink not breaking eye contact. 

Jay’s smirk widened, he leaned even closer, resting one arm casually on the counter, cornering you from one side. “You caught me,” he said playfully. “Free crookie is all I’m after. You’ve exposed my master plan.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Damn. You didn’t even try to deny it. At least you’re honest.”

“Always,” he replied, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Especially if I am talking to a girl as pretty as you.”

“Smooth,” you said, smirking, trying to ignore how your heart did a little flip. Why was he flirting with you? What was happening? Mayday mayday! “Is that how you charm all the girls?”

Jay chuckled, running a hand through his jet black hair. It looked so soft. “Nope. Usually, I just smile and hope for the best.” He made a small pause.

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you think charms me? Your smile? I don’t even have to do anything to do that.” Except handing him his daily dose of caffeine. 

“Well definitely more than just a charming smile. Maybe a good drink and a nice conversation?” Jay grinned, leaning back just slightly, but his eyes never left yours. 

You laughed again, shaking your head but not bothering to hide your smile this time. “Until now that seems to have worked pretty well, hasn’t it?”

He placed a hand over his chest in mock relief. “Thank god. I was worried I’d have to pull out my backup plan.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics. “Oh yeah? And what’s the backup plan?”

Jay leaned in again, his voice dropping low. “Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

Your eyes locked, and for a split second, but before either of you could say anything more Han’s voice cut through the tension. “Y/N.”

You turned around quickly, blinking a little at the sight of him standing behind you. A frown was pulling at his lips as his eyes flicked between you and Jay. 

"Han, hey," you said, trying to sound casual and collected, not breathless and freaked out. 

Jay smiled at Han but didn’t say anything. He took a step back. Han opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Minho appeared at his side. 

"Y/N!" he called out, his tone cheerful. "What are you still doing here? I thought you wanted to be gone for just a few seconds. Come on, we’re going back outside, I wanna rematch Jake." 

"I was just about to head out.", you glanced at Jay, his eyes still following you, and then turned to face Han and Minho, who were both waiting expectantly. You offered Jay a smile. “Guess I’ll see you around, Jay,” you said, your voice light, as you drowned your drink and set the cup down on the counter next to you. Jay raised an eyebrow, his smile never fading. “Looking forward to it,” he replied. 

The small fried chicken shop near the ice rink was filled to the brim with people. Every seat was taken by a hockey player or one of their friends. The DA ice hockey team had just won the second game of the year after their winter break and everyone was celebrating. 

Jay sat at the end of the table, idly pushing his rice around with his chopsticks, half-tuned into the conversation between Heeseung and Yeonjun. He was scrolling through his instagram feed and got stuck under one of your posts. It was a small clip from your newest video.  “My husband and I cook dessert for the kids (you).”

He scrolled down to the comments, not wanting to see Han making heart eyes at you. He saw that happen in real life often enough, no need to see it here as well.  

‘Y/N and Han are literally couple goals. Like, just admit you’re dating already.’

‘The way Han looks at her… I’m crying. Why are they so cute?’

‘If they ever break up my heart will be broken’

Jay clenched his jaw. The commenters clearly loved the idea of you and Han as a pair, and from the outside, he could see why. He leaned back against his seat, running a hand over his face. He needed to get a grip. 

“-ay? Jay?”, Heeseung’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Are you still with us dude?”

Jay blinked, not even pretending to follow. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he mumbled, earning a snort from Yeonjun.

Heeseung narrowed his eyes playfully. “What’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing.”, Jay closed his phone and put it onto the table, screen facing the wood.

“You sure it’s nothing? You just looked like you wanted to punch someone.”, Yeonjun said, biting into a chicken. Jay sighed but figured there was no harm in being honest. Heeseung would probably get it out of him eventually. “Y/N uploaded a video. With Han.” 

“Aww. Poor Jay is sulking  because his crush is hanging out with Han?”, Heeseung mocked, feigning pity. Yeonjun snorted, nearly choking on his food.

“I’m not sulking,” Jay shot back, though the defensiveness in his tone only made Heeseung and Yeonjun exchange knowing smirks.

“Okay, fine,” Yeonjun said, holding up his hands. “You’re not sulking. But, come on, be real for a second. Do you actually think Han has a chance with her?”

Jay hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “Everyone seems to think they’re perfect together.”

Heeseung barked out a laugh. “Everyone except the two people actually involved. Dude, Han’s so deep in the friend zone it’s practically a different zip code.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun added, shaking his head. “The guy looks like he’s one declaration of love away from writing poetry in the rain. It’s tragic, really.”

Jay’s brow furrowed. “She told me she’s not interested in him like that. She said they’re just friends. Like siblings.”

“And you believe her?” Heeseung asked, arching a brow.

Jay nodded firmly. “Yeah, I do. She was clear about it. She’s never given me a reason to think otherwise.” Well it wasn’t as if the two of you talked about that topic particularly often. But he was certain that you have never mentioned a boyfriend.

“Then what’s stopping you?” Yeonjun asked, leaning forward. “You’re not in the friend zone. Hell, the way you were cozying up in the kitchen last week made it look like you are closer to her than Han ever was.”

Jay shrugged, his gaze dropping to the table. “It’s not that simple.”

Heeseung snorted. “It’s exactly that simple. Han’s not even in the competition, dude. You’re just psyching yourself out.”

Yeonjun grinned. “Let’s be honest, Jay. You’d be doing Han a favor. At least he’d finally get the hint and move on.”

Jay couldn’t help but chuckle at that, even as he shook his head. “You guys are impossible.”

“Maybe,” Heeseung said, raising his glass. “But we’re also right. Sooner or later, you’re gonna have to make a move. Before someone else does.”

Jay glanced at his phone again. Heeseung and Yeonjun might have been teasing, but deep down, Jay knew they weren’t entirely wrong.

“Yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “I know.”

“I hate the tomato sauce they serve in the food hall.”, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose in disgust after taking a bite of the cafeterias version of spaghetti bolognese. 

“Why would you get it then?”, Changbin asked before stuffing his mouth with some high protein chicken dish he brought from home. It smelled better than it looked, but it still looked unappealing. Close to whatever you were eating. Which was…a chickpea soup? You were not entirely sure, but it did taste decent. Han looked at his spaghetti with almost as much disgust as Yeonjun did. 

“Do I look like I wanna eat chickpea soup? It looks like vomit and I don't want to eat warm chickpea flavoured vomit.”, Yeonjun deadpanned and you snorted. He was right about that, but salty tomato sauce and over cooked noodles were not really a better option. 

“Babe. I am trying to enjoy my food.”, Chaeryoung hit his bicep and he yelped in mock pain. 

“Hey.”, came a greeting from somewhere behind you. 

You turned around to see Jay, Sunghoon and Jake standing behind you. Jay was smiling down at you. Was he always this tall? It was like you were sitting in the shadow of a very well-dressed tree. Except this tree smelled like fresh laundry and confidence. Stupid tree.

“Could we join you? The other tables are full.”, he tilted his head into the direction of the food hall. Almost every seat was taken.

Before you could even think of a proper answer Yeonjun, already gave them the okay and Jay slid into the seat next to you. He set down his tray and moved to take off his jacket. His knee touched yours and you flinched for a second but didn’t move it. 

“So, what did CC want from you?” Yeonjun asked between bites of his spaghetti, looking up at Jay with a raised brow. Jay shrugged, picking at his food as he leaned back in his chair. “Nothing important. He told Heeseung and me to keep an eye on you since Providence is a hard team to win against. And we, as captain and co-captain, are in charge of keeping you in check.” he said shrugging.

“Oh, that’s right,” Changbin chimed in, “Last year you lost against them, right? Wasn’Tt it againt them that Soobin almost broke his hand and CC freaked out?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah he was pushed behind the net and Lermann tends to play dirty and checked him from behind without apparent reason.”

You nodded, trying to act normal, but all you could think about was how Jay’s knee kept bumping against yours, the subtle touch sending a warmth flooding through your body. You kept your face calm and collected. Or well you tried to. Considering Chaes pointed facial expression you weren’t doing a particularly good job at it. 

"Yeah. Jesus that was shit. We lost a good player and then they started playing dirty and provoked everyone else and got power plays.", Jay said, shifting in his seat and leaning slightly closer to you without even realizing it. "But we’ve got this this time. We just need to keep focused. And ignore Jensens comments."

“I’m sure you’ll do great," you said, trying to sound encouraging, “It’s as much a mental as a physical thing. So if you go into the game with good vibes I am sure you’ll ehm powerplay them this time?” 

You had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. CC was Coach Choi, that was something you have learned, but aside from that you didn’t really keep up with anything that related to the hockey team. Well the real life one, you were keeping up with your fictional hockey boys? 

The real life hockey players that were sitting around you snorted. 

"Man, look at that. You always say that as well, don’t you?" Jake teased, nudging Jay with his elbow. "Maybe you should get her to coach the team. She would certainly be better in bringing the mood up than CC."

You winked at him, playing along. "Well, if you ever need a motivational coach for a game, you know where to find me.”

Your friends started digging back into their food, now talking about different topics. You were sitting in the middle, listening to Han Changbin and Chae with one and the rest with the other ear. 

“You know,” Jay said suddenly, bumping his knee back into yours to get your attentio , “if you’d want to, I would love to see you at a game. Maybe we just need some new fans and motivational coaches in the stands to win.”

You smiled at him, tilting your head. “Mhm I am not sure how much help I would actually be. I would just hog someones ticket who would actually want to see you play.”

“Oh don’t you worry. Pretty girls are allowed to do that.”, he leaned back down to take a bit of his spaghetti. 

Did he just call you a ‘pretty girl’? Like, in a casual, offhanded way? Like it was no big deal? Cool. That’s cool. 

Jay cringing slightly before taking another bite. "Maybe I'll just stick with something safer next time."

You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Yeah, probably a good idea.  Mine is actually not that bad." you teased, nudging him gently with your elbow.

Jay grinned at the playful exchange, leaning in slightly to whisper, “I’d rather get sick than eat that… chickpea disaster,” he added with a sly smile, gesturing to your soup. 

“So,” Yeonjun said with a sly grin, slinging an arm around your shoulders when you walked out of the cafeteria. "You and Jay, huh?"

You hummed, looking up from your phone. “What about me and Jay?”

He shrugged.”You looked real cozy in there. I didn’t know you were this close.”

You narrowed your eyes at Chaeryoung, who was walking in front of you. “What did Chae tell you?”

“Oh.”, Yeonjun said, his grin widening. “Just that you have a itsy bitsy tiny crush on my co-captain.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his teasing with a laugh. "I don’t have a crush on anyone. Jay and I are just friends."

“Uh-huh. Sure, just friends.”, Yeonjun nodded in a mock serious way.

You could feel your cheeks heat up, but you refused to admit anything outright. "Are ridiculous." Chaeryoung turned around, walking backward so she could face you. “You know, Y/N, Yeonjun’s right. You were totally giving Jay heart eyes back there.” “Chae,” you groaned, your face growing hotter. “I wasn’t giving him heart eyes.” “Oh, please,” she continued, her teasing relentless. “If he leaned in just a little closer, you probably would’ve kissed him.” 

If given the chance you would rather not kiss Jay in front of the whole food hall. Maybe you would kiss him if the two of you were alone and you were a bit drunk for some drunken confidence. 

Yeonjun snorted. “Imagine the chaos that would cause. Half the school would either faint or riot.”

“You’re both delusional.” You said, exasperation slipping into your tone, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Jay’s just...Jay. We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Friends,” Yeonjun repeated, drawing out the word like it was some hilarious inside joke.

Han, who had been quietly walking next to you, started speaking. His tone was sharp, almost biting. “Maybe you shouldn’t get so cozy with him. You don’t want people to think you’re throwing yourself at him. You seemed a bit desperate in there Y/N.”

What. You turned to look at Han. Well you gawked at him. Month open, eyebrows furrowed.

The air around you seemed to shift instantly. Chaeryoung’s grin faltered, and Yeonjun stiffened, his arm falling from your shoulders. 

“What the hell, Han?” Chaeryoung said, her voice low but clearly annoyed.

Han shrugged, avoiding your eyes. “Just saying. It doesn’t look great. Just cause he has a rich daddy and plays hockey fairly well, Y/N doesn’t have to behave like a puck bunny.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Did your best friend of 8 years, who knows of your crush, really just insinuate that you were using Jay for money? And sex? You have been gushing about Jay for the last few months, ever since he came into the cafe to study but the two of you ended up talking all the way through your shift.

No one said anything after that, you all just kind of stared at him. After a moment, Changbin cleared his throat. “Anyway, we should probably get to class.”

Yeonjun gave Han a look, one you couldn’t quite decipher, but said nothing as he started walking again.

Jay’s shoulders ached from the back-to-back practices, and every muscle in his body protested as he stepped into the café. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries washed over him, but it barely registered. His eyes swept across the room, searching for you.

You looked… rough. Your hair was pulled back in a loose, slightly messy ponytail, and even the faint makeup you wore couldn’t fully hide the tired puffiness around your eyes. There was a flush to your cheeks, not the usual vibrant glow he was used to seeing, but a sign of exhaustion. You moved quickly, your steps a little hurried. 

Jay joined the line, which felt like it stretched for miles. He wasn’t in a hurry, though. This gave him more time to watch you. 

You didn’t notice him at first, too busy juggling orders and working the machines with practiced ease. His attention was glued to you, tracing the way your hands moved as you filled cups and slid them across the counter. When you finally did glance up, just for a split second, your eyes locked with his. Recognition flickered in your expression before you quickly turned back to the task at hand, your head tilting slightly as if to refocus.

The line shuffled forward slowly, giving him plenty of time to watch. You were darting back and forth, exchanging quick words with Renjun while also shooting occasional glances toward the clock. You didn’t look up fully again, but Jay swore he caught you sneaking a peek in his direction once or twice.

When he finally reached the counter, Renjun greeted him with a rather stressed. "What can I get you?"

"Americano, no room," Jay said without missing a beat, though his gaze flicked past Renjun, drawn to you again. You were at the other end of the counter, busying yourself with the espresso machine. But as if sensing his gaze, you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his for the briefest moment before you focused back on your work.

Renjun passed his order down to you, and Jay took a step to the side, pretending to look at the pastries on display. 

You turned back to the coffee machine, your movements fast despite the clear tiredness in your posture. He watched as you prepared his drink, the lines of concentration hardening your usual expressions. He noticed the way your fingers trembled slightly as you snapped the lid onto the cup.

"Here you go," you said, your voice soft and polite.

Jay grabbed the cup, his fingers brushing against the cardboard sleeve. He was about to say something but the words died on his lips when he noticed something written on the cup.

Text me :) 

2997-2977-127

Jay blinked, his grip on the cup tightening slightly as his brain processed what he was seeing. His heart thudded, the soreness in his muscles fading into the background. 

His eyes darted back up to you. You gave him a small smile before quickly turning back to help another customer.

Jay stared at his phone. He texted you almost four hours ago and you haven’t texted back. Everytime he opened his phone and saw that there was no notification from you he felt almost disappointed. He couldn’t remember being excited for a text message as much as he was for your answer. 

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as if that could somehow release the tension building in his chest. 

The empty cup sat on the table beside him, the cardboard sleeve still marked with your scrawled handwriting. Jay sighed and flopped back against his couch, the phone resting on his chest.

“She’s probably busy,” he muttered to himself. That made sense. People had lives. You had a job. YOu were literally working at that job just a few hours ago and he knows your shift ended only like half an hour ago. It wasn’t like he expected you to drop everything just because he’d texted. But he kinda wanted you to. 

His phone buzzed.

Jay shot upright so fast it startled him. His heart stuttered as he grabbed his phone fumbling with his thumb to unlock it.

Unknown Number Hey, sorry for the delay Work got busy I didn’t mean to leave you hanging :) How’s your day going?

The corner of his mouth lifted before he even realized it. He stared at the message for a moment, trying to figure out what to say back without sounding too eager. 

Jay No worries :) My day had been pretty good, actually. How’s yours?

He hit send before he could second-guess it. The bubble popped up almost immediately, signaling that you were typing, and Jay smiled. This time, he didn’t even bother hiding it. He felt like a little school girl and if Jake was to come into his room right now he would probably never get the end of this.

Y/N Honestly, I’m exhausted. I might have drunk a bit too much yesterday? I missed you at the Greenwill-dorm-party :( I thought we could have catched up there! 

Jay blinked at the screen, your words pulling a groan out of him. 

Jay Missed me? I feel honored I was stuck at training all day yesterday, though Coach had us running drills for hours  I think he’s trying to kill me

Jay frowned at the memory, his muscles still aching from the endless sprints and repetitions. He hadn’t been out with friends last night. Nope, he’d been sprawled on the locker room floor cursing his coach under his breath and had missed out on seeing you. Again.

Y/N Ohhh you poor thing Jay I’ll make you go through just one round of drills and you will beg me to stop Y/N Oh? who said I want you to stop doing anything?

Jay stared at your text, a slow heat creeping up his neck. Oh? Who said I want you to stop doing anything? His brain ran through a dozen possible replies, none of them appropriate enough to send. He rubbed a hand over his face, fighting the grin pulling at his lips.

You were doing this on purpose. You had to be.

Jay You really don’t know what you’re asking for, do you? Y/N  I am always open to experience new things? But tbh the only thing i want to experience right now are 8 healthy hours of sleep  I have class at 9:30 tomorrow and i still feel like dying Jay You looked tired today Did you take painkillers? Y/N  geez thanks very much yeah but they aren’t helping that much and my stomach is kinda upset so i dont want to take another one Jay have you eaten anything yet?

The response took a little longer this time, but it finally came.

Y/N …No. But I have a good reason. My cat is sleeping on me, and I can’t move.

Jay blinked, his laughter bubbling out before he could stop it. Somehow, the image of you completely immobilized by a cat was both the most unexpected and the most fitting thing he could think of.

Jay You’re blaming the cat? Y/N I’m not “blaming” her. I’m respecting the unspoken rules. I’m legally required to stay put. Jay And starving in the process? 

Your answer to this message took a while. 

YN send a picture Just look at my little baby. I can’t just disturb her! 

He sat up straighter, his thumb hovering as he opened it. The image filled the screen—a shot of you sprawled back on what looked like your bed, a sleepy black cat curled up snugly against your chest. 

He blinked, then rubbed a hand over his jaw, trying to chase away whatever his brain was spiraling into. A stupid grin still tugged at the corner of his lips.

Jay Alright, I can’t even make fun of you for that She looks too comfortable to move.

He hit send, still staring at the picture like it might offer him answers to his prayers. It didn’t.

Y/N See?? I told you. Cat law.

He snorted, shaking his head as he leaned back against the couch. He then had a stupid idea. 

Jay Well, lucky for you, I’m not about to let you starve. Y/N What do you mean? Jay I mean, tell me what you want to eat & your address, and I’ll bring it over.

The typing bubble appeared. Paused. Disappeared. Then came back again, like you were hesitating.

Y/N Wait, seriously?  Jay You think I’d joke about something as serious as food? Now tell me what you’re craving.

Another pause. 

Y/N  Surprise me?

Jay stood outside your door, balancing a paper bag of food in one hand and a drink carrier in the other. 

Play it cool, he thought, letting out a small breath. This wasn’t a big thing, right. He was just bringing a friend some food, after inviting himself to dinner? A friend he definitely had a crush on. That he never really gets to spend one on one time with. And now he will be inside your apartment. With you. Before he could overthink it any further, the door creaked open.

You blinked up at him, looking slightly surprised. Your hair was slightly mussed, like you’d just rolled out of bed, and there was a soft flush to your cheeks, probably from the heat of the apartment. You were wearing the blue knit sweater that he has seen quite often now and a pair of leggings that hugged your curves in a way that made his brain short-circuit for half a second. He had to force himself to keep his eyes firmly on yours, gripping the bag a little tighter.

“Hey,” you said, a small, surprised smile pulling at your lips. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I would never,” Jay replied, holding up the bag.

You stepped back to let him in, turning to walk toward the living room, and Jay, against his better judgment, found himself glancing down again. He yanked his gaze away, blinking rapidly as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Jay cleared his throat and stared at the nearest object, which just happened to be your bookshelf. He was surprised for a second at how many books you owned. The shelf was filled with books and trinkets and a collection of vinyls. 

You laughed softly, walking into the direction of your living room sofa. “I thought you were joking. This is really nice of you.”

Jay shrugged, trying to play it off, though his heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest. “I wasn’t about to let you starve,” he said, glancing around your apartment. “Where’s your little kitty?”

You tilted your head toward the couch. “She abandoned me the second you knocked. Betrayal.”

Jay grinned, shifting the bag to the coffee table and pulling out the containers. “Figures. I brought Japanese food, I hope that's okay.”

You hummed in agreement, flopping down onto the couch with a little sigh, after you set down two glasses and a bottle of water. 

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you murmured, pulling yourself into a cross-legged position as you watched him unpack the food. 

“It was no hussle. Really.”, he handed you a container with rice in it. “I would have had to eat something anyway and I really didn’t feel like cooking. I made steak with carbonara yesterday and cleaning up afterwards was so time consuming I didn't feel like cooking again today.”

“Oh?”, your eyes flickered back to him. “I didn’t know you like cooking?”

He nodded and put some rice onto his spoon, “I love cooking. I cook for my mom and my roommates all the time. I think it’s fun and if i don't cook Jake and Heeseung would live from Ramen.” 

You hummed and took a bit from the curry Jay brought. “That’s so nice. I can’t cook for life. I don’t trust myself in the kitchen.”

“Lucky for you, you now unlocked a personal chef.”, he joked. 

You laughed at him and hummed in agreement, while taking a bit of curry. 

Jay’s eyes flicked back to the bookshelf. There were neatly arranged rows of novels, some well-loved and worn, along with a few figurines peeking out here and there. From (obsessively) watching your videos and Tiktoks (RIP) he knew you were right now rereading the city of bones series and he saw the thick book laying on the floor next to your sofa. Colorful tabs were peeking out under the worn cover. 

„You have quite a big book collection. Have you read them all?“

You hummed again looking into the direction of your bookshelf aswell. „Most of them? My to-be-read books are on a bookshelf in my bedroom. I have about 48 left for this year to finish my reading goal.“

Jay looked back at you. „Reading goal?“

“Yeah. I try to read at least a book a month and i finished 4 already.”, you put the container you were holding back onto the coffee table and stood up. “I have a whole journal dedicated to my books.” 

Jay watched as you grabbed a small, overstuffed journal from the shelf. His gaze softened as you came back to the couch, settling down cross-legged a bit closer next to him. You put the journal on the coffee table and flipped it open, revealing pages filled with handwritten notes, colorful tabs, and tiny doodles. It looked like a lot of work. 

Jay scooted closer to you, his focus on the journal. “This is impressive. You really keep track of everything you read?”

You nodded, flipping through a few pages. “I like to rate them, write down my thoughts, favorite quotes… stuff like that. It’s relaxing, and it helps me remember the details.”

“What’s the latest book you read?” he asked, eyes focused on how your fingers moved across the pages.

You reached for the worn copy of City of Bones next to the couch, holding it up with a sheepish smile. “I’m actually rereading this series right now. I read the whole series back when it came out in like 2012? But I had quite a few edits of the male main character on my fyp and I kinda wanted to re-read it. I still love it, Jace was one of my first big fictional crushes.”

Jay laughed slightly and his gaze drifted back at your journal. The page that was flipped open had a print out of the cover of a book glued into it. He blinked, leaning in to take a closer look. A man in hockey gear stood front and center on the cover, and beneath it, in your neat handwriting, he spotted something that made him pause. ‘Heeseung and Jay remind me of Logan and Garreth. At least a bit.’ 

He tilted his head slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face as he reached for the notebook. “Wait a second,” he said, “Are you reading… hockey romances?”

You froze, mid movement, your hand lingering in the air still holding your edition of city of bones. A flush crept up your cheeks as you followed his gaze. “Oh. Um, yeah. Kind of.”

Jay’s grin widened, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “What do you mean, kind of? That’s a hockey stick right there on the cover.”

You groaned, leaning back against the couch as Gracie emerged from her cat bed and jumped onto the sofa, nestling against your thigh. “Okay, maybe a few. But it’s not what you think. These are actually really good! They’re funny and sweet, and the characters are…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “...well-written, okay? Don’t judge me.” You turned your face away in slight embarrassment. 

Jay raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous. “Oh, sure. Well-written. I’m sure that’s why you’re all flushed.” He leaned back, stretching one arm along the back of the couch, the other still holding the journal, scanning the text. “Let me guess. It’s the character development that really got you during that, uh... locker room scene?”

Your eyes widened, and a soft squeak escaped your lips. “Stop reading that!”

He shifted, angling himself away from you to continue reading. “So, what exactly happens in this locker room? Should I be taking notes?”

“Oh my God,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “It’s not- Jay, stop! It’s not what you think!”

Jay chuckled, his laugh low and warm. You were cute when you got flustered, all pink cheeks and wide eyes. He couldn't get enough of it. 

“No need to explain yourself,” he said, enjoying himself. “I get it. Hockey players are hot. I mean, look at me.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, shooting him a glare from between your fingers.

But your reaction only fueled him on. “I’m just saying,” he continued, leaning closer. “If you’re into tall guys with great stick-handling skills, you could’ve just said so.”

You groaned again, louder this time, and even Gracie meowed as if to add to your mortification. “Jay!”

“What?” He laughed, thoroughly entertained. “I’m just trying to understand your literary taste. It’s research.” HIs eyes flickered back to the journal.

“Maybe,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “Who knows? Might even learn a thing or two from these ‘well-written’ books of yours.”

Just the thought of you reading hockey romances made his mind wander, his thoughts going in places it shouldn't. His pulse quickened, but he pushed the thought down with a smirk. He knew too well what that locker scene was about. Jeonghee, the teams social media manager made them read that exact scene.

“I don’t think there really is a lot for you to learn from these books. You do know hockey and you-”, you made a short pause, “know your ways around the ladies, as far as i know”. Shaking your head, you reached out to pluck your journal out of his hands. You pressed it against your chest and pouted at him. When your eyes met, his brain completely abandoned its job. Thoughts? Gone. Words? Irrelevant. You looked adorable.

“Mhm you are sure the locker scene couldn’t teach me anything? Maybe I should read that book as well.”, he shrugged and smirked at you, grabbing his container of curry again.

You gasped and hit him with your journal. “Jay. What the hell. You are impossible.”

He laughed and raised his hand to defend himself from your attack. "Do you even know the rules of hockey?" 

Your brow furrowed, eyes narrowing at him as you sat up, your attention fully on him now. "I know enough," you said. "You hit the puck, score goals, and try not to get punched?"

Jay couldn’t help but laugh at your confidence. It reminded him of your comment about them ‘playing in powerplay’ a few days ago. You were trying to be supportive, even if you were completely clueless. Jake and Yeonjun didn’t let him breath afterwards. 

“That’s...not totally wrong?" he said with a chuckle, the corner of his lips twitching up. He leaned in a little closer, his voice shifting into a more playful tone. “But there’s a little more to it than that.”

“Oh, yeah?” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

He shifted closer, trying his best to keep it together.

"Like icing. Or offsides. Or powerplays." He tilted his head, his eyes flicking to yours, and his voice dropped again, softer now. "If you’re going to read hockey romances, you should at least know what’s happening on the ice."

"Jay!" you said, but it wasn’t annoying. It was playful, lighthearted, and - damn, he loved hearing it.

Jay’s grin widened, and he leaned in a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “If you want a lesson, I’m more than happy to teach.” He noticed the way your breath hitched just slightly, and it sent a rush of heat through his chest. He had to admit, he was having way too much fun with this.

He leaned back again, trying to steady his racing thoughts. He shouldn’t focus on the way you looked, how you pouted when you tried to act mad. He definitely shouldn’t think about how cute it was when you crossed your arms like you were trying to protect yourself from his teasing. And he should definitely not think about you reading those locker room scenes. Getting all flushed and flustered for different reasons. 

You glared at him but with a soft edge, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Oh, you think you can just throw out some hockey terminology and impress me?”

Jay shrugged, looking effortlessly confident. “Works for some people,” he said, a playful gleam in his eyes. 

"Are you offering to teach me hockey rules so I understand my books better, Jay?", you leaned in closer to him. He could feel the warmth radiating from you, and for a brief, unhinged moment, he considered stepping closer. 

“Why not? I’m practically a pro.” Jay’s lips curved into a slow grin. “I’d take it very seriously. After all, I’m in a prime position to verify the accuracy of the hockey parts.”

Your eyes rolled, but he caught the smile that tugged at your lips. "Oh, right," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because that’s the part of the book you’d focus on."

"Well, yeah," Jay said, his grin widening. "If it helps you visualize those locker room scenes better, I’m happy to provide insight." 

He would love to provide insight on that. Desperately. The way you laughed, head thrown back, looking both exasperated and amused, made Jay's chest tighten again. You were so soft and pretty, he wanted to reach out and touch your face so badly. 

“Alright, alright,” you said, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms again, but there was a slight smirk pulling at your lips. “You'll have to start with the basics. Even if i don't really need them to read hockey romances.”

Jay couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m just trying to help you expand your knowledge. It might come in handy and it’s educational.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Well, fine. Educate me,” you said, leaning forward a little, “I’m expecting some quality answers and a physical performance of important moves if necessary.”

“Trust me,” Jay said with a wink, “I always give a good performance.”

You were rubbing your hands onto each other while you were hurrying through the crowd of people entering the ice rink on the decelis campus. A few enthusiastic fans were already making their way to the stands even though the game was supposed to start in almost one and a half hours. 

When you found Chaeryoung, she was already settled in her seat, looking completely at home in her oversized jersey with Yeonjun’s name printed on it. Her eyes sparkled as she scanned the players already warming up on the ice. 

"Sorry I'm late," you said breathlessly, slipping into the empty seat next to her. "Professor Shin ignored that the lecture should have ended at four thirty and ended it like 20 minutes later. Made me want to shoot myself into my head."

“You’re just in time for warm-ups,” she said, nudging you lightly with her elbow. “Why does it take an evening together with Jay to convince you to come along to watch a game?”

You groaned, having had his conversation about three times since you asked her if she was watching the game today. “Like I told you, he invited me because he claims I will understand the rules better when watching a game in real life. Jay didn’t really have to convince me,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, but you could already feel the heat rising on your face. “He just... invited me. I thought it might be fun to see the game live.”

You would also like to see him in his element. The way he so enthusiastically explained everything and even showed you videos for better understanding, made you want to see him skate. He was right. You apparently did have a thing for tall hockey men with good stick handling skills. Especially if their names are Jay Park and they come and surprise you with food and butterflies in your stomach. 

Chaeryoung let out a little snort of laughter, turning her head to look at you. “Uh-huh, sure. The ‘game’ convinced you to come.” Her tone was light, teasing, but there was a spark of amusement in her eyes.

You groaned, feeling your face heat up. “I’m just here to watch them play with their sticks. I guess?"

“Come on.”, she laughed, shaking her head “I see the way you are staring at Jay at any given chance.”

“First of all I am not staring, I am looking respectfully. And second of all why wouldn’t I? He is hot and I am here to be, you know, supportive to my new friend. Right. My new friend Jay.”, you didn’t sound convincing even to your own ears. But who were you to try to fool Chaeryoung, she could read you like the back of her hand. 

Your friend raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden defensive tone. “Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s all you’re doing. Just being a good friend.”

You shot her a glare, but it only made her laugh more. “Hey, you should be happy you aren’t alone today and enjoy my presence. This may be a once in a lifetime thing.” 

Chaeryoung just grinned, her eyes flickering back to the ice. “I am babes, don’t get me wrong. But Jay had to convince you?”

“Can we just focus on the game?”, you turned your gaze towards the ice, watching as the players from both teams were stretching and gliding around. “Or well, whatever they are doing there?”

“Warming up.”, she clarified, shrugging. “Jay's back number is 99, he is one of the forwards. Junnie is a defensemen but he is in the second line, so he won’t start the game.”

You nodded. You had picked up some of the basics. The forwards try to score, the defensemen block the shots, and the goalie defends the goal and is, according to Jay, absolutely batshit crazy. Well knowing Beomguy yourself, Jay's judgement of his character may be correct. The lines in the game are zones, don’t run over the zone line without a puck, don't trip anyone, don't play the puck above shoulder high, don't use your hockey stick to touch anything but the puck and try to not get into a brawl with anyone. If gloves come off, look away or enjoy men being brutal. Got that. 

You tried to spot Jay. The players all wore the same gear and their helmets were keeping their faces hidden but they were moving so fast, you had a hard time keeping up with the back numbers. 

The third period was just about to start when you reluctantly gathered your things, pulling your coat tighter around you.

“Leaving already?” Chaeryoung asked, her brows furrowing as she glanced at the ice. “The game’s just getting good!”

“I know, but I can’t be late for my shift,” you said, slipping your bag over your shoulder. “Haechan will rip my head off if i get there late and he has to spend his ‘precious friday evening in that shoe box’”

“You should think he loves his job, the way he boasts about being one of the hosts.”, Chaeryoung deadpanned.

“He does. He just doesn’t like being in the studio when he doesn't have to be.”, you shrugged and moved down a step, “Keep me updated and enjoy the rest of the game for me!”

“Oh, I will,” she teased. “I’ll let Jay know his friend had to skip out early. Have fun at the station.” she smiled at you, but her focus was back at the ice when the crowd around you groaned in frustration. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Navigating through the crowd, you made your way toward the exit, already mentally preparing for the long evening ahead. Just as you rounded the corner near the concessions, someone stepped into your path, nearly colliding with you.

“Whoa, hey!”

You looked up to find Sunghoon, his familiar grin spreading across his face.

“Sunghoon? What are you doing here?” you asked, surprised.

“Supporting the guys,” he said, gesturing toward the ice. “Jake claims I am his personal lucky charm so I am obligated to attend.”

“Right,” you said, stepping aside to let someone pass. “I forgot how close you all are.”

“What about you?” he asked, tilting his head. “Not sticking around for the third period?”

You sighed, hitching your bag higher on your shoulder. “I’d love to, but I’ve got a shift at the station.”

“Damn i forgot you host fridays,” he said, shaking his head sympathetically. “Too bad, though. There’s a party after the game. You should come celebrate their win and getting some free booze.”

“Wish I could, Jay also invited me, but I’ll be working until like eleven?”, you said with a shrug.

Sunghoon’s smirk widened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Bummer. I’m pretty sure he’d love to see you.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you rolled your eyes to play it cool. “I’ll try to stop by, but no promises.”

“Fair enough,” he said, stepping aside to let you pass. “I’ll let him know. He’s gonna be bummed, though.”

“Sure. I really have to get going. It was nice to see you Sunghoon, maybe until later.”, you smiled at him and continued your way to the exit of the ice rink.

You entered the studio just in time, as Haechan was queuing his last song of the evening. “This has been 37.5 MHz Haechan Radio. Thank you so much for listening.”

He clicked off his mic just as you dropped your bag on the couch by the door. Spinning his chair around, Haechan grinned at you.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” he said, throwing up his arms in a dramatic gesture.

“I’m literally right on time,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile as you let yourself into the recording booth.

“Barely,” he quipped, standing to stretch. “For a minute there, I thought you were gonna leave me hanging. Can you imagine? Poor me, abandoned, forced to extend my show just to fill dead air…”

“Spare me the dramatics,” you said, nudging him aside so you could take his seat. “You’d love the extra airtime, and you know it.”

“True,” he admitted, leaning against the desk as you adjusted the mic to your height. “But I also love my Friday night freedom.”

“I once did too.” you replied dryly.

Haechan laughed, giving you a quick salute as he grabbed his bag. “Knock ’em dead.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the studio. You settled into the chair and pulled your headphones on.

“This is Y/N, and you’re tuned in to 37.5 MHz. Today we are going to travel through time and listen to a lot of 90s and 2000 bangers, to get you all hyped up for your Friday evening parties. Please send in any song wishes or recommendations to our instagram and remember to have fun, but don’t have to much fun! This is Britney Spears with her hit song ‘Baby hit me one more time’,” you said into the mic, officially starting your programm of the evening.

This job was everything you’d dreamed of. Landing your own show at the station, especially on a Friday evening as a first year, was a big thing. You weren't about to take it for granted, especially since this job was looking very good in your CV. You always wanted to work in the entertainment industry and this was a good opportunity to get a foot into the door. But that didn’t mean it didn’t come with sacrifices.

Sometimes, you wondered if you’d been too eager to take Johnny’s spot. When he graduated he was looking for a new host to take over his show. He was ecstatic when he saw your application and a few days later his signature slot was yours. While you loved it, you couldn’t deny the occasional pang of regret when your friends made plans without you or when nights like this one rolled around.

The first hour passed uneventfully, your curated playlist keeping you company as you took requests and made the occasional announcement. You leaned back in your chair, pulling out your macbook to work on an essay that was due in a few days, while Rihanna was singing about her umbrellas in the background. You got a bit of work done before the four songs you queued up were done playing. As you announced the next track, your phone buzzed against the desk. You picked it up to find a text from Jay.

Jay Sunghoon told me you left early :(  Wish I got to see you after the game

You smiled, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before you typed a reply.

Y/N Sorry :(  I had to literally run to the station since i stayed as long as i could But I did catch that penalty kill in the second period I was holding my breath the whole time! Jay Oh wow, I’m impressed you remember what it’s called Look at you, turning into a real hockey pro You rolled your eyes at the screen, still smiling. Y/N I did actually pay attention when you explained the rules to me okay!! I’m still not entirely sure I know what offside means Jay We’ll work on that. I’m always available for hockey lessons Y/N Sure lmao The next time i am lost during the game I wont ask Chae but shout over the glass to ask you Jay Please do ahahah

You put your phone back onto the table, queuing up a few more songs after checking the recommendations in the stations instagram account, when you phone vibrated again. 

Jay How’s the station?  Y/N  It’s fine, just me and the music I am working on the essay for COM 1 Jay Want some company?  I could skip the party and come by :) 

Your heart skipped, and for a moment, you stared at the screen, unsure how to respond.

Y/N That’s sweet, but you should celebrate with your friends I’ll be fine here Jay You’re sure? I don’t mind I’ve gotten drunk too often in the last few weeks My liver would thank me for a small pause Y/N Yes I am sure Park Go and celebrate your win! 

After you wrapped up your shift and closed the station for the day you texted Lia and Chaeryoung that you were on your way to the bar and asked them to let you know if they were still there. As you stepped out into the cold night air your phone vibrated and you saw Chaeryoungs face smiling at you. You pressed your phone to your ear as Chaeryoung’s voice slurred through the line.

“Y/N! Where are you?” Chaeryoung’s voice was loud as she almost screamed over the loud background music.

“I’m on my way, Chaeryoung,” you said, pulling your jacket tighter.

She giggled. “Hurry up! They are doing body shots right now. The exchange students are going crazy right now.”

“I will babes. I’m there in like fifteen minutes.”, you hung up, laughing to yourself.

As you stood just inside the entryway of the full bar, scanning the room for Chaeryoung, you were bumped lightly from behind. Before you could even turn, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N!”

You spun around to find Sunghoon grinning at you. “You made it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “Have you seen Chaeryoung?”

“Yeah but she’s off doing god knows what,” Sunghoon laughed, shaking his head and swaying dangerously. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink!”

As you were pulled through the crowd, people greeted Sunghoon enthusiastically, clapping him on the back or offering him shots, which he accepted without hesitation. You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, and accept your first shots of the evening aswell.

At the bar, you spotted Jay leaning casually against the counter, a drink in hand. His cheeks were flushed, and his grin widened when he saw you approaching. His hair was tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it all night, and his leather jacket clung to his broad shoulders in a way that made your mouth dry.

“Y/N!” Jay called, his voice bright with excitement. He set his drink down and took a step toward you pulling you into a hug. Okay, this was new. Not bad. But new

“Jay,” you greeted a bit breathless, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped when you felt his broad chest collided with yours. He had to have a six pack. A eight pack??

After a second your brain decided to come back to its senses, even though your actual senses were filled with Jay. He smelled so heavenly. And his warm body pressing into yours was a stark contrast to the biting cold of the outside. “Congratulations on the win!”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling at you and letting you go from his embrace. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“I couldn’t miss the chance to celebrate,” you said, returning his smile.

Jay chuckled. “What are you drinking?"

“Whatever you can recommend?",” you shrugged, glancing around for Sunghoon, who had already wandered off.

Jay turned to the bartender and ordered a martini pornstar. Before you could say anything else, someone bumped into you, and you nearly lost your balance. Instinctively, you reached out to steady yourself, and before you could fall, you felt a firm hand settle on your waist.

“Careful,” Jay’s voice was low in your ear, his touch warm against your side. 

“I’m fine,” you managed, glancing up at him, only to realize how close his face was to yours now. 

“You really have to stop falling for me like this,” Jay teased, looking down at you.

You fought the urge to smile, biting back a grin. “If I remember correctly, I wasn’t exactly falling for you. I was trying my best not to faceplant. You just happened to be in the way.”

“In the way?” Jay’s lips curved into a teasing smile, and he placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “Ouch, Y/N. That stings.”

He rested his arm casually on the bar as he leaned in a little closer, just enough to make the space between you two feel impossibly small. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t faceplant,” he said softly, his gaze dipping to your lips for just a moment before meeting your eyes again. “That would’ve been tragic for both you and my jacket.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at him, the space between you two so close now that it felt impossible to focus on anything else. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’d survive,” you whispered, unable to stop the way your eyes drifted down to his lips, then back to his intense gaze.

A very drunk Jake appeared on Jay’s other side, a grin plastered across his face. “Y/N!” he said loudly, throwing an arm around Jay’s shoulder to steady himself. “You`re here!”

“I am,” you replied, laughing softly at his enthusiasm. Looking back at Jay. His hand remained around your waist and his pretty face was pulled into a frown, when he looked at Jake.

“Do you want a shot?” Jake asked, not waiting for your answer before flagging down the bartender. “Three shots of tequila, please!”

Jay opened his mouth to protest but was immediately ignored as Jake handed you one of the shots, his grin widening. 

“Cheers!” he said enthusiastically, raising his glass.

You glanced at Jay, whose lips curled into a smile but his eyes narrowed slightly. “I think that's not a good idea.” Jay said, his tone light but firm. 

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I think I can handle one shot,” you said, raising the glass to your lips.

You swallowed the shot, the heat spreading through your chest, but you didn’t break eye contact. His eyes flicked to your lips as you finished, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, almost predatory smirk.

“I know you can,” he murmured, his voice low. He was close enough now that you felt his breath against the shell of your ear as he spoke. You swallowed again. Hard. “I’m just not sure about him.”

Jake leaned over to order another round of shots. Jay let out a soft sigh, removing his hand from your hip, to stop his friend. 

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight, Jake,” Jay said, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder and steering him toward the crowd. 

“You're a party pooper, Jay.”, he shook his head, “I am going to find Hoonie, he is going to want a shot!” 

As Jake stumbled off again, you shook your head. “I should probably also find my friends before they think I bailed.” 

Jay’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he masked it with a smile. “Sure. Will we see each other later?”

“Definitely,” you promised, giving him a small wave as you stepped back into the crowd.

The next time you bumped into Jay was on the dancefloor. You were dancing with your friends, singing, well screaming, along to the songs blaring from the speakers. Minho and Changbin had done an excellent job getting you drunk, offering shot after shot and drink after drink until everything around you buzzed with a pleasant warmth. The bass vibrated through your chest, as you lifted your lifted into the air, your hips instinctively moving to the beat.

The first beats of Teenage Dream started playing and you gasped. 

“Oh my god! This is my song!” you exclaimed, closing your eyes as you belted out the lyrics.

When you opened them again, you spotted Jay and his friends stepping onto the dancefloor or more accurately, being pulled into the crowd by Jake and Sunghoon, with a reluctant-looking Heeseung trailing behind. Jay's grin widened when he spotted you, and before you could process it, he was steering his friends through the crowd into your direction. Jake almost immediately jumped Felix, also belting Teenage Dream. 

“You’re a Katy Perry fan?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise as he reached you.

“Who isn’t?” you shot back, already singing along to the lyrics, your voice a little loud and off-key, as you swayed to the rhythm, your movements just slightly unsteady.

Jay laughed, and to your delight, he joined in, belting out the chorus. 

“When did you get this drunk?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched you spin in place.

“I’m not drunk! Just tipsy!” you corrected with a grin, catching his arm to steady yourself mid-spin.

Jay’s hand instinctively came to your waist, steadying you as you giggled. “Okay, tipsy, maybe we should cool off for a bit?”

“Nooo!” you protested, grabbing his free hand and shaking it with exaggerated insistence. “We can’t leave Katy hanging!”

Jay threw his head back, laughing, but he didn’t argue. God he was so pretty. He stayed by your side, belting out the rest of the song with you, his voice blending with your off-key enthusiasm.

It wasn’t until the DJ transitioned to a rap track you didn’t recognize that you finally relented to take a small break. The world was a bit wonkier than you’d like and the fact that Jay was so close that you could feel his body heat radiate into yours made your heart beat faster than you'd like.

Jay guided you through the crowd, his hand warm on your back as he led you to the door. The cool night air hit your face like a splash of water, sobering you slightly as you stepped onto the patio. 

You sighed in relief, tilting your head back to feel the cool breeze against your skin. “This is so much better,” you murmured. 

You shivered slightly, tugging your cardigan tighter around you as you stepped onto the sidewalk. You spotted a bench a few feet away, its wooden slats looking inviting despite the cold. Without thinking, you made your way over and sat down.

Jay hesitated for a moment before joining you, his shoulder brushing yours lightly as he settled in. He glanced at you and frowned when he saw you shiver again. 

“You’re freezing,” he murmured.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your teeth chattered slightly.

Jay didn’t say anything. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. It smelled like him. Whatever cologne that is, it’s probably illegal in seven countries for how unfairly attractive it makes Jay smell.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, pulling it tighter around you.

“Of course,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long.

You tilted your head back to look at the sky, the stars faint against the glow of the city lights. “You were so cool at the game,” you said suddenly, your words slightly slurred.

Jay chuckled. “Oh yeah?”

“I mean it,” you insisted, turning to face him, though the motion made your head spin slightly. “The way you all move and like i don’t know glide over the ice? And you can still stop and ugh. It was very cool to watch. And i understood stuff. Very cool. And I am rambling. I should stop.” When did you get that drunk. You didn’t even drink that much. Maybe, just, a few shots and a few drinks? Okay. Scratch that, you did definitely drink more than planned.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, his expression softening. “That’s good to hear. I tried extra hard today, knowing you would be there and yeah.”

You positively beamed at him. He played good to impress you? “Oh that’s so nice. Thank you.”, without thinking you rested your head on his shoulders, shuffling a bit closer to him and his body warmth.

Jay froze for a second, but then you felt him rest his head on yours as well.

A yawn escaped you before you could stop it, and you blinked.

“Tired?” Jay asked.

“Nope,” you lied, shaking your head, though the weight of his jacket and the buzz of the alcohol were making you feel dangerously close to curling up right there. “Totally wide awake. I want more shots.”

Jay laughed, the sound vibrating through you. “I think you’ve had enough for one night.”

“Lies!” you declared, standing up abruptly. The world tilted, and you quickly sat back down, clutching the bench for support. “Maybe just one more.”

Jay groaned softly, running a hand through his hair as he watched you give him your best pout, complete with wide, imploring puppy eyes. “Y/N, you’ve already had, what? Five? Six shots?”

“Four,” you corrected, holding up three fingers. Then you frowned and switched to four. “Maybe five. But that’s not the point!”

Jay crossed his arms, one brow arching as he fought to keep a straight face. “The point is you’re done for the night.”

“I’m not,” you protested, leaning against the bench dramatically. “One more. One teeny, tiny little shot. Pleeease?”

Jay shook his head, laughing under his breath. “Y/N, no.”

You groaned, throwing your head back in mock despair. “But Jay, I never get to have this much fun.”

“Trust me, you’ll have more fun when you don’t wake up feeling like your head’s been run over by a car,” he teased.

You pouted harder. “You’re mean. The meanest ever. Jake would let me drink another shot. He is so nice”

Jay rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “You’re not going to guilt-trip me into this.”

You squinted at him, tilting your head as if assessing his resolve. Then, with a dramatic sigh, you straightened and muttered, “Fine. But only because you’re cute.” What. 

Jay froze for a fraction of a second, the words clearly catching him off guard. “I’m cute?” he repeated, a teasing smile replacing his initial surprise.

“Devastatingly,” you mumbled, clearly not realizing what you’d just said and when you did, just a fraction too late you had the desire to hit your head onto the concrete floor.

Jay bit back a laugh, reaching out to steady you as you wobbled slightly. “Come on. Let’s get you some water, tipsy.”

Reluctantly, you let him help you up. His hand was warm and steady on your back as he guided you inside. The bar was still lively, and Jake immediately spotted you.

“Y/N! Another shot!” he shouted, holding up a glass triumphantly.

“Yes!” you started to cheer, but Jay’s arm came up, blocking you slightly as he intercepted the glass.

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly, tossing the shot back himself before placing the empty glass on the bar. The smoothness of his motion, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, left you momentarily speechless. All thoughts left your brain.

“That was so sexy,” you mumbled, barely realizing you’d said it out loud. You were pretty sure this shot could have been the beginning of an erotica movie. Amazing.

Jay turned to you, his lips twitching into a teasing smile. “Glad you think so.”

He handed the empty glass back to Jake, who looked mildly impressed despite his tipsy state. “That’s the last one. For everyone.”

“I hate you,” you muttered, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

“Sure you do,” Jay replied, his voice low and teasing. 

He steered you gently toward your friends, making sure you said goodbye to everyone. Chaeryoung hugged you tightly, Felix gave you a goofy thumbs-up, and Jake pouted when Jay wouldn’t let him order another round.

When the two of you were back at the door, Jay stopped, turning to face you with a small frown. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” 

“I’m sure,” you said, smiling up at him. “It’s a short walk. I’ll call you!”

Jay hesitated, his gaze searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. But call me as soon as you get home.”

“Deal,” you said, leaning up and impulsively pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek. You pulled back, the reality of what you’d just done hitting you like a freight train. Did you just kiss him? Oh my God, you just kissed him. Abort mission. Run. MOVE.

But your feet betrayed you, glued to the ground as heat flooded your face. “Uh- sorry. That was- I didn’t mean-” you stammered, your words tangling together and your face heating up. “Okay, I meant it, but I didn’t mean it like that, I just - oh my God, can you forget I just did that?”

Jay blinked, his expression shifting into something almost unreadable. Soft, maybe a little amused? Then his lips curved into the kind of smile that made your heart stumble over itself.

“I’m not forgetting that,” he said, his voice warm and quiet. “But if you want me to, I’ll pretend you didn’t just completely short-circuit in front of me.”

“I- ” you started, then closed your mouth, unsure if you should laugh or cry. Probably both. “I’m fine. Totally fine. I just - goodnight!”

You turned quickly, trying to escape the scene of your own emotional car crash, but Jay reached out, catching your wrist gently. The warmth of his hand stopped you dead.

“Hey.” His tone was soft, coaxing, as he leaned down just slightly to meet your gaze. “Don’t overthink it, okay? I liked it.”

You blinked at him, the words hitting like a slow wave. “You did?”

Jay’s grin widened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Yeah. Though I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm next time.”

“Next time?” you repeated, your voice rising an octave. Oh no, your brain has officially checked out again. Someone reboot you. “Next time,” he said firmly, letting go of your wrist but brushing his fingers over yours in a way that felt deliberate, lingering. “But for now, go home before I decide to ignore my better judgment and walk you there anyway.”

You could only nod, your heart thudding in your chest as you stumbled out into the cool night air. Next time. His words replayed over and over in your head as you made your way home. 

When you could see your apartment building you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. Taking a deep breath and pretending that your heart wasn’t still racing you called Jay.

He picked up almost instantly. “Y/N?”

“I am almost home, Jay. I can see my apartment building already. I am safe and sound.”, you said softly.

“Good,” he said, his voice softening. “I’m still walking you to the door, though. Stay on the phone. I-” Jay was interrupted by Jakes slurred and offended voice.

“Y/N went home? My shots partner ditched me?”

Jay sighed, but there was an unmistakable fondness in his tone. “She didn’t ditch you. She’s tired and needed to get home.”

“You’re so boring,” Jake grumbled. “Let me talk to her!”

“Jake-”

“Jaaaay, let me talk to her!” Jake’s whining made you laugh, and Jay sighed in defeat before you could hear him handing the phone over.

“Y/N!” Jake’s voice boomed through the speaker.

“Jake,” you greeted, suppressing your laughter. The embarrassment, the fresh air and the bottle of water you bought in the GS25 did a good job in sobering you up at least a bit. 

“You’re a traitor,” he accused, though his tone was playful. “We were supposed to keep the shot streak alive. Katy is playing again!”

“Next time,” you promised, nodding even though he could see you.

“Fine,” Jake said with a dramatic huff before handing the phone back.

“Sorry about that,” Jay said, his tone dry but amused.

“It’s okay. Jake’s fun.” You paused. “I’m almost home. You can hang up now and go back to the others.”

“No,” Jay said firmly. “I’m not hanging up. Not until you’re inside.”

You punched the pin to your apartment into the number pad as Jay was fending off a drunk Jake again. You haphazardly kicked off your shoes as Gracie trotted over to greet you. 

“Oh my God, Gracie,” you squealed. “You’re so cute. Did you miss me? I missed you.”

Gracie purred loudly, rubbing her head against your hand. 

“I’m home!” you declared into your speaker. “Also, guess what?”

Jay chuckled softly. “What?”

“Gracie missed me,” you said with a dramatic sigh, collapsing onto your couch. “Like, she’s acting like I’ve been gone for years. She’s the best cat ever, Jay. Like, ever. And she forgives me for leaving her because she loves me so much.”

Mhm. Maybe not as sober as you thought.

“Of course,” he said, his tone amused. “I’m glad Gracie forgives you. She’s very forgiving.”

“She is,” you agreed, stroking her fur as she curled up on your lap. 

Jay laughed softly, the sound warm in your ear. 

“But she’s still the best. I mean, look at her-wait, you can’t see her. She’s being adorable right now, though. You’d die.”

“I am sure she is.”, he laughed again. 

Ugh why must his laugh be that attractive.

“I had so much fun tonight. And Gracie’s the cherry on top. She’s purring like crazy right now. ”

“Oh, really?” he teased.

“Really,” you insisted. 

Jay’s laughter filled the line, warm and teasing. “You should sleep now.”

“Okay, fine,” you mumbled, getting up from the floor, “Congratulations on your win again.”

“Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me.” he said softly.

For a short moment neither of you said anything until he urged you to drink some water and to go to sleep.

“Good night, Y/N”

“Good night, Jay.”

God, you were in trouble.

The morning sunlight filtered through Jay’s curtains, waking him slowly. Blinking against the brightness, he stretched out on his bed, his muscles pleasantly sore. 

He reached for his phone. The screen lit up, revealing a flood of notifications. New Instagram followers. Dozens of comments on his Posts. As well as a dozen DMs. 

Choi Jeonghee  What did you do?!

Jay groaned softly, rubbing his face as he sat up in bed. He did nothing, or well nothing that would have gotten him any trouble with the media or similar? After you left yesterday he collected Jake, Heeseung and Sunghoon and made them go home and he fell into his bed as soon as they walked through the doorway. Maybe his dad posted on the official instagram of Park ent. and tagged him? 

He opened Instagram first, scrolling through the sea of new followers and tags. Confused, he checked his DMs, finding them packed with messages—mostly from strangers, a few from people he vaguely recognized.

Then he saw it: a tagged story from you.

Clicking on it, he was greeted by a short clip of the two of you from last night, dancing to Katy Perry. The video was shaky, and a bit blurry and Felix and Jakes voices were drowning out the actual singer by belting the lyrics. Even completely sober you looked beautiful to him. You were laughing and holding onto him, while he was looking at you like you were holding the stars in your eyes. You tagged him and the bar you met in yesterday. You also posted a picture of Chaeryoung during the match yesterday.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that your fans must have seen the story and just started following him because of that. You have told him before, that your fans were very invested in your love life and how you weren’t a big fan of that, so you tried to keep that as secret as possible, never really posting about it. They would love you and Han together but you assured him that you weren’t interested in Han a bit. He did believe you but he wasn’t so sure that Han felt the same. Every time he crossed paths with you and your friend group, whether on campus or down by the creek, Han shot him glances sharp enough to kill.

He was about to text Jeonghee back when a soft knocking sound came from his door and Heeseung peaked into his room. His hair was standing off in every direction.

“Good morning. You want breakfast? Jeonghee came over and brought some pasties from the creek to celebrate yesterday's win. And she kinda wants to know what you and Y/N did. She said she wants it straight from the source.”, his voice sounded a bit rough, like he just woke up as well.

Jay groaned, tossing his phone onto the bed. “I didn’t do anything. She tagged me in a story, and now her fans are swarming my account.”

“Tell that to Jeonghee, not me.”

Reluctantly, Jay got out of bed, throwing on a hoodie before heading to the kitchen. The smell of coffee and something vaguely burnt greeted him as he entered.

Jake and Sunghoon sat slumped at the table, their heads resting on their arms. Jeonghee sat by the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Morning, lover boy,” she greeted with a smirk.

Jay rolled his eyes, grabbing a mug. “Please don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Jeonghee began, sliding into a seat across from him, “that story went viral. Y/N’s fans are convinced you two are a thing. And honestly, from the way you were looking at her, I can’t blame them.”

Jake groaned, lifting his head slightly. “Can we talk quieter? My head feels like it’s been put through a blender.”

“Maybe don’t take shots with Sunghoon next time,” Jeonghee shot back, unimpressed.

Sunghoon raised a hand weakly. “I regret nothing.”

Jeonghee ignored him, turning her attention back to Jay. “Anyway, the engagement our posts have had in the last hours is insane. People started making edits for you.”

Jay frowned, his grip tightening on his mug. “What does that mean?”

“It means that her fans are now invested. And that she probably is too. I know from trustworthy sources that that should be the case. And I also know that if you don’t get your ass up soon someone else will.” 

“You mean Han?”, Jay raised an eyebrow. 

Sunghoon snorted, half-asleep. “Man, he is so hopeless.”

Jay shook his head. “I don’t think he has the balls to make a move on her.”

Jeonghee smirked, sipping her coffee. “I don’t think so either, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. You’ve seen how he hovers around her, Jay.”

Jay leaned back in his chair, processing her words. The thought of Han crowding you, oblivious to your lack of interest, made his jaw tighten. Especially after he knew you were not interested in Han. Maybe he was just as delusional as Han, but especially after yesterday he was sure that you had a thing for him.

Heeseung chimed in. “Look, Jay. You like her, right?”

Jay hesitated, glancing around the table at his friends. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I do.”

“Then what’s the holdup?” Heeseung asked, spreading his hands. “You’ve got an opening. Just… be honest with her.”

“Honest about what?” Jay asked, feigning ignorance. He was about to say that Heeseung was the one to speak. Before Jeonghee and Heeseung were officially together she slept over more times than Jay could count and the way Heeseung went all soft and crazy for their captain's daughter while not making a move (for almost half a season!!!) seems to be a tad worse than Jay's little crush on a random barista. 

Jeonghee rolled her eyes. “About the fact that you look at her like she’s the only person in the room. And don’t even try to deny it. I saw the way you were staring at her in that Instagram story.”

Jake snickered. “It’s painfully obvious, man.”

Sunghoon lifted his head a bit. “If it works out I want credits for being your wingman yesterday.”

Jay groaned, running a hand down his face. “You guys are the worst.”

Jeonghee grinned, unbothered. “Maybe, but we’re also right.”  

The studio was quiet, save for the faint hum of the equipment and the muted sound of the current song playing. You were reviewing your notes for your classes later in the day when your phone vibrated. You picked it up, squinting at the message.

Jay Hey, I’m outside. Do I just ring the bell, or…?

You blinked, rereading the text. Jay? Outside? You glanced at the clock. 7:02 a.m. What was he doing here? 

Y/N Huh? What do you mean?  Where are you? 

The reply came quickly.

Jay In front of the studio. I figured you’d need some coffee.  Should I ring, or can you let me in?

Your heart skipped a beat, and you scrambled to your feet. Slipping on your shoes, you hurried down the narrow hallway to the entrance. Pushing open the door, you were met with the cold morning air and Jay, holding two steaming cups of coffee, looking unfairly cute in his hoodie and a beanie pulled low over his hair.

“Morning,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small smile.

You stood there for a second, slightly stunned. “You-what are you doing here?”

“Morning practice,” he explained, holding up the coffee cups as if that explained everything. “I wanted to stop by. Thought you might need this.”

Your chest warmed, the gesture hitting you harder than you expected. “Jay, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, stepping inside as you held the door open for him.

Closing the door behind him, you led him back to the studio, sitting down by your equipment, still processing his surprise visit.

“You’re seriously the nicest person ever,” you said, taking one of the cups from him. The warmth seeped into your hands, and you cradled it gratefully. “Thank you. Really.”

Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the edge of your desk. “You’ve got a long morning ahead. Thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

You smiled and took a sip of your latte. 

“Are you filming today?” Jay asked, noticing the camera on your desk.

“Uh, kind of,” you admitted. “But uhm don’t worry. I’ll cut you out of the vlog.”

“Oh no worries.”, he said waving into the camera.

You bit your lip, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I just-ugh, I feel so bad about tagging you in that story. My followers were so obnoxious. I’m sorry if they bothered you.”

He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. “They didn’t bother me. It was kind of sweet, in a way? lt was quite an ego boost to now have more followers than Heeseung.”

You ducked your head, your cheeks burning. “Still. I felt bad.”

Jay reached out, his hand brushing yours briefly, a gesture so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. “Don’t. It’s really not a big thing”

You glanced up at him, his warm gaze making your heart race. “If you say so.” you said softly.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, the quiet of the studio wrapping around you like a cocoon.

“You should sit,” you said finally, gesturing to the chair across from yours. “Do you wanna stay for a bit?”

He smiled, settling into the seat. “Sure. I’d love to.”

Jay settled into the chair across from you, his long legs stretched out slightly. 

“So,” you began, fiddling with the edge of your notes. “Do you want to pick a song or something? I mean, since you’re here.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me? Don’t you have a whole playlist planned?”

You shrugged, feeling the familiar warmth creep up your neck. “Yeah, but I can squeeze something in. It’s my show, after all.”

His smile widened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. “You’re giving me creative control?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t make me regret it. No pressure, but pick something good.”

Jay leaned forward, a thoughtful expression on his face as he tapped his fingers lightly against the coffee cup. “Can I recommend a song in Japanese?” he asked, his tone soft.

You froze mid-sip of your coffee. 

“Yes! Of course!” you said, your voice bright and eager.

His lips curled into a small smile, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. 

“Okay,” he said, pulling out his phone. “There’s this song I really likeドライフラワ by Yuuri. Do you know it?”

Your eyes widened, and you practically bounced in your seat. “Are you kidding? I love Yuuri!” you exclaimed, your hands coming together in an excited clap. “His songs are so good, and the storytelling in his music is incredible.”

Jay’s grin widened at your reaction. “Yeah, right? This one’s been stuck in my head lately. The vibes, the lyrics. It’s just so well done.”

You queued up the track immediately. As the music played, you glanced at him, a new thought crossing your mind. “How do you know Your?”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little bashful. “Well, I’ve been studying Japanese for a while. And I love music so I started listening to japanese artists a lot.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you shifted in your chair to face him fully. “Wait, what? You speak Japanese?” Shit. You tried to remember if you ever spoke Japanese around him. Or well if you spoke in Japanese about him AROUND him. 

Jay chuckled, switching seamlessly into Japanese. “Well, I’m not that good, but I’m trying.”

Your face lit up, your smile so wide it practically hurt. You didn’t really get the opportunity to speak Japanese to anyone but your family that often and now Jay was speaking Japanese? “No way! You can really speak it! That’s amazing!”

He laughed softly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Thanks, but I’m not that good.”

You waved a hand dismissively, shaking your head. “Not at all! You sound pretty much fluent!”

He leaned back in his seat, setting his coffee down. “Okay, full disclosure: I actually started learning Japanese because of anime. It’s a little embarrassing, but yeah… anime and a ton of subtitles.”

You blinked at him for a moment before bursting into a soft laugh. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Completely serious,” he admitted, his smile sheepish but endearing. “I’d hear a phrase, look it up, and just… kept going. Then I got hooked on the language.”

You shook your head, still laughing but with a warmth that softened the sound. “I mean, fair. I can’t even judge you because I’ve been studying Korean with K-dramas for years. I even have a little notebook where I’d write down new words while watching.”

Jay’s brows rose in amused surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” you said, “When my parents decided to move here, none of us could speak korean and my brothers and I started watching K-dramas together. Taki and Yudai had to suffer a lot.”

Jay’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as he processed your words. “Wait, hold up. Yudai’s your brother?” he asked again, his tone mixing disbelief with amusement.

You grinned, leaning back in your seat a little.“Yeah, Yudai’s the older one, and Taki is the younger one,” you explained. “You might also know my dad. Professor Koga?”

Jay’s eyebrows shot up even further, and he let out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s kind of crazy. I didn’t realize you were his daughter. I’ve been on the receiving end of his lectures a couple of times” He trailed off, shaking his head with a small chuckle. “He’s intense, man.”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah, he is. Especially when it comes to his work. But when he’s at home, it’s like a totally different person. He’s a softie when it comes to family. Especially to Taki. I swear he never gets scolded for all of the shit he does.”

“I’ll have to remember that if I ever run into him again,” Jay said, looking genuinely impressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him being anything but intense.”

“He is a great dad.”, you said softly smiling. 

You and Jay ended up talking until he was almost late for his morning training session. When Jay finally stood you found yourself reluctant to let him go.

“Thanks for stopping by,” you said as he lingered near the door.

“Thanks for letting me crash your show,” he replied, his voice light but his expression soft.

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, his lips brushing lightly against your cheek. “See you later?”

You swallowed and smiled. “Yeah. See you later.” 

Later turned out to be more than a whole week later. Both of your schedules were so stuffed you couldn’t even grab lunch together. That didn’t stop you from non stop texting though. ​​It was almost ironic how, no matter how chaotic life got, the two of you always ended up crossing paths at parties.

You were minding your own business, questioning all of your life choices while you were watching your friends play drunk jenga. So far Minho had to pick a body part to kiss from the person to his left. Much to his displeasure the person to his left was Changbin who was cackling the whole time. Minho, clearly not thrilled, ended up kissing Changbin's biceps, which, in fairness, wasn't the worst fate. Beomgyu had to strip his shirt and Ryujin had to text her ex ‘I miss you’ but opted out to take the two shots of whatever alcohol they were currently drinking. You would have killed her if she would have texted Mina again. 

You decided to sit this round out. The last time you played, you had to give the person sitting opposite you a lap dance. Lucky for you, it was Lia and the two of you had been laughing the entire time. You hadn’t really known what you were doing, but judging by Chaeryoung’s enthusiastic thumbs up when you finished and the way Intak discreetly pulled a pillow onto his lap, you were pretty sure you’d at least done something right.

But today, Jay was playing too, and there was no way you were even risking the chance of giving him a lap dance. With your luck, that would’ve been your fate. 

Instead, you leaned against the sofa armrest and took the time to not so obviously stare at Jay. He looked absolutely incredible tonight. He was wearing a tight fitted black t-shirt, his arms toned arms were almost screaming your name, paired with several chains. His dark jeans were snug, outlining his legs in a way that had you biting your lip before you could stop yourself. Every time he laughed, his whole face lit up. His smile was so damn attractive it made your heart race and you weren't even tipsy yet. He caught you staring at him more than once, but you just smiled at him and gestured him to focus back on the game. Which lead to him cocking his head to the side and smirking, not breaking eye contact waiting for you to back down.

You had no idea where your newfound confidence was coming from. Maybe it was because, the first time he saw you, he looked like he had just seen a ghost. And when his eyes slowly dragged up and down the tight black mini dress you’d borrowed from Chaeryoung, his ears turned bright red. 

You stood up to get yourself another drink when you bumped into Yudai and Sakura exiting the kitchen.

"Whoa, watch where you're going!" Yudai said with a teasing grin. 

He looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow. "That’s uh, an interesting choice of outfit, huh?" He smirked, crossing his arms. "A little short, don’t you think?"

You rolled your eyes, ready to defend yourself from your brother's overprotectiveness when his girlfriend immediately jumped in: “Yudai, shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She looks hot. Let her live."

Yudai scoffed, not backing down. "I’m just saying, she’s my baby sister, she shouldn’t be wearing stuff like that."

Sakura laughed, nudging Yudai. "She’s not a baby anymore.", she looked back at you, giving you an appreciative once-over. "You look amazing Y/N. You should wear dresses like that more often! It really suits you."

Yudai threw his hands up, playfully frustrated. "I’m just saying, I don't need to see my little sister looking like that."

Before you could respond, you felt a presence behind you, and Jay suddenly appeared, his hand on your elbow. You hadn’t even noticed him approaching, but now he was standing just a bit too close, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, Yudai. Sakura,” Jay greeted, giving them a friendly nod before his gaze flickered down to you. “Y/N.”

Nice. Just nice. Why now Jay. He had the whole evening to approach you. Why infront of Yudai? 

You felt your cheeks flush instantly, the heat creeping up. You hoped your foundation was holding up because, knowing Sakura, she could probably see right through your flustered expression. Sure enough, she shot you a pointed look, a grin tugging at her lips. 

“The others are going outside to play a round of beer pong, do you wanna come along?”, he asked, his focus solely on you. 

You smiled at him and tried to ignore how your brother was mustering Jay. “Sure. I’ll come outside in just a second.” 

He nodded and grinned at you: “Perfect, I’ll see you there.” And then he leaned forward, giving you a chaste cheek on your cheek. Your heart stopped for a second and then started beating so fast, you were sure if someone was to watch your chest they would see the rapid movements. He nodded at Yudai and Sakura and turned around.

The moment he left, you sighed and turned back to face your brother and his girlfriend. You knew exactly what was coming next.

“Not a word,” you said, your voice flat, glaring at them both.

Yudai gave you a knowing smirk, clearly not buying it. “Oh, come on. Y/Nie.”

Sakura wasn’t helping either. She snickered, leaning closer to you with an overly sweet smile. “I didn’t know you and Jay were a thing.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you took a deep breath. “We’re just... friends.”

Yudai raised an eyebrow. “Friends, huh? You sure blush a lot for just being friends.”

Your brain scrambled for a way out of this conversation. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen like you might just vanish in that direction.

Sakura leaned back, her grin widening. “Please, Y/N. Don’t even try.”

Your words started coming out in a jumbled mess. "I-what-no! Stop it!” you spluttered, praying for divine intervention. Someone. Anyone. Help. “We are just friends. Jay is way out of my league. You are imagining things.” Like the kiss they just saw. Maybe you were hallucinating that? 

Sakura snorted and nudged your arm. “You are not out of his league. And, honestly, it’s obvious Jay likes you too. He kissed your cheek Y/N.” Okay, not a hallucination then. 

You whined, shaking your head. “Stop! This is so embarrassing. I’m leaving. Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day!”

Before either of them could respond, you spun on your heel and headed for the back door, determined to escape their relentless teasing. 

You found your friends pretty quickly. The hockey frats house was a bit off campus and had a gigantic yard with a pool and enough space for three beer pong tables lined next to each other. When you reached the tables you leaned into Chaeryoung, who was talking to Lia. “Please, please kill me.”

Chaeryoung laughed and petted your hair. "What's up Y/N?”

“Yudai and Sakura just saw me and Jay. I had to escape just now.”

Lia leaned in. “Why what did Jay do?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Please don’t make me relive this. I’m already mortified. Jay kissed my cheek, Yudai went full big-brother mode, and Sakura was just egging him on, calling me out for crushing on him.”

Lia laughed, crossing her arms. “Well, to be fair, you do have a massive crush on him.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, glaring at her.

Chaeryoung shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re hopeless, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, a voice startled the three of you from behind.“Y/N! ”

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around to look directly into Jay’s face, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a beer bottle. 

Chaeryoung raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a laugh. “Speak of the devil.”

You shot them both a withering look but turned to make your way over. As you approached, Jay’s smile widened just slightly, his gaze softening.

“Would you like to play against Hee and Jake?” he asked, his tone light.

You nodded, trying to play it cool despite the way your heart was racing. “Sure. But if we lose, it’s all your fault.”

Jay chuckled, stepping aside to let you take your spot by the table. “Deal. We’re not going to lose.”

The two of you slipped into an easy rhythm. By the time you sank the last shot, your opponents were groaning in defeat, and Jay gave you a triumphant high-five.

“Told you,” he said, grinning. “We make a great team.”

You laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. “I never denied that. You are actually not terrible at this.”

Jay tilted his head, mock-offended. “Not terrible? That’s the best compliment I’m getting?”

“Take it or leave it,” you teased, your smile widening.

After the game, the two of you decided to take a break, grabbing fresh drinks before finding a quiet spot to just relax for a second.

The two settled onto a bench near the pool, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself as you glanced at the scene in front of you. Jay sat down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body beside you. 

You tilted your head back to look at the stars, the coolness of the evening air brushing against your face. You could hear Jay breathing beside you, and after a moment, he turned his head slightly to look at you. You turned to meet his eyes.

“I’m glad we’re out here,” you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the breeze. “It’s nice.”

Jay nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah, it’s a lot better than being stuck inside.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. You closed your eyes for a second, just letting the calmness of the evening settle over you. You had morning classes and a hosting session behind you, and the exhaustion was finally catching up.

After a moment, Jay shifted slightly, his voice low. “How drunk are you?”

“Just a bit tipsy,” you admitted with a soft chuckle. “Not nearly as tipsy as last time though. Don’t worry.”

“Mhm you were pretty cute last week. I am not sure how you were handling the amount of shots you had that well, but Jake was feeling way worse than you did.”, he chuckled.

You blushed a bit as you turned to him, the soft glow of the pool lights reflecting in his eyes.

 “Well, Jake’s a lightweight,” you said with a playful shrug. “But I’m also not usually one to go that hard. Guess I just felt comfortable last time.”

Jay’s smile widened. “Comfortable, huh?”

You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder. “Maybe. Don’t let it go to your head.”

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I won’t, but. I’m glad. I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

You glanced down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your dress, before daring to meet his gaze again. “I do. You make it easy.”

His eyes softened. “Good. That means a lot to me.”

Jay’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression thoughtful and gentle. The soft glow of the pool lights danced in his eyes, and you felt your heart thrum in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t control.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to him, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah?”

He hesitated.“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Of course. Shoot.”

Jay’s lips curled into a soft smile, and he leaned just a fraction closer, his voice low and steady. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Your cheeks warmed, your heart racing as his question settled over you. You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice.

Jay smiled, a small, relieved exhale escaping him. He lifted his hand, the touch of his fingers feather-light as they brushed your cheek, tilting your face gently toward him. He leaned in, his movements slow, giving you every chance to pull away. You didn’t. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes, afraid that if you did, he would disappear in front of your eyes.

Jay’s gaze searched yours for another heartbeat before his lips finally met yours. 

His lips were warm, soft, and faintly flavored with the Malibu you’d both stolen earlier. You sighed into the kiss, your hand sliding up his back, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair. He shivered under your touch, and the quiet sound he made against your lips sent a thrill down your spine.

Jay’s hand cradled your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone as the kiss deepened. He angled his head slightly, his lips parting just enough for his tongue to brush against yours in a tentative, teasing motion. The sensation sent a wave of heat through you, and you instinctively leaned closer, your grip tightening in his hair as his free hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss grew bolder, his lips molding perfectly to yours as his tongue explored in slow, deliberate movements that left you breathless. You let out a soft, involuntary sigh, and he answered with a low hum that you felt resonate through your chest.

When you both finally pulled back his forehead came to rest against yours, both of you catching your breath. His eyes fluttered open, warm and dark in the soft glow of the party lights.

Jay broke the silence, his voice a whisper. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile, your forehead still pressed to his. “Me too,” you murmured, your voice barely above a breath. You carefully leaned forward again, reconnecting your lips. He hummed into the kiss and pulled you into his lap, but before anything else could happen a sharp voice rang out behind you, starling the both of you: “Y/N?”

You and Jay jumped apart, nearly tumbling off the bench as you scrambled to straighten up. You turned quickly, your breath caught in your throat. Standing there, a little unsteady on his feet, was Han. His face was flushed, his expression angry.

“Han?” you said cautiously.

Han’s gaze flicked from you to Jay, narrowing in irritation. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his voice louder than you are used to.

Jay stood up, his posture stiffening, concern flashing across his face.

"Han," you started, trying to steady your voice, “calm down please.”

But Han didn’t listen. His chest heaved with every breath, his eyes locked onto Jay with nothing but fury. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing, Jay. You think she’s just some game to you?” Han’s voice cracked, but he didn’t stop. "You have no right to mess with her like this."

You watched as Jay instinctively stepped in front of you, his posture defensive. His eyes remained locked on Han, while his hands reached out to push you further behind his body.

"Stay the hell away from her!" Han barked, his voice full of venom. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew I—” He hesitated for just a moment, then his eyes flared. “You knew I liked her. And you still just swooped in, didn't you? You think you can have everything, right?”

What? 

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting. Your chest tightened. 

He came closer to the two of you, stumbling a bit. “You think you are better than me, Jay? You think you can just come in and convince her to like you?”

Han liked you. 

Your throat was closing up and your mind started reeling.  Han, your best friend, the one person who had been there for you through thick and thin, the person who always understood you in ways no one else did, he had feelings for you. Feelings that went beyond friendship. 

“Han, stop! You- you don’t mean all of this” you finally managed, your voice shaky but loud enough to be heard. "You’re drunk, and you need to calm down."

But Han didn’t listen. His glare that until just now was firmly on Jay, wandered to you. 

“And now you’re defending him?” Han sneered, his tone laced with contempt. “Look at you, Y/N. All you ever wanted was a chance to get close to him. You're so desperate to get into his world that you'll let him use you. You think I don’t see it?”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't understand what was happening, but before you could even think of something to say he already continued.

“Jay's nothing but a rich kid with a pretty face and you’re just another one of his stupid stories,” Han spat, shaking his head as if the sight of you hurt him. "You’re wearing that dress for him, aren’t you? You want him to notice you, to think you’re hot.”

The words hit like a punch, leaving you breathless, your chest tightening in hurt. How could he say that? How could he turn on you like this, after everything you’d shared? It felt like he was ripping apart everything you’d ever believed in.  It was too much. You could feel the tears starting to sting your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You were too angry, too confused, too hurt.

Jay stepped forward then, his jaw tight with anger. “Don’t talk to her like that,” he said, his voice low but filled with authority. “You’re completely out of line, Han.”

But Han wasn’t backing down. His eyes flickered between you and Jay, a mix of anger, betrayal, and something else you couldn’t even begin to understand. As Han’s words continued to lash out, it felt like they were pushing you farther away from him with every sentence. His anger was a torrent, and you were caught in the middle of it, struggling to catch your breath.

“You’re better than this, Y/N!” Han shouted, voice cracking with emotion, and his eyes locked on you, filled with something you couldn't place. “I am so disappointed in you.”

You blinked and took a step backwards. Disappointed? Why was he disappointed in you? Was he angry because you had feelings for someone else? Because you were making your own choices?

“Enough, Han,” Jay said, his voice steady. “You need to stop.”

But Han didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his eyes filled with something unreadable, and in that moment, you knew that no matter what you said now, nothing would change what had just happened.

“Do you think this is worth it?” Han spat, his hands trembling with barely contained rage. “You’re worth more than this. More than him. You’re better than this whole situation, and I don’t get why you’re throwing yourself into it like this!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could find the words, Jay’s hand slid into yours, gently but firmly intertwining your fingers.  Han’s eyes snapped to Jay’s hand, his jaw clenching, his entire posture bracing as if he were about to snap. For a brief, heart-stopping second, you thought he might lash out, his anger bubbling over into something physical. But before anything else could happen you heard the sound of heavy footsteps and within moments, Minho and Bang Chan appeared, their eyes quickly scanning the situation. They took in the scene: Han standing there, furious and shaking with rage, Jay essentially hiding you behind his back, your hands intertwined. Minho didn’t hesitate for a second. His eyes locked onto Han, his voice calm but sharp. “Jisung. Enough.”

Bang Chan stepped forward too. “You need to back off. This isn’t the time for this.”

Han turned towards them, fists clenched, his breath ragged as he fought to keep his composure. His eyes darted between Minho and Jay, but neither of them flinched. They were standing firm, not backing down.

“You’re not helping, Minho,” Han spat, his voice low but seething with anger. “You don’t know what’s going on here. You don’t understand how much this matters.”

Minho took a step closer, not intimidated by Han’s rage. “I have heard enough Jisung. You are crossing a line.”

Han’s gaze shifted back to you, his expression flickering between frustration and something else. Something that looked like regret.

“You deserve so much more than this, Y/N. You deserve better than him,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, but still tinged with raw emotion.

You shook your head slowly, trying to make sense of his words. “No, Han,” you whispered, your voice wavering but firm. “You’re wrong. You don’t get to tell me what I deserve or who I should be with.”

Han opened his mouth to argue, but Minho stepped in again, his voice cutting through the tension. “This needs to stop, now.”

With that, Han’s shoulders slumped, his anger finally giving way to exhaustion. He looked defeated. Your heart ached for him. You loved Han. Just not the way he did. 

Bang Chan nodded to Jay, signaling for him to take a step back with you. Jay’s grip on your hand tightened just slightly as he gave your hand a gentle tug.

Before either of you could get too far, Minho spoke again, his voice softer now. “Go. We’ll handle this.”

Jay didn’t hesitate, pulling you along with him, away from the confrontation. You didn’t look back at Han. You couldn’t. Not now, not after everything that had been said. The two of you walked quickly. Jay’s hand tightened around yours as he glanced back at you. Your mind was reeling and you felt a mix of emotions, from anger to confusion to sadness, and you couldn’t figure out how to make sense of any of it. Jay led you out of the party, walking past your friends and towards the main door. 

Once you finally reached a quiet spot away from the house, you stopped, trying to catch your breath. You pulled your hand from Jay’s and looked up into the sky, trying to stop your tears and pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from wobbling.

“I’m so sorry about all of this,” Jay said quietly, his voice filled with regret.

You barely nodded, too shaken to speak, and when you finally looked at Jay the tears that you had been holding back spilled over, and you could feel them streaking down your face as your chest tightened. “I trusted him,” you whispered to Jay. “I thought he is my best friend. How could he say that to me?”

Jay stepped closer, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away a tear. "I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You didn’t deserve any of it."

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. That only resulted in your tears coming harder now. How could Han say that? You couldn’t stop asking yourself that question.

“I just... I don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “He’s my best friend, Jay. He’s always been there for me, and now he’s... he’s saying these things. Like I’m some-” You choked on your words, the hurt too much to contain.

Jay’s hand stayed on your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over the skin. 

“He’s just angry and confused,” he said softly, his voice calm. “But that doesn’t excuse what he said. And it doesn’t change what you mean to me.” His eyes met yours, a steady, reassuring gaze. "You are so pretty, so clever, so kind. I can’t take my eyes off of you whenever I see you. I love hearing your laugh, I love to see you laugh. And I know you feel at least somewhat similar to how i feel about me. And you are not using me for anything."

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, staring at him.

He continued, his gaze not wavering, “You’re so strong, and passionate. You care so much about the people in your life.”

“Why does this have to be so complicated?” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

Jay’s lips parted, but before he could say anything, you found yourself stepping forward, your body instinctively seeking his closeness. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace, and you felt a small weight lift from your chest as his warmth surrounded you. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” Jay whispered against your hair, his voice soft and soothing. “Don’t blame yourself for this. Han’s confused, and drunk.”

Your tears slowed. You nodded against his chest, letting yourself just breathe, allowing the silence to envelop you for a moment longer.

After a few moments, Jay pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. “Do you want to go back inside, or do you need a little more time?”

You hesitated, glancing back toward the house. The sounds of the party still buzzed in the distance. You didn’t know what to do with all of the emotions swirling inside, but you knew one thing: You didn’t want to face Han again right now.

“I think I want to go home,” you said softly, your voice steadying just a little bit. 

Jay gave you a small, comforting smile, his hands still resting on your arms. “Let’s get you home Y/N.”

The walk to your flat was slow and silent. When you reached your apartment, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. Jay followed you, crouching down to greet Gracie. 

Wordlessly, you made your way to the living room, sinking down onto the couch. You pressed the palms of your hands into your face, letting out a long, shaky breath.

Jay didn’t follow you, but walked into the kitchen. He came to the living room, sitting down beside you on the couch.

 “Here,” he said gently, handing you the glass. “You should drink something.”

You took the glass with a nod, sipping slowly. The cool water felt good against your dry throat, and for a moment, you let the quietness between the two of you settle.

Jay’s voice broke the silence after a while, soft and coaxing. “Hey, maybe you should get ready for bed? You’ve had a long day.”

You met his gaze for a moment, then looked down. “Yeah, you’re right,” you said quietly, setting the empty glass down on the table.

“I’ll wait here,” Jay said with a small smile, petting Gracie, who had curled up next to him, “Take your time.”

You gave him a brief nod and walked toward the bathroom. The sound of the water running as you washed your face was a small, soothing comfort as you tried to shake off the lingering tension in your body. When you finished washing your face, you slipped Chaeyoungs dress over your head, tossing it into a corner and grabbing your pajama. 

When you emerged from the bathroom, Jay was still sitting on the couch, Gracie snuggled up beside him. You felt a small flicker of warmth in your chest at the sight of them. You walked over and sat down next to him, letting out a soft sigh as you settled your head onto his shoulder.

Jay looked down at you, a faint smile on his lips. "You okay?"

You didn’t respond immediately, just nestled in closer, closing your eyes for a moment.

After a few seconds, you spoke, your voice soft. “Stay, Jay. Please.”

His hand rested on top of yours. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

With that you felt another tear rolling down your cheek and your breath started hitching. You buried your face in Jays shoulder and he maneuvered you into his lap, carefully caressing your back but not saying anything. He let you just silently cry for a while.

After a long moment, his voice broke the stillness, soft and careful. “Do you want to go to bed?”

You nodded, still resting your head on his chest.  He didn’t rush you, just helped you gently up from the couch, guiding you with a tenderness that made your chest ache a little less.

When you reached your bedroom, Jay watched you as you wiped away the last of your tears, your skin still flushed. You stepped forward, pulling a set of clothes from a drawer. “Here,” you said quietly, holding them out to him. “These should be more comfortable.”

Jay accepted the clothes with a quiet nod. "Thanks," he murmured.

A small laugh escaped you as you sniffled. “It’s Niki’s,” you explained with a weak smile. “But he’s at least two meters tall, so I think you’ll fit in it just fine. Taki and he love to crash here so they have their own drawer.”

Jay chuckled softly, the sound soothing to your frazzled mind. 

You watched him as he turned toward the bathroom to change. When he returned, you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of him in the oversized PJs.

You both settled into the bed, Jay sliding in beside you carefully, keeping a respectful distance. You moved closer to him and put your head onto his chest. His arm gently wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.  You could hear his steady breathing, feel the calmness in the air, and it lulled you in. Slowly, the tension in your body started to loosen. His steady presence next to you, the soft caresses in your hair, and the rhythm of his breathing were enough to quiet the storm inside your head. You let your eyes flutter shut.

The soft morning light filtered through the beige curtains in your bedroom, casting a gentle glow over the room. Jay blinked awake slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. 

You slightly shifted in your sleep, still tucked close to him, your head resting on his chest, your legs tangled with his. Your steady breaths warmed the fabric of his shirt. To his side, Gracie purred quietly, curled into the space between his ribs and one of the pillows on your bed. Jay absently rubbed a hand over her fur as his mind wandered back to the night before.

What the hell had happened?

Han’s voice echoed in his head, sharp and angry. Jay could still see the hurt in your eyes, the way your voice had cracked when you told him you trusted Han. He hated that you’d been put in that position, hated that someone who was supposed to care about you had caused you so much pain.

Jay let out a quiet breath, careful not to disturb you. Gently, he shifted beneath you, and though you stirred slightly again, your fingers clinging to his shirt for a moment, you didn’t wake up. He took a second to study you. Your hair was spread like a halo across the pillow, the soft curls from the evening before now almost completely gone. Jay’s fingers brushed softly over your cheek. His heart ached at the slight puffiness around your eyes.  His stomach growled softly, snapping him out of the moment. Slowly, he slipped out of bed, pausing to make sure he didn’t wake you up. You shifted slightly in your sleep, but the soft rise and fall of your chest remained steady. Jay watched for a moment longer before heading out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

He walked into the living room, taking in the quiet stillness of your space. Your jackets were still haphazardly thrown over the back of the sofa. Jay reached out, carefully hanging them back up by the door before moving to the coffee table to pick up the empty glass of water you’d left behind. He glanced down at his phone, still resting on the sofa cushion.

He sighed, unlocking it to find a barrage of messages waiting for him. 

Puckin’ Legends and Sunghoon Heeseung hyung Did you get home okay? Jake Is Y/N alright? Jonghee told us what happened  Hoon Dude, answer us.  I am starting to get really worried Jay Y/N is sleeping right now Fucking hell I’ll update you when i am home later

There were also messages from Chaeryoung and several of your friends, asking similar questions. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen.

He decided to at least answer Chaeryoung, telling her that you were okay right now and that she should call you later.

He stared at the messages from Felix. 

Felix (DA swim) Jay i am so sorry for what happened yesterday We lost Han and he found the two of you before we did I know you went home with Y/N Please take care of her. She is going to pretend everything is fine. Don’t let her. Make her talk to you, please. I'll make sure Han won’t text her, tell her to take all the time she needs. And for the record, i am really happy for the two of you. 

After a moment’s deliberation, he decided against responding for now, slipping his phone into his pocket and heading into the kitchen.

Jay stood in front of your fridge, scanning its content for something useful. He found eggs, a few vegetables and some microwavable rice. It wasn’t much to work with, but it would do. He reached for a chopping board and a frying pan, deciding on egg fried rice.

The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board was oddly calming. After a while he heard your bedroom door creaking open quietly and the soft shuffle of feet behind him.

Jay turned slightly, but before he could say anything, you pressed your face into the space between his shoulders, your arms sliding around his waist. He froze for a second but let his body relax, molding into your hug. He rested his hands over yours where they curled against his stomach. “Morning,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly to look at you.

“Morning,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against him.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, or well moved your head in something that felt like a shake of your head against his back. “No,” you murmured

Jay hummed and resumed chopping vegetables, the soft thud of the knife against the cutting board filling the stillness of the kitchen. Your arms stayed loosely wrapped around him, your forehead resting between his shoulder blades. 

A soft meow broke the stillness, drawing both of your gazes toward the kitchen doorway. Gracie padded into the kitchen, stretching lazily before meowing at the cabinet where her food was kept. You rubbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie before moving to get her some food, your movements slow and unhurried. If it wasn’t for what happened yesterday, Jay would have loved the domestic atmosphere of the situation. 

He glanced at you as you moved to the cabinet. You’d changed into an oversized hoodie with the initials DA Swimming Team printed across the back. It hung loosely on you, the sleeves slightly too long. As you crouched to pour Gracie’s food, Jay’s thoughts drifted. Maybe he should text Yudai. He didn’t really know what to say, but you seemed to be quite close to your brothers so their comfort may be better than anything he could give you. 

Your phone started buzzing from the sofa table, faint and insistent you seemed to not hear it. 

Jay hesitated. “Your phone’s going off,” he said softly, glancing toward the living room.

“Ignore it,” you replied, your voice quiet and flat. You poured a glass of water, sipping it slowly as your gaze lingered on the counter.

Jay didn’t press. He turned back to the stove, stirring the rice and vegetables. Normally, cooking brought him a kind of peace, but now, every sound, the sizzle of the pan, the scrape of the spoon, felt too loud. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you walking towards the living room, shutting off your alarm. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he finished cooking in silence, the aroma of fried rice filling the room. You wordlessly started decking the table while Jay slid the food onto plates.

As you sat down across from him, the silence lingered. Neither of you had the energy to fill it, and for now, that was okay. Jay would wait. For now, he’d let you have the space you needed, even if it meant sitting across from each other in silence.

Jay left when it was already dark. The two of you spend the rest of the day curled up in your bed watching Howl's moving castle, eating the leftover fried rice from your breakfast.  He was so soft and caring all day and you felt so bad for making him do all of this. You didn’t want to seem like a charity case he had to care for. 

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Your thoughts wandered back to the last 24 hours. How could everything have gone so wrong. One moment you were kissing Jay, his lips so soft and gentle on yours and the next your childhood best friend accuses you of essentially being a puck bunny after he confessed and you didn't reciprocate his feelings? And then he dared to claim he was disappointed in you? 

You sighed again, louder this time, and threw yourself back against the pillow, your arms flung wide. Why did it have to be so hard?  You reached for your phone, ignoring all of your notifications that accumulated over the day. You unlocked it and typed a quick message to Jaemin. 

Can you take over my shift at the café tomorrow? I am not feeling too well :( 

You hesitated for a moment before hitting send, then set the phone aside and buried your face in the pillow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, you will deal with it all. 

You were good at pretending.

Or at least, you were trying to be.

After you took a day for yourself, not leaving bed and only replying to Chae, Jay and your brothers you decided to get back on track. 

You went to the station, delivered your segments with faked enthusiasm, your voice steady even when your hands trembled.

You went to your classes, tried to pay attention, tried to focus on the words the professors were saying. 

You went to the creek, smiled and served customers.

You even stayed on track with your usual posting schedule, posting a book review about a childhood friends-to-lovers book. It was ironic, really.

Almost two weeks have passed since the party and your backlog of pre-recorded videos was running dry. You haven’t had the motivation to film anything, your latest update on any social media platform being that book review from a week ago. 

You clicked "publish" for your last pre recorded and cut video, a monthly recap vlog and sighed. 

You were exhausted. It was easier to keep moving, to keep working, than to face the truth. You couldn’t afford to stop, to let everything sink in. You needed to act like nothing had changed.

Around your friends, you acted like nothing had changed. You smiled through your shifts at the café, laughed at jokes you didn’t find funny, and acted like everything was alright. They asked how you were doing, and you gave them your best reassuring smile.

You don’t think they believed a single word you said. They knew something was off. Obviously. You haven’t seen Han since that night, but you know that Felix was taking care of him. You knew that Jay was giving him updates on how you were feeling. Felix and the others tried to reach out, telling you that they were sorry, they didn’t stop, telling you to not feel bad, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer them. Not yet.

You loved spending time with Jay. 

His schedule was always packed with practices and games, but whenever he had a free moment, Jay would find a way to drop by the café or send you a quick text asking if you wanted to grab a bite. It was never anything extravagant, just small, quiet moments together between his and your hectic schedule. 

You hadn’t really talked about what you were or where things stood between the two of you. It was an unspoken thing that hung between you, something both of you hadn’t fully addressed. But you weren’t in any rush. In a way, it felt comfortable this way. No pressure, no expectations. Just being around each other when you could, enjoying the small, sweet moments without overthinking it. You liked it. You liked him. Maybe it wasn’t official, and maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but for now, that was okay. You were content with how things were, with how he made you feel. You started to get more comfortable around the rink too. Sometimes, after his practices, Jay would invite you to watch his team scrimmage or just hang out in the stands while the guys warmed up. You still didn’t know much about hockey, but that didn’t matter. You were just enjoying your time in the rink, away from all of the chaos. You grew quite close to Jeonghee, the social media manager of the team, since you spend a lot of time in her office. You taught her quite a few handy tips and tricks for editing videos and she claims that you were the best thing that happened to the hockey team. She invited you over to Jays flat more often than he did himself, claiming she needed some female support when dealing with her boyfriend and his roommates, which includes your (almost?) boyfriend, aswell. 

It was almost like a ritual. You’d sit in the stands talking or recording something with Jonghee, him glancing over to see you there between drills, his eyes lighting up when he caught your gaze. And afterward, the two would end up in either your or his apartment. 

Jay stood under the hot stream of water, the pressure of it soothing his tired muscles. His mind raced in a whirl of thoughts. His coach was relentless the past few training sessions, always pushing him and his teammates to the limit, after they lost the last two games. They had to win the game against Merrimak today. They had to. 

He signed and finished his shower a few minutes after, grabbing a towel to dry himself. As he did, he noticed his toiletries, his shampoo, conditioner, and a few other things, scattered neatly around your bathroom. He smiled softly to himself. 

He walked back into the bedroom, wearing a new set of boxers and nothing else. You were still asleep on your bed, your soft breathing barely audible in the quiet room. He reached out, running his fingers lightly across your cheek, brushing aside a few stray strands of hair that had fallen across your face. Jay stayed there for a moment, just watching you.

He loved being with you, more than he could put into words. He loved your little quirks and habits, he loved the way he felt when he spend time with you, how well you fitted in with his friends. But he couldn’t help the weight that settled in his chest every time he thought about how things had unfolded. He hated the circumstances that had led to this, the fight with Han, the fallout, the awkward silences and lingering tension between you and your friends. It wasn’t how he wanted this to start.

His jaw clenched as he thought about Han. He knew his anger wasn’t entirely fair, feelings weren’t something you could control, but that didn’t stop him from resenting the way Han had approached everything. Confessing to you like that, knowing you didn’t feel the same, had set off a chain of events that neither of you deserved.

You stirred slightly, your face scrunching up in that adorable way it always did when you were just waking up. Jay smiled down at you, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

As your eyes fluttered open, he whispered, “Morning.”

Jay couldn’t resist leaning down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back slightly, his gaze tracing the features of your face as you slowly woke. You looked up at him, your eyes soft and a little dazed, and his heart stuttered in his chest.

He leaned in again, this time capturing your lips in a slow kiss. The softness of your lips against his was enough to make his head spin. When you responded, by pulling him closer with a hand on his shoulder, he let out a quiet, satisfied hum, his hand slipping from your cheek to your waist.

The oversized shirt you wore had ridden up slightly, and the feel of your bare skin under his fingertips made his pulse quicken. His lips moved against yours with a growing intensity, and when you sighed softly into the kiss, he felt heat pool low in his stomach.

Your cold fingers trailed along his still damp chest and he couldn’t suppress the sharp inhale that followed. The sensation sent shivers racing down his spine, and he instinctively shifted closer, deepening the kiss. As you arched into him, your hips brushing against his in a way that made his breath hitch, Jay felt his self-control slipping.

He broke the kiss just enough to lay you back gently against the bed, hovering above you as his lips found your jawline. He pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, savoring the way you shivered beneath him.

“Jay…” you breathed, his name leaving your lips in a way that made every nerve in his body hum.

“Yeah?” he whispered, his voice low and rough as his hand slid up your thigh, his palm pressing lightly against your skin before settling at your hip.

You didn’t answer, instead pulling him back to you, capturing his lips with yours.

Your hand trailed up to the nape of his neck, tangling in his damp hair, slightly pulling at the strands. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating between you as his hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing along your side. You whined against his lips, your hips bucking up slightly, meeting his crotch. The sensation sent a rush of heat through him, and his grip on your waist tightened instinctively. His lips trailed back to your neck, where he left slow, lingering kisses, savoring the soft gasps that escaped you.

As his hand drifted higher beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing the edge of your ribs, his alarm cut through the quiet, shrill and unrelenting.

Jay froze, his forehead dropping to your shoulder with a groan of frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, reaching over to silence it with an annoyed swipe.

You laughed softly, your chest still rising and falling rapidly against his. He looked down at you, the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips making it almost impossible to pull away.

He leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time.

“We’ll pick this up later,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, before reluctantly rolling away, the lingering warmth of your body making him already crave more.

Every fiber of him wanted to stay, feel your lips on his, feel your body on his. But he also really didn’t want to be late for a game day. CC was already mad at him. He didn’t know for what, probably for breathing too loud into his direction or something similarly trivial. He was still praying for Heeseung, having CC as his, well almost, father in law seemed like hell. 

Jay stood up with a sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. He moved toward his bag, which rested against the side of the bed, fishing out a fresh T-shirt for the day. His frustration deepened as his body refused to cooperate with his rational thoughts. The heat of your kiss, the way you’d clung to him, your soft gasps, all of it played on a loop in his mind, making it nearly impossible to focus. He clenched his jaw, trying to will his body into submission. Hockey drills.  Push-ups.  Coach Choi yelling about bad passes.  Just Coach Choi.  Maybe Coach Choi naked?

He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head slightly as he grabbed his jeans.Trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of restricting his hard on.

“What the hell,” you muttered, the confusion in your tone pulling his attention instantly.

Jay watched as the confusion on your face morphed into a frown, your lips pressing into a thin line.

“Y/N?” he asked softly.

Your frown deepened as you scrolled through your notifications. “I…I don’t know what happened. It’s…they… the comments.” you said quietly.

Jay’s jaw tightened as he leaned over to glance at your screen. Comment after comment, calling you a slut, a gold digger, and worse. “The fuck…” he muttered under his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the heat rising in his neck. His eyes scanned the hateful remarks, his stomach sinking with every word he saw.

“He could’ve had anyone, but he chose a girl like that? I can’t believe he’s that dumb. Jay deserves better than her, honestly.”“He deserves better than this. Just look at her.”“Stay away from my man, you’re ruining his image.”

"What does Jay even see in her? She’s not even pretty enough to be with someone like him."

"She’s not even his type. It’s obvious she’s just using him for clout."

His breath quickened as his gaze flicked back to you. Your face was pale, your eyes wide with confusion and shock. His earlier frustration from the alarm morphed into pure, unfiltered anger. His hands clenched at his sides.

You flipped between your accounts, your fingers trembling. "What the hell is wrong with people?" You muttered, scrolling past endless hate, barely acknowledging the kind comments that were hidden beneath the sea of hate.

Without thinking, he reached for your phone, gently but firmly taking it from your hands. His jaw clenched harder, his pulse hammering in his ears. He set it down on the bed, his heart aching as he looked at you and cupped your face in his hands. “Hey,” he said softly, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “Don’t look at it.” 

“Shit,” you muttered, biting your lip in frustration. “Why are they doing this, Jay? How do they even know about us?” You sighed deeply, your shoulders slumping. “I am so sorry Jay. I never wanted to drag you into the mess my life is. This is all my fault”

“No, it’s not,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “This is on them, not you. Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do.”, he paused for a second, “You didn’t drag me into anything, Y/N,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering. “I’m here because I want to be. This is on me too.”

Your lips quivered as you met his eyes. “But they’re saying such horrible things. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” Jay felt a wave of frustration rise in him, but he held it back, focusing instead on reassuring her. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. People hate on any and everything.” “I know,” you whispered, still trying to hold yourself together. “But they’re everywhere. And some of them are even saying stuff about your career.” Jay took a deep breath, his expression softening. He gently tilted your head so your gazes locked, his thumb brushing the skin under your eyes. “Y/N,” he said, his voice serious, “I don’t care. I am signed with the eagles. If I call Namjoon he will for sure understand that you have done nothing to deserve this and there won’t be any consequences. Don’t worry about me.” You sighed deeply, sitting up as you glanced at him, your face pale. “I should’ve been more careful with what I posted.” you said softly, your voice laced with regret.  “You should turn off your comments on your posts. Or privatize them. It’s just... it’s too much. You don’t need this.” “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low but firm, “I won’t delete any pictures. I’m proud of them. Proud of us. I’m happy to have you here, with me. You don’t need to apologize for any of this.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he stopped you by leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours. You stiffened for a second, then melted into it, your hands sliding to his shoulders as you kissed him back.

When you broke apart, he held you close, his hands still gently cradling your face. “I won’t delete them, Y/N,” he repeated, his voice steady. You held your breath for a second, considering his words. “But they’re... they’re being so cruel.” “They don’t matter,” he said firmly, kissing your forehead before standing up. “They can say whatever they want. I like you Y/N. Hell I even might love you. I love being there for you.  And if that means dealing with some crap along the way? So be it. I’m not going anywhere.” You didn’t say anything for a moment, your eyes searching his face. And then, finally, you nodded, your shoulders relaxing a little. Oh lord.  He said the L word.  Or well almost.  A month after the two of you started dating. His heart was racing waiting for your answer.  “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try. I just don’t want to hurt you.” “You’re not,” he said, smiling softly. “You’re not hurting me, Y/N. I’ll handle it. We’ll handle it.”  His heart clenched when you didn’t say it back. But it was fine. He also didn’t really say ‘i love you’. If he was going to say those three words he will do it properly.  You gave him a small, grateful smile before looking down at your phone again. “I’ll turn off my notifications,” you said quietly, tapping the screen to go into your settings. He hummed and pressed a kiss onto your head again. “Turn your phone off completely.I’ll think of a way to deal with this.” You sniffed and followed his instructions, turning your phone off.  “I’ll see you when I get back, okay baby?” he said, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. You nodded, your eyes following him with a mixture of longing and sadness. “Okay,” you whispered, “Go kick Riverfields arse.” He smiled. “Of course.” 

Jay’s fingers tightened around his phone as he scrolled through a flood of notifications, his stomach sinking with every word he saw. His vision blurred slightly, not from the tears threatening to rise, but from the sheer intensity of the anger and frustration that kept bubbling up with each new comment. He figured out the hate came from his “fans”. Disliking him having a girlfriend. Apparently that gave them the right to hate on you and him as well, commenting on his recent instagram photo dump about how he should not be with you, how you are just together with him for his fame.  He scrolled to the top of his instagram account page. 26.515 followers.  Most of them only followed him after you posted pictures tagging him.  The worst part? It wasn’t just his account. It was spilling over onto his father’s business page too. His blood ran cold as he read the comments infecting the companies page and his fathers personal account as well. Why drag his family into this? He hadn’t even had the chance to tell his parents personally that he was seeing you seriously. He ran a hand through his hair, his chest tightening.  “Yo, Jay.” Jake nudged his arm from the seat next to him, lowering his voice to avoid catching the attention of the others. “You good, man? You’ve been glued to your phone the whole ride.” Jay forced a tight smile, barely looking up. “I’m fine. Just dealing with some… stuff.” Jake frowned, unconvinced, but nodded, deciding to drop it for now. “Alright. Can you forget about that stuff when we are on the ice later? We need you focused." “Yeah. Sure.” Jay muttered, already zoning out again. The bus pulled into the rink parking lot, and as the team shuffled off, Jay hung back, letting everyone else move ahead while he stayed by the bus for a moment. He glanced at his phone one last time, taking a deep breath before dialing his dad’s number.

“Son,” his dad’s familiar voice greeted him, warm but gentle, like always. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the game right now? Your mom and I are trying to watch a live stream of it later.” Jay hesitated, his grip on the phone tightening. “Yeah, I know. I just… I need to talk to you about something first." There was a pause on the other end. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?” Jay let out a slow breath, his free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Sort of. It’s about… someone." “Someone?” his dad asked, the slightest note of curiosity creeping into his voice. “Go on.” “There’s this girl,” Jay began, the words awkward and halting as he tried to piece them together. “Her name’s Y/N, and we’ve been… seeing each other. It’s been a little while now. She’s amazing, Dad. She’s smart, kind, funny. There was a pause on the other end before his dad’s voice returned, calm but kind. “I see. That’s lovely, Jay. And you’re calling me because…?”

Jay leaned against the side of the bus, staring down at the asphalt. “Because people found out. She’s a content creator. She makes videos, book reviews, vlogs stuff like that. She’s got a big following, but… I guess some people who follow me don’t like the idea of us being together. And now, they’re tearing her apart online. She’s getting all this hate, Dad, and it’s… it’s bad. Even the company’s socials are getting hit because of me.” His dad let out a soft sigh, and Jay could picture him leaning back in his chair, likely pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did when he was thinking. “The social media team filled me in earlier today,” his dad admitted. “They’ve been monitoring the situation and handling most of it, trying to keep it from escalating on our platforms. I didn’t want to distract you with it, especially with how important tonight’s game is.” Jay’s jaw clenched. “It’s bad, Dad. They’re coming for her like she did something wrong just by being with me. She doesn’t deserve this. I don’t even know how to fix it.” “You can’t control what people say, son,” his dad said gently. “I know it’s frustrating, but people always talk, especially when someone they admire starts living their life outside of the image those fans have built up in their heads. This isn’t Y/N’s fault, and it’s not yours either.” Jay leaned against the side of the bus, staring at the asphalt below. “I feel like I dragged her into this mess, though. She didn’t ask for any of it. And now, even the company is getting hit because of me.” His dad’s voice softened even further. “Jay, listen to me. The company can handle itself. That’s why we have a team in place, to deal with things like this. What matters to me, what matters to your mom, is that you’re happy. And if Y/N is a part of that happiness, then we’ll support you. People will always find reasons to criticize. It’s not fair, but it’s the reality of being in the spotlight.” His dad paused, then spoke with quiet conviction. “Does she make you happy?” Jay blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of the question. “Yeah. She does. A lot.” “Then don’t let anyone take that away from you,” his dad said firmly. “And don’t let her think for one second that she’s not worth it. People like to tear others down because they think they can. But if you and Y/N stick together, you can get through this. And as for the company? That’s my problem, not yours. You let me handle that.” Jay swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “Thanks, Dad. I just… thank you.” “You can always talk to me, son,” his dad replied. “And when you’re ready, bring her by. Your mom will want to meet her, and frankly, so do I. Anyone who can make you this happy has to be someone special.”

Jay managed a small smile, despite the weight in his chest. “I will. Soon.” “Good. Now go focus on your game. I’ll be watching." “Love you, Dad,” Jay said softly. “Love you too, son.”

Jay stepped onto the ice with a single-minded focus: win. The rage bubbling inside him from the past few hours made his movements sharp and aggressive. Every stride, every pass, every check was fueled by his anger and frustration.  The puck dropped, and the first faceoff was brutal. Jay muscled past his opponent, sending the puck flying toward Heeseung, who immediately began driving it down the rink.  Minutes into the game, it became clear to everyone that Jay wasn’t playing with his usual calm control. He slammed into one of the opposing players with a shoulder check that sent the guy sprawling onto the ice. The whistle blew sharply, but Jay barely flinched, skating back into position with a steely glare.

“Jay!” Soobin hissed as they lined up for the next play. “What the hell, man? Pull it back a little!” Jay ignored him. Later, during a scramble near the boards, another player tried to corner him. Jay shoved him off harder than necessary, sending the guy crashing into the plexiglass. The opposing bench erupted, yelling at the refs for a call. The ref blew the whistle and signaled for a penalty. “Two minutes in the box,” the he barked, pointing at Jay. Jay didn’t argue. He skated to the penalty box, sitting down heavily on the bench, his chest heaving. He yanked off his helmet, running a hand through his damp hair. He saw his teammates exchanging worried glances on the bench, CC pacing furiously behind them. Jay leaned his head back onto the wall of the box trying to calm down his breathing. It’s going to be fine. His dad was taking care of it. It’s going to be fine.  But at the same time he had to think of you, being alone in your apartment, probably not listening to his advice to not read anything, to turn off your phone and the rage inside his chest bubbled up more than ever before.  Back on the ice, the team fought to kill off the penalty, but Jay could barely focus on the game happening around him. His jaw clenched as he stared at the rink, replaying the hateful comments in his mind. His fists tightened as he thought about how powerless he’d felt seeing you scroll through them.

The penalty ended, and Jay burst back onto the ice with even more intensity. He intercepted a pass, speeding toward the goal with laser focus. An opposing defender tried to stop him, and Jay plowed through played the puck to Heesung and Heeseung set the puck into the goal. Just seconds later the first period ended. “What the hell are you doing out there?” the coach snapped, grabbing Jay by the arm when he arrived at the bench. “We don’t need you fouling around, Park. Pull it together or you’re sitting for the rest of the game. I want to see a fair game, no playing dirty or brutally.” Jay didn’t respond, just pulled his arm free and sat heavily on the bench. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, but he didn’t care. When the final whistle blew, the team had won, but his excitement over the win was muted. As they filed back into the locker room, Jay stayed quiet, avoiding the others. He showered quickly, the water doing little to cool his temper. By the time he was back on the bus, his teammates were chatting and laughing, but Jay sat silently, his gaze fixed out the window.  All he wanted was to get to you. He needed to see you, you, and figure out what the hell to do next.

You were sprawled out on your living room floor, one hand mindlessly stroking Gracie’s soft fur while your other arm draped over your eyes. The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting stripes of light across the room. Your phone sat next to you, buzzing intermittently with notifications you refused to check. Jay had told you not to look. He’d texted you three times already since leaving, urging you to ignore the comments, to stay offline. But you couldn’t. Gracie let out a soft purr as you scratched behind her ears. You sighed deeply and picked up your phone, opening youtube first. It didn’t take long to find the catalyst for the whole situation. In the vlog you posted yesterday, a brief six-second clip of Jay had made it in. His face wasn’t blurred. Combined with the few Instagram stories you’d posted over the past few weeks of cute cafés and hockey rinks, plus his own post of the two of you hugging after his last game, it was more than enough for people to piece things together. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, someone had leaked pictures from your private spam account.  You stared at the photos now flooding your twitter feed, a lump forming in your throat. Pictures of you out on dates, at the weekly movie night at Jays dorm, pictures you took of him cooking and snuggling with Gracie. Your mind raced, trying to figure out who could’ve leaked them. You trusted everyone on that account. Or at least, you thought you did.

You didn’t only get hate. There were supportive comments from your viewers and fans that were happy about you and Jay, of course some of them more and some less. Many speculated that Han and you were a thing, but kept it in private. You could now see why they were thinking that. Apparently you were the only one not thinking that.  “God, I’m so over this,” you muttered, dropping your phone onto the floor and rubbing your hands over your face. The harsh buzz of the doorbell startled you, followed by an unmistakable series of rapid, heavy knocks.  “Y/N, open up!” Before you could even stand up to open it, Taki was already stepping inside, his face clouded with concern. “Y/N,” he said softly, setting down his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes before coming over to you. “Are you okay?”

You tried for a smile, but it faltered almost immediately. “Not really,” you admitted, sitting up. “But I’m surviving, I guess.” Taki kneeled down next to you and gently pulled you into a hug. “Jay told me to come check on you. He’s worried,” he said, his tone low but comforting. “Well he told Yudai but he isn't here this weekend so Yudai told me and yeah.” You sighed, pulling back and gesturing for him to sit on the couch. “He shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want you worrying too.” “That’s my job as your brother,” he said lightly, flopping down onto the couch and patting the seat next to him. “Now sit and tell me what’s going on.” You hesitated for a moment before joining him, Gracie hopping into your lap the second you sat down. As you scratched behind her ears, the words tumbled out. “It’s a mess, Taki,” you began. “I messed up. I didn’t blur Jay’s face in my vlog, and between that and his post, his… fans figured out we’re dating. And now they hate me for it.”

Taki frowned, his expression softening as he listened. “Why would they hate you? That doesn’t make any sense. Jay seems like a great guy, and you guys look happy together.” You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s the problem, Taki. They think I’m not good enough for him, or that I’m using him for his money or his career. And some of them are just angry that I exist.” He tilted his head, clearly confused. “I don’t get it. Why would they think that?” You hesitated, running your fingers through Gracie’s fur. “Because Jay isn’t just some college hockey player, Taki. He’s already signed with one of the best NHL teams. He has a future most people can only dream about. And his parents? They own this insanely successful company. They’re millionaires. So… yeah, some people don’t like that he’s with me instead of, I don’t know, someone richer or more famous or -” “Someone stupid,” Taki interrupted, cutting you off with a shake of his head. “That’s ridiculous. You’re amazing, Y/N. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot.” His words brought a small smile to your face. “Thanks, Taki. But these people…they think I’m ruining everything for him.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s so stupid,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “It’s not like they even know him. And Jay doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to let other people tell him who he can date.” You shook your head. “He’s not. He’s been so… so amazing through all of this. But I don’t want him to have to deal with this either, you know? He’s already under so much pressure.” Taki studied you for a moment before leaning back, his tone softening. “Look, I don’t know much about this whole fan thing, but I do know one thing - Jay really likes you. That dude makes heart eyes at you every breathing second. And honestly, I think you like him just as much.”

You glanced at him, surprised by his sudden insight. “So,” he continued, a small smile tugging at his lips, “stop worrying about what other people think. The two of you are perfect for each other.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “When did you get so wise?" “I’ve always been wise,” he teased, nudging your shoulder, “Wise enough to go to Yudais party today. And you are coming along!” You groaned, shaking your head. “Taki, I’m really not in the mood.” He grinned, undeterred. “Too bad. Yudai’s letting me come, and Niki’s gonna be there too. You can hang out with us all night if you want. No pressure to talk to anyone else. Just come.” You hesitated, but the earnest look in his eyes made it hard to say no. “Fine,” you relented. He did a celebratory fist bump. 

The moment Niki barreled into your apartment, hyped to be allowed to come to a college party and not having to sneak home and being allowed to drink, you knew your night would be more fun than you anticipated. When you stepped into the kitchen, the smell of alcohol and the clinking of glasses greeted you. Taki wasted no time, zeroing in on the lineup of bottles on the counter like a kid in a candy store. “Oh, look at this!” he exclaimed, grabbing a bottle of tequila. “You’re not drinking that straight,” you warned, though your tone lacked its usual sternness. Yudai appeared just then, already buzzed. “Finally! Took you guys long enough. Shots! Let’s go.” Taki and Niki immediately nodded excitedly. You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest as Yudai handed out glasses. “One shot,” you warned the younger two, holding up a finger. “Yeah, yeah,” Taki muttered, clinking his glass against Niki’s and Yudai’s before throwing it back. You took your own shot, the burn of alcohol making you wince slightly. “Another round?” Yudai asked, holding up the bottle, ignoring your protest.

Before you knew it, the four of you were gathered around the beer pong table. Taki and Niki were practically bouncing with excitement, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their enthusiasm. “Y/N, you’re terrible at this,” Taki whined after you completely missed the table. “Careful, or you’re getting water for your next turn,” you shot back, making him laugh. As the game went on, you allowed yourself to let loose a little more. You even took a third? fourth? shot when Yudai passed it to you. Despite your growing haziness, you noticed Niki wobbling slightly as he lined up his next shot. When Yudai handed him another shot, you stepped in. “Okay, that’s enough for you,” you said, plucking the glass from his hand. “Y/N!” Niki groaned, pouting at you. “Nope,” you said firmly. “Water. Now.” Taki, his face already flushed from the alcohol, groaned dramatically. “You’re such a buzzkill.”

“Better a buzzkill than dealing with you puking later,” you retorted, handing them both water bottles from the counter. “Drink these or I’m telling Mom and aunt Aiko. That shut them up quickly, and you felt a small surge of triumph as they grudgingly obeyed. You turned back to the beer pong table, only to freeze when you caught sight of two familiar figures across the room. Felix and Chaeryeong stood by the doorway, their eyes scanning the crowd. Until Felix's gaze landed squarely on you. Your breath hitched. You managed a small, shy wave, but when Felix nudged Chaeryeong and they both started moving toward you, panic set in. You were sure they saw, they knew what was going on and if they came and asked if you were fine, you weren't able to pretend. Not today.  “I need some air,” you mumbled to your brothers, pushing off the counter. Before they could protest, you slipped out the back door, the cool night air hitting your face as you tried to steady your breathing. The cool night air hit your face like a slap, and you stumbled slightly as you stepped outside, gripping the railing for support, trying to steady your breathing.

Jay walked into the swim team's house behind Heeseung, Jake, and Beomgyu. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for a party, but you texted him that you are playing babysitter for your brother and his friend and now he had no option but to get dressed for the spring break party. Against his better judgement, he spent the last few hours scrolling through the hateful comments, which had dampened his mood drastically.  He barely registered the chatter and the music blasting around him. His gaze was searching for you, eyes scanning the room, dodging drunk students as he made his way deeper into the crowd. He didn’t have to look for long before spotting Felix, who was talking to a couple of people near the kitchen. He noticed Jay almost instantly, and when their eyes met, he gave him a sympathetic, almost understanding look. “Have you seen Y/N?” he asked, his voice tight with concern. Felix nodded, his expression softening. “She was here a few minutes ago, but I think she… kind of fled outside. Jay’s heart clenched at his words. He didn’t waste another second, muttering a quick thanks to Felix before moving toward the backdoor.  He spotted you almost immediately. You were leaning against the small shed in the garden, gazing into the dark sky.

Jay made his way over to you, shivering slightly against the cold. He took a step forward, then another, his feet heavy as he approached you. His heart skipped a beat when he softly whispered your name, “Y/N.” You turned toward him at the sound of your name, and for a split second, he caught the flash of recognition in your eyes before they softened with relief.  “Jay…”, your voice cracked slightly, but it was enough to make his heart tighten. He crossed the small distance, wrapping his arms around you. “Hi baby. Why are you outside? It’s so cold.”, he asked, his voice quiet against the crown of your hair. You shook your head a little, your lips pressing together as you tried to force a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I just…needed a minute.” Jay nodded. He wasn’t going to push you for details - not yet. He knew you would tell him in your own time. Instead, he pulled back slightly, taking our face into his hands and lightly rested his forehead against yours. “I get it,” he murmured. “You don’t have to explain anything. I just… I needed to see you. Needed to know you were okay.” The tension in your shoulders seemed to ease at his touch, and you let out a small sigh, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I’m just so frustrated, Jay. I can’t even look my friends in the face right, and… everything’s just so much.”

Jay’s hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently massaging the tension there. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You didn’t say anything in response, but he could feel your body relax further in his arms, your chest rising and falling as you leaned into him. “Come inside with me,” he whispered, pulling back just slightly so he could meet your eyes. “We don’t have to go back to the party, but I’m not leaving you out here alone." You hesitated for a moment, your brows furrowed in thought, but then you nodded.  “Okay,” you nodded, strengthening your shoulders. “We should probably check on Taki and Niki. I am sure they ignored my warning about snitching to mom and kept drinking.” Jay laughed and led you back inside, the noise of the party growing louder as you stepped into the living room. Drunk students were lingering in the room, laughing, talking, and occasionally yelling over the blaring music. Jay’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted Taki and Niki slumped on a couch, giggling like children as they watched a Mario Kart game unfold on the TV. A group of people had gathered around the players, cheering and shouting encouragement. “There they are,” Jay said, nodding toward the couch. You followed his gaze and laughed softly. “Of course they’d be there.”

Taki spotted you both and immediately waved, his hand flopping dramatically as he almost tipped off the couch. “Y/N! Get over here!” Jay chuckled, steering you toward the duo, his hand never leaving the small of your back. When you reached them, Taki was giggling uncontrollably at Niki’s horrified expression as his kart spun out of control. “Bro, you just drove off Rainbow Road. Again." “Shut up,” Niki muttered, and turned to you, “Y/N save me. I can’t do this. I don’t even have a license yet!”  You burst out laughing and softly shoved your brother out of the way so you could sit down on the sofa next to him. Your brother immediately dropped his head onto your lap and giggled again.  “How much did you drink, Taki.”, you asked while caressing your hair. He shook his head and protested, he didn’t drink too much! The world isn’t even spinning yet! You just rolled your eyes and signed.  Jay chuckled, settling himself on the floor by your legs, his shoulder brushing against your knee. His gaze kept drifting to you. Your gentle touch as you smoothed Taki's hair, the way your lips curved into a tender smile. God, you were beautiful. And when you were like this, soft and sweet and effortlessly loving, he couldn’t help but fall for you even harder. You looked down and caught his eye winking at him. He smiled and focused back onto the TV screen where Yoshi just took another nose dive into space. He felt your long nails slightly scratching along the sensitive skin of his neck and shivered.  “Y/N, help me!” Niki groaned dramatically, interrupting your moment by waving his controller in front of your face like it might somehow convince you to help him. You rolled your eyes, your hand still absently moving up and down Jay’s neck. “Niki, you can’t just give up. You gotta power through.” “I am not giving up!” Niki insisted, his tone petulant, and you laughed. “Yes, you are.” You glanced down at Jay, your fingers not stopping. “Jay, save him. He’s apparently incapable of surviving Rainbow Road on his own.” Jay tilted his head to look up at you, grinning. “What do I get if I rescue him?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “My eternal gratitude?” “Not enough,” Jay teased, leaning slightly against your leg. “I’m risking my life here. Niki’s going to blame me if I lose.” “Jayyyy,” Niki groaned, flopping back against the couch.

“Fine, fine.” You nudged Jay gently with your foot and leaned forward, whispering. “How about I make it worth your while in ways Niki doesn’t need to know about?”  Jay felt his neck and ears flush red at that comment, but took the controller form Niki’s outstretched hand. “Deal. But if I lose, I’m blaming you for distracting me. You snorted. “You can’t be serious.” Jay looked up at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Dead serious. You’re too pretty. It’s unfair.” A faint blush crept up your cheeks, but you rolled your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “Just play the game, hockey boy.” As Jay took control, the game resumed, and Niki immediately began shouting instructions from beside him. “No, no, don’t take that shortcut! It’s a trap!” Jay ignored him, more or less expertly navigating the twists and turns of the map. He leaned forward, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration.

“See?” he said, glancing up at you for a split second as he rounded a sharp curve and caught up with the other players. Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a challenge, given that Jay was sober while the other players seemed barely capable of walking in a straight line, let alone focusing on the screen and steering a virtual motorbike. “This is how it’s done, Niki.” “Show-off,” you muttered, but you were smiling. “Jealous?” Jay teased, barely dodging a banana peel. “Not at all.” “Uh-huh.” Jay smirked, his confidence growing as he passed another racer.  You crossed your arms, pretending to be unimpressed, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “I’ll admit it when you win, not before.” “Challenge accepted,” Jay nodded. As the game progressed, Niki alternated between cheering and groaning, Taki dozed off in your lap, and Jay kept stealing glances at you, his chest swelling with a mix of pride and affection every time he saw you smile. By the time Jay crossed the finish line in fifth place, he threw his hands up in mock victory, turning to you with a triumphant grin. “Hah! Look at that!” You laughed, shaking your head. “Well done babe.” Niki jumped up and almost threw himself into Jays’ arms. “Thank you, Jay. I will always remember this!” He tried giving Jay a kiss, but Jay stopped him and sat him down next to him again, fending off the younger's love. “No worries Niki.”, Jay grabbed the remote again and got ready for the next round. This time the other players decided on playing an easier route, choosing… Bowser's castle? “I’m going to use the bathroom,” you said softly, leaning toward Jay and kissing his head. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He tore his eyes away from the screen. “Are you sure? Should i come along?” You gave him a small smile, nodding, while you carefully moved Takis head, waking him up in the process. “I’m fine, Jay. Promise. I am a big girl.”

Reluctantly, he let you go, watching as you disappeared down the hallway. Turning back to Taki and Niki, he chuckled at the scene in front of him. Niki was now lying on his back on the couch, kicking his feet in mock frustration as he held an empty red Solo cup. “I hate this game! Who invented this stupid road with no sides? I’m suing Nintendo!” “Yeah, good luck with that,” Jay said, smirking as he leaned against the couch, the controller abandoned. Taki squinted at him, his face scrunching in exaggerated concentration. “You… you’re Jay, right? The hockey guy. With the money.” “Yeah, Taki. That’s me,” Jay said, amused. Taki sat up dramatically, pointing a finger at him, though his hand wobbled. “Listen, Jay. I like you. You’re cool.” He paused, his expression turning serious or as serious as a drunk 17-year-old could manage. “But if you hurt Y/N… I’ll kick you in the nuts.” Niki snorted, not even trying to stifle his laughter. Jay burst out laughing, ruffling Taki’s hair. “Duly noted, Taki. I’ll keep that in mind.” “I mean it,” Taki insisted, poking Jay’s chest. “She’s awesome. And you’re, like, just a dude. So don’t screw it up. She can replace you. Easily.” “I won’t,” Jay said, his voice softening. “I promise.” Taki seemed satisfied with that, flopping back against the couch.

After listening to their banter for a few minutes Jay glanced toward the hallway where you had disappeared. You’d been gone for a while now. He stood up, detangling his limbs from Taki and Niki, ignoring their complaints, and headed toward the toilets. As he moved through the crowd, he nearly bumped into Jake, who was coming from the kitchen with a drink in hand. “Whoa, man. Watch it,” Jake said, grinning. “You lose someone?” “Yeah,” Jay muttered, his brows furrowed. “Have you seen Y/N?” Jake tilted his head thoughtfully. “Nope. Did you lose her?” Jay shook his head, scanning the room once more for any sign of you. “She said she was going to the bathroom, but it’s been a while.” “Hmm.” Jake glanced toward the hallway. “Could be a line.” Jay shrugged, though unease prickled at him. “Maybe. I’ll go check upstairs. She likes the bathroom up there better. Fewer drunk people hanging around.” “I’ll come with you.”, Jake nodded and followed Jay, as he navigated through the crowd. As they walked, Jay dodged a group of tipsy girls stumbling into the kitchen, his focus narrowing as they approached the staircase. Jay climbed the stairs, Jake following a step behind. He was halfway to the bathroom door when his steps faltered. There, at the end of the hall, you were standing. Talking to Han.

Jay’s jaw clenched as he stopped in his tracks, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. Han leaned slightly forward, his expression a mix of regret and sadness. You stood across from him, calm and composed, your arms loosely crossed. “I should-” Jay started, stepping toward you, but Jake grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t,” Jake said firmly. Jay turned to glare at him. “Why not? He’s-” “Look,” Jake cut him off, gesturing subtly toward the two of you. “They’re not fighting. She looks fine. And Han looks like a kicked puppy. Let them talk.” Jay hesitated, his fists clenching at his sides. He hated watching you and Han together. Resentment boiled in his chest. Still, he couldn’t ignore Jake’s reasoning. You didn’t look distressed. Your body language wasn’t defensive or angry, just... patient. Whatever was being said, it didn’t seem like it was hurting you.

His eyes snapped up when he saw you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, his face crumpled into a mix of regret and hesitation. “Hi, Han,” you said evenly, even though your heart started racing. You really didn’t want to deal with this now, not when you had a few drinks and he probably had as well. You gave him a polite, tight smile and tried to walk past him, but his hand shot out, gently catching your wrist. “Y/N, wait,” he said, his voice quiet but urgent. You stopped, glancing down at his hand on your arm before meeting his gaze. “What do you want Han?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Can we talk? Please,” he said, his voice tinged with desperation. You hesitated. After a moment, you sighed. “Okay. Talk. Han let go of your wrist, his hand dropping limply to his side. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as he steadied himself. “I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… I’ve been such an idiot. And I hate how things are between us now.” You crossed your arms, staying silent as he struggled to get his words out. There were no things between you. Nothing. Nada.  “I’ve loved you for a long time, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice soft but heavy with emotion. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment we became friends. And I knew, I knew, you didn’t feel the same way. But I told myself that maybe if I waited long enough, if I was just patient, you’d come around. You’d come to see me as more than your childhood best friend.” Your chest tightened as his words sank in. Since he first met you? That means it would have been more than 8 years at this point.  “I know now how stupid that was. Delusional, even,” he continued, his voice growing quieter. “You were never anything but honest with me. You were my friend, and I took that friendship and twisted it into something selfish. I let my feelings fester, and when Jay came into the picture… I lost it. I couldn’t handle it. I thought I’d been waiting for so long, and then he just showed up and…” Han trailed off, his eyes glistening under the dim light. He took another deep breath, his voice cracking as he said, “I hurt you, Y/N. I said things, did things, that I’ll never forgive myself for. And the worst part is, I knew how much I was hurting you in the moment, but I let it happen anyway. I was bitter and jealous, and that’s on me. None of it was your fault. Nothing I said at that party is the truth. I don't think of you like that, I just wanted to hurt you, like you hurt me. Even if you didn’t intent to." Your throat felt tight, but you forced yourself to respond. “Han…” “No, let me finish,” he interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “I need to say this. I need you to know how sorry I am. For everything. For ruining what we had, for making you feel like you couldn’t trust me. I don’t expect you to forgive me - not right now, maybe not ever. But I had to tell you how sorry I am.”

You looked at him, your emotions warring between anger, sadness, and something softer. “Han, I’m not going to pretend this didn’t hurt me,” you said finally, your voice steady but quiet. “You were my best friend. I don’t know if I can forgive you. I don’t even know if I’m ready to try." Han nodded, his expression pained but understanding. “I get it. I do. And if you need space, I’ll give you that. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of never telling you how much I regret all of it. And i don’t want you to avoid the others anymore. They worry Y/N. A lot. If you want me to, I'll stop hanging around them, but please talk to them." Before you could respond, you caught movement over his shoulder. Glancing up, you saw Jay and Jake at the end of the hallway. Jay’s jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on you, while Jake hovered beside him, looking more curious than concerned. Han followed your gaze and turned to look. When he spotted Jay, a bitter smile flickered across his face before fading into something more resigned. He turned back to you, his voice softening. “I’m glad he makes you happy, Y/N. In a way, I couldn’t.” You blinked, unsure of what to say. After a moment, you simply nodded.  “Maybe someday we can go back to being friends,” he added, his tone wistful. “Maybe,” you said quietly, offering him a small, tentative smile. As you stepped around Han and headed toward Jay, his hand immediately found yours. His eyes searched yours, concern etched into his features. “What happened?” he asked, his voice low and protective. “Nothing,” you said softly, squeezing his hand and smiling at him. He really made you happy. “He just needed to talk. I’m fine.” Jay didn’t look convinced, but he nodded, brushing his thumb against your hand as he guided you back downstairs.

When the three of you rejoined Jays friends in the kitchen your mind couldn’t stop reeling. Han might not think you were a slut and a gold digger, but apparently many others do and they let you know they do. Every time you open your phone in fact. You found yourself reaching for the nearest drink table, eager for a distraction. You felt Jays gaze on you as you poured yourself a cup of something pink and unidentifiable, but he didn’t stop you, watching carefully instead. The drink wasn’t particularly strong and you couldn’t figure out what you were drinking, but the slight burn of the alcohol was enough for you to set the cup aside again. Getting drunk wasn’t going to help you figure anything out right.  You plastered a smile on your face, laughing along when needed, determined to shake off the heaviness from your conversation with Han.  “Let’s dance,” you said, taking a sip and tugging at Jays hand. Jay obliged, though his gaze lingered on you, concern etched into his features. The two of you moved with the music, and for a fleeting moment, you almost convinced yourself that the tightness in your chest was fading. It wasn’t. If you were honest it just got worse. The music, the people laughing, the overwhelming smell of sweat, weed and alcohol made you want to scream. Han’s words replayed in your mind. His regret, his confession, the way he said Jay made you happy in a way he couldn’t. You didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Relieved? Angry? All of it mixed together? Jay noticed. Of course he noticed. “Y/N,” he said softly, leaning down so only you could hear him over the music. “Let’s go home.” You blinked up at him, the forced smile slipping from your face. “What? No, I’m fine,” you lied, shaking your head. “I want to stay.” Jay didn’t let go of your hand. His gaze was steady, grounding, as he said, “You’re not fine. Let’s go.” Your chest tightened, and for a second, you wanted to argue.  “Okay,” you whispered.

Before leaving, the two of you searched for Taki and Niki, who were both passed out on the couch, tangled in a heap of limbs and half-empty cups. Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get Niki. Can you grab Taki?” It took some effort, but the two of you managed to haul your brother and his friend upstairs to Yudai’s room. Jay carefully laid Niki on the bed while you tucked Taki in beside him, brushing his hair out of his face as he mumbled incoherently in his sleep. You and Jay exchanged a small, exhausted smile before quietly slipping out of the room.

The walk back to your flat was quiet, the cold night air sobering you slightly but doing little to settle the storm in your chest. Jay’s hand was warm and steady around yours, his thumb tracing small circles against your skin. When you finally reached your place, you let out a shaky breath as the door clicked shut behind you. You kicked off your shoes and let yourself fall flat onto your sofa, startling Gracie, who was resting on her bed next to the cushions.  Jay watched as you slumped onto the couch. He sat down beside you, close but not too close, waiting for you to speak. For a moment, the room was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the heater kicking on. Then, the words spilled out of you. “I don’t know how to deal with this, Jay,” you started, your voice tight and wavering. “What Han said... God, I don’t even know how to feel about it. He’s been my friend for so long, and I love him. Platonically. But he didn’t. Doesn’t? Oh I don’t know. Looking him in the eyes today-” Your voice cracked, and you shook your head. “It was so hard. I hated it.” Jay’s hand moved to your back, resting there lightly as you continued. 

“And my friends…” you continued, your voice rising slightly as the words tumbled out faster. “I can’t even look them in the eyes because I don’t want them to feel like they have to choose between me and Han. I don’t want them to pick sides. I just- I want everything to go back to normal, but it can’t, can it? And then he offers that he could just pull back a bit? To not hang out with them so I can do so? I don’t want him to do that. They are our friends. No matter what the two of us are.” Your breath hitched, and you covered your face with your hands for a moment before dropping them to your lap. “And I just want to stop feeling sad. I want to stop being like this so you don’t have to worry about me all the time. You already have enough on your plate, and I-” “Hey,” Jay interrupted softly, his hand pressing slightly firmer against your back. “Stop. Just stop for a second." You glanced at him, your eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. He met your gaze, his expression filled with so much tenderness it made your chest ache. “I’m glad you told me all of this,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I need to know when things are weighing on you, Y/N. I want to know. You don’t have to bottle it all up, okay?” You nodded slightly, your lips pressing together as you tried to hold back tears. It really was the first time that you’ve told him what's going on you realized.  “It’s normal that you feel like shit right now, Y/N. If you weren’t I would be worried even more. If Jake told me he had a crush on me since highschool and then cursed me out I would not leave my room for months, but look at you powering through. I know you don't feel like everything is okay, but give yourself a bit of time. It’s going to be weird and hard for a bit, but at one point you will be laughing about the whole situation.”, he shook his head and moved next to you onto the sofa, slightly adjusting you, so that you were lying in his arms.  “And about the social media stuff,” Jay continued, “my dad’s already on it. He has a team of professionals who deal with this kind of thing. They’re going to handle it, and they’ll give you tips on what to do. You don’t have to figure this out on your own. We’ve got it covered.” You blinked, surprised. “Your dad knows?” Jay gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. He wanted to help." You nodded slowly, the weight on your chest easing just a fraction. “You don’t have to solve everything by yourself,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Let me take some of the weight, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

You loved waking up in Jay's arms. He was over more mornings than not so the two of you have built up your own little routine by now. Jay was responsible for breakfast, while you handled the drinks. A iced americano for him and a different drink for you and a bit of milk for Gracie, since you are easily influenced by her pleading meows. Jay scolded you for it everyday, but didn’t stop you. Instead he bought cat milk for her. Simp. His phone buzzed with an incoming call. Jay groaned, lifting his phone from your bedside table to check the caller ID. “It’s Coach Choi.”, he muttered, irritation clear in his voice. Answering the call, Jay’s tone was clipped but polite. “Yeah, Coach? What’s up?” You glanced up at him with a questioning look, but he just gave you a reassuring smile and mouthed, I’ll be okay. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but from the way Jay’s jaw tightened and his fingers paused in your hair, it was clear this wasn’t a casual check-in. “Alright. I’ll be there,” he finally said, ending the call with a heavy sigh. “What’s going on?” you asked, sitting up slightly. “Coach wants me at the rink,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “No idea why, but I have to go.” You frowned but nodded. “Okay.” Jay leaned down to kiss your forehead before grabbing his things. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Park.”, the Coach barked, “Sit.” Jay dropped himself onto one of the benches opposing his Coach. “What the hell is going on with you?” Coach Choi’s voice echoed off the tiled walls. “You think last night was acceptable? Playing like a damn wrecking ball and spending more time in the penalty box than on the ice? The penalty box isn’t where we win games!” Jay opened his mouth to respond, but Coach cut him off with a glare. “You’re the co-captain of this team, Jay. Do you understand what that means? It means you’re supposed to be a role model. Someone the younger guys look up to. You’re supposed to keep your head in the game, set the example - not be the one I have to bench because you can’t control your temper.” Jay clenched his jaw, his fists tightening on his thighs. He wanted to explain, to defend himself, but there was no way to deny that Coach was right. “If you’re distracted by something,” Coach continued, his tone hard but not unkind, “then you need to handle it. Whatever it is- your personal life, girl trouble, social media drama - I don’t care. You leave it at the door. You’re here to play hockey, not let everyone else clean up your mess. The mention of girl trouble made Jay’s stomach twist. He could hear the implication loud and clear. This wasn’t just about his performance; it was about you, about the backlash you were facing and how it was bleeding into his game. “Do you even realize the position you’re in, Park?” Coach’s voice softened slightly, his frustration giving way to something almost like concern. “You’re one of the most talented players we’ve had in years. Your future is right in front of you, but if you keep playing like you did last night, you’re going to ruin it before it even starts.” Jay took a deep breath, his head bowed. “I understand, Coach,” he said quietly. Coach sighed, running a hand over his face. “Good. Because I don’t want to see that kind of performance again. And if there’s something going on - something you need help with -  figure it out. Quickly.”  The words hit Jay like a slap to the face. He wanted to yell, to argue, but instead, he nodded stiffly. “I’ll do better next time.” Coach studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “See that you do. Ask Jeonghee if you need help with anything regarding that situation with your girl. Dismissed.” As Jay left the rink, his mind was a whirlwind of anger and frustration. He knew the Coach had heard about the social media backlash. But the thought of anyone, even his coach, implying you were a liability made his blood boil. You were the best thing in his life, and anyone who couldn’t see that could go to hell.

“Jay?” you called cautiously. He didn’t answer, instead walking straight over to you, plucking your book from your hands  and draping himself over you, his weight pressing you back against the cushions. “Jay!” you laughed, trying to sit up. “What-” He didn’t let you finish. His lips were on your neck, softly feathing it with kisses. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “Jay, wait,” you said between breaths, “what’s going on?” He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his own dark and intense. “I’m just so mad,” he muttered. “At Coach, at the stupid hate, at all of it. But then I come back here, and you’re just… you.” You blinked at him, your heart pounding. “Me?” “You,” he said, pressing another kiss to the side of your neck. “You’re perfect, and I don’t care what anyone else says. I don’t care if I have to fight every coach, every fan, and everyone else who doesn’t get it.” Your hands found his shoulders, slightly pushing him up. “Jay, slow down. What happened?” He sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. “Coach basically told me to get my head in the game or break up with you.” Your breath got caught in your throat. “He said that?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah,” Jay admitted, his voice low. “And I’m not breaking up with you. That’s not even an option.” You felt a wave of emotion crash over you, a mix of anger, gratitude, and love. You cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. “Jay, I’m sorry. This is all my fault.” “Stop,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “None of this is your fault. Don’t ever think that. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, Y/N. Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.” You nodded, your chest tight with emotion. “Okay.” Jay’s forehead rested against yours. “I just can’t stand the thought of anyone making you feel like you’re anything less than amazing.”

Jay’s forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm and steady against your skin. His voice was soft but filled with emotion. “I just can’t stand the thought of anyone making you feel like you’re anything less than amazing.”

His words sent a shiver through you, your heart swelling in your chest. A faint smile tugged at your lips as your hands slid up his shoulders, fingers brushing over the firm lines of his muscles, until they clasped together behind his neck.

“You’re doing a pretty good job of reminding me,” you whispered, your voice light but trembling slightly with emotion.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending warmth cascading through you. His lips brushed lightly over yours, teasing, before he murmured, “Good. Because you deserve to feel that way every second.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that sent your thoughts scattering.

His lips were hot and insistent against yours, moving with a fervent intensity that left you breathless. He kissed you deeply, his tongue teasing and coaxing you in a way that made your knees feel weak, even as you stood firm in his embrace. You responded without hesitation, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging slightly as he deepened the kiss further.

Jay’s hands weren’t idle; they traveled up and down your torso, his touch igniting a trail of warmth that lingered long after his fingers moved. His palms were firm yet gentle as they slid under the hem of the oversized hoodie you were wearing, the rough pads of his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your sides.

When his hands brushed the underside of your bra, you gasped softly against his lips, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. Your chest heaved, your heart racing as you tried to steady yourself.

“Jay,” you whimpered, the sound escaping unbidden as his lips left yours to trail a heated path down your jawline.

He stopped immediately, his movements slowing as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His pupils were blown wide, dark and intense, and the sight of him sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach. His voice was husky and careful, thick with restraint as he asked, “Can I touch you?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, your body alive with anticipation. You met his gaze, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

The way his expression shifted made your breath hitch. This man was going to drive you insane, and you didnt mind it a bit.

You were still asleep on Jay's naked chest when his phone rang. The sound of it being enough to wake you up from your slumber. You opened one of your eyes and squinted at Jay as he stretched towards the bedside table. He glanced at the caller ID and you felt him tense under your hands. “Hey Dad.”, he greeted his father. You pulled up the blanket over your naked bodies a bit more, the thought of his dad made you want to hide any evidence of what you did earlier in the afternoon. “Yes I am with Y/N.”, he said furrowing his eyebrows, listening to his dad again. You strained your ear to understand what his dad was saying but gave up after a few seconds of not being able to decipher any of his words.  “Got it,” Jay muttered. “Yeah, I’ll post it right. Thanks for handling this and for helping Y/N.” His dad answered something that made Jay chuckle. “Yes Dad I will…Yes…I will tell mom myself…I love you too.” Jay’s hand was tracing up and down your naked spin under the covers while he seemingly thought about what his dad just told him.  After a beat of silence he signed opened his phone again. “Dads team drafted something for us to post. We can post it whenever we want, wherever you feel comfortable posting it.” You swallowed hard, your heart clenching but you nodded. “What does it say?” Jay pulled up the text draft and handed you his phone. “This is what they wrote for me.” You rubbed your eyes a bit and sat up, the blanket pooling around your hip and Jays hands wandered to your waist, caressing it while you read the statement. 

“To my fans, followers, and everyone who has shown support throughout my career: I want to address something that’s deeply personal. Over the past few days, I’ve seen behavior I can’t and won’t tolerate. My girlfriend, Y/N, is someone I care deeply about, and she’s been nothing but kind, hardworking, and supportive. She doesn’t deserve the hate or invasion of privacy she’s endured. Let me be clear: if you claim to support me, you’ll respect her. Thank you to those who stand with us. To those who don’t, I don’t need you in my corner. – Jay ” You handed the phone back, your chest tightening with nerves. “And me?” He opened another email, handing you his phone again. “This is what they suggested for you.” “Hello everyone. This is my one and only statement. Harassment, defamation, and invasion of privacy are illegal, and I won’t hesitate to take legal action against anyone involved in such behavior. Sharing pictures of my private instagram account and then spreading lies about my intentions regarding my boyfriend, sending not only me but also him hate is taking it a step too far.  Those actions are listed as defamatory and are crimes. My legal team is currently collecting evidence and I will press charges. I will not forgive and will pursue the furthest extent of the law.  To those who’ve supported me: I am forever grateful for your love and support. – Y/N” You read the text, your anxiety creeping up with every line. “Since when do I have a legal team.”, you furrowed your eyes and looked at Jay.  He shrugged. “I am pretty sure my dads legal team is now also ours?” You looked back onto the phone. “I don’t know, Jay,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What if it makes things worse?”

Jay reached over, taking your hand in his. “It won’t,” he said firmly. “The people who care about you will stand behind you. Fuck the rest. You don’t need those clowns in your life.” You laughed and then nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The fallout was immediate. Comments and DMs flooded your notifications almost the second you posted your statements. You found yourself obsessively refreshing your phone, watching the numbers climb, rereading replies, and letting each one weigh heavier on your chest. It wasn’t until Jay plucked the phone from your hand, turned it off, and tucked it out of reach that you finally stopped. "Enough," he said firmly but gently, guiding you to your feet. "Come on, let’s do something else. Something not even remotely connected to that mess." Jay practically dragged you to the shower, shampooing your hair with so much care you were about to cry. Once you both were dressed and ready to go, he moved to the bookshelf in your bedroom and pulled out a battered copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, its spine cracked and corners softened by your years of love and annotations. He carefully tucked it into his bag along with your sketchbook and markers. You let him take your hand as he led you outside into the crisp March air. The evening was cool and the sun was just beginning to set, painting the horizon in different shades of amber and violet. By the time you reached your destination, darkness had settled in. You looked up, blinking in surprise at the sight of the familiar entryway. The grand double doors of the library loomed before you, its stone facade glowing faintly in the moonlight. “The library?” you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity as Jay pushed open one of the heavy doors and pulled you inside. “Yeah.” He nodded decisively, guiding you through the quiet halls to a small reading nook near one of the towering windows. “You told me you loved sketching here. So do it. I’ll sit here, read, and let you just...draw. Forget everything else.” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you dropped into one of the old, plush chairs in the corner. Jay crouched to unpack the bag, setting your sketchbook and markers into your lap. Then he settled into the chair beside you, flipping open your well-loved copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. For a while, the world narrowed down to the sound of pages turning and the soft scratch of your pen on paper. You let yourself drift, losing track of time until Jay nudged you, gesturing toward the clock. “We should head back,” he said, closing the book and sliding it into his bag. The walk back was quiet, save for the crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant hum of campus life winding down for the evening. You were starting to feel tired, despite the amount of sleep you’d gotten today, and leaned into Jay’s calming presence as the two of you strolled together. Neither of you was in the mood to cook, so you decided to grab something quick from the campus food hall. You were about to pile an arguably excessive amount of kimchi onto your plate when a familiar voice startled you “Y/N!" You turned, finding Felix standing there with a wide grin “Hi, Felix,” you said, smiling back at him. An actual smile, for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Are you alone?” he asked, grabbing a tray for himself. “Uh, no.” You shook your head, motioning toward Jay, who was setting his tray down at a table nearby. “I’m here with Jay. We just spent the day in the library.” “Studying?” Felix asked, his tone mockingly incredulous as he raised an eyebrow. You laughed, nudging his shoulder with your own. “No, you idiot. I was sketching, and Jay was reading.” “Thought so,” he replied with a smirk, loading up his tray with what could only be described as a even more reckless amount of kimchi. “If you’d told me you were studying, I wouldn’t have believed you anyway. No offense.” “None taken,” you teased, shaking your head. Felix glanced around the food hall, nodding toward a familiar table in the corner. “I’m here with some of the others. Wanna join us? Or we could join you?” You hesitated, looking over to where Jay was watching the two of you, his tray already on the table. He smiled at you, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

“I…” You trailed off, turning back to Felix, whose expression had turned a bit awkward. You took a breath, forcing yourself to push past the tension lingering in your chest. “I’d love to. Let me just grab Jay, and we’ll come sit with you. Are you at our usual table?” Felix nodded, motioning toward the familiar corner. “Yeah. Are you sure it’s fine? Han’s there too.” You paused, steadying yourself before answering. “It’s fine,” you said, your voice firmer than you expected. “I can handle it. We can all behave like adults, right?” Felix studied you for a moment, his freckled face softening with relief. “Of course.” “I’m sorry I avoided you all, Lix,” you admitted, setting your tray down on the counter as you rubbed your temples. “I needed to sort my shit out, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you guys.” “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle. He put down his tray down as well and pulled you into a warm hug. You blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears that threatened to well up, and wrapped your arms around him. When you finally separated, Felix gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “Let’s go, yeah? I’ll tell the others you’ll come over and make Chan move away from your seat near the heater.” “Thanks,” you chuckled with a small smile, picking up your tray and heading toward Jay. Jay raised an eyebrow as you approached, his expression curious. “Everything okay?” You nodded, setting your tray down next to his. “Felix invited us to join their table. Would that be okay with you?” “Of course,” Jay said easily, standing and grabbing his tray. He studied you for a second, “Is it fine for you?" “Yes.”, you said with a nod.  “Okay then let’s go, sweetheart.” The smile he gave you made your heart flutter. 

The two of you made your way to your usual table, where the rest of your friends were already seated. Lia waved you over enthusiastically, scooting her tray aside to make room for you both. “Look who’s here!” Felix announced as you and Jay slid into the seats. Han’s eyes flickered to you briefly, his expression unreadable, before he offered a small nod.  “Okay, serious question,” Minho said, leaning back in his chair looking at Jay with narrowed eyes. You noticed Jay tensing up next to you and you were ready to stop Minho when he continued. “Jay, you are a neutral party here. Do you think Changbin has a bubble but yes or no.” You blinked, startled by the abruptness of the question. You were expecting something completely different.  Jay snorted, all the tension from his body gone in seconds. “A bubble butt?”  “Oh my God,” Lia groaned, covering her face with her hands. “We are not doing this again. Not in front of a stranger.” “We are absolutely doing this again,” Yuna declared.  “His girlfriend is reading these books and in one they talk about bubble butts. She claims Binnie has one. He claims he doesn't.”, Seungmin explained, almost uninterested. “He is just doing squats,” Lia argued. “Lots of squats.” “Or implants,” Minho added, his expression completely deadpan.

“Implants?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow as he reached forward to dip his spoon into his food. Bang Chan leaned forward, his tone mock-scolding. “Don’t talk about him like that when Changbin is not here to defend himself.” “Who says I’m not here?” Everyone turned as Changbin appeared, tray in hand, eyebrows raised suspiciously. “What are you saying about me?” “Oh, nothing,” Minho said innocently, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Uh-huh.” Changbin narrowed his eyes, setting his tray down. “Wait. Is this about my butt again?” “No!” Yuna said quickly, though her wide grin said otherwise. “Yes,” Han muttered, earning a shove from Yeji. Changbin groaned, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. I’ve told you guys, I don't have one. I’ll prove it right now if I have to.” “Don’t you dare!” Lia squealed, slapping her hands over her eyes as the table erupted into laughter, while Changbin turned around, his hands on the waistline of his jeans. “Binnie, please,” Minho said through barely-contained snickers. “We’re in public.” The commotion settled, though the lingering giggles and playful teasing rippled through the group. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them bicker and banter.

Not much had changed. But somehow, everything had. You caught yourself studying the way Han laughed at one of Minho’s sarcastic remarks, the tension you’d been carrying toward him softening just a little. Lia and Yeji were laughing about something on Seungmins phone, while Felix, Changbin and Yuna argued over getting ass and hip implants. And then there was Jay, sitting beside you with a quiet smile, watching the whole scene unfold. Maybe he was right. Maybe everything just needed a bit time for grass to grow over. 

The end of your spring break arrived faster than you expected, and now you were here, standing in front of an elevator in a sleek, high-rise building in the heart of Seoul. The city buzzed below you, a symphony of car horns and distant chatter that seemed to vibrate in your chest. You clutched the box containing the cake you spent all morning baking tightly, your knuckles white. Jay stood beside you, his hand on the small of your back, while his other held a bouquet of flowers. “Relax,” he murmured, leaning closer. “They’re going to love you." “I’m not worried about that,” you lied, your voice a touch higher than normal. Jay smirked knowingly, his lips brushing your temple. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Before you could argue, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal the penthouse floor. You stepped out hesitantly, glancing down at your shoes and the way they squeaked faintly on the polished marble. Jay's parents had a very expensive taste.  The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you came to a sudden stop, panic flaring in your chest. “Jay, no,” you whispered, whirling to face him. “We have to turn around. Right now.” “What?” He blinked, his expression caught between amusement and concern. “Jay,” you hissed, gesturing toward the grand double doors at the end of the hall. “I’m not... I can’t do this! I didn’t even-” Before you could spiral further, Jay stepped behind you and gently turned you around by your shoulders, steering you toward the doors. “You’re going to be fine,” he said firmly, though his voice was still soft. “They’re not scary, I promise.” Jay pulled a key card from his pocket and swiped it across the panel. The door beeped softly, and Jay pushed it open, stepping inside. “Come on,” he said, holding it open for you with a grin. You hesitated but stepped in. The air smelled faintly of something delicious and you could hear faint clattering from the kitchen. Jay closed the door behind you and turned to you with a smile.  “Shoes off, please,” he said, already bending down to untie his shoes.  As soon as he stood upright, Jay took the cake from your hands and cradled it carefully. “Got it,” he said, glancing down at the dessert. “I’ll take this in.” You followed and crouched down, fumbling with the straps of your heels.  A cheerful voice called out from deeper in the apartment. “Is that you, Jay?” “Yes it’s us Mom!” he called back, his tone light. 

You barely had time to steel yourself before his mom appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Her face lit up when she saw you, her smile warm and welcoming. “Y/N!” she exclaimed, coming forward with open arms, completely ignoring her son. “Hi, Mrs. Park,” you said, bowing slightly. Jay’s mom didn’t hesitate for even a second. She stepped forward and pulled you into a warm, slightly overwhelming hug.  “Oh, it’s so good to meet you,” she said, squeezing you gently. You felt your eyes widen, and over her shoulder, you shot Jay a desperate look.  Jay, save me. Jay smothered a laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly as he mouthed, You’re fine. When his mom finally pulled back, she took a good look at you, her hands resting lightly on your arms. “You’re even prettier than I imagined,” she said warmly. You managed a shy smile, your cheeks flushing. “T-thank you,” you stammered, holding up the flowers as a distraction. “We brought these for you.”

“Oh, Y/N, these are beautiful! Thank you so much.” she exclaimed, taking the flowers and calling over her shoulder, “Now Jay where are your manners. Bring your girlfriend inside while I get your father.”, she jokingly scolded her son and disappeared again.  “Jay.”, you hissed under your breath, glaring at him when the two of you walked past the floor to ceiling high windows with a perfect view of Seouls skyline. “You’re fine,” he whispered back, grinning as he set the cake down on the already decked dinner table. “I’m going to die,” you mumbled, your face buried in your hands. “You’re not dying,” he said, his voice full of amusement. “My mom already loves you.” His hands slid around your waist and he pulled you close to him. You put your arms on his shoulders pouting up at him.  “Mhm.”, he said tilting his head, “Pouting won’t save you darling.”  Sure. Thanks Jay, for those motivating words.  “You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?”, he quickly pecked you on the lips and then released you from his hold, just in time as his mother came into the dining room holding up a vase for the flowers, her excitement undimmed.

Jay’s dad appeared a moment later, his face lighting up when he saw you. He looked like an older version of Jay, his smile warm and kind. He approached you with open arms, and before you could overthink it, he enveloped you in a hug that was somehow both firm and gentle. “It’s so wonderful to meet you in person,” he said, pulling back to look at you with a smile. You smiled shyly. “It’s wonderful to meet you, too, Mr. Park. And... thank you,” you added, your voice earnest. “For what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “For everything,” you said, glancing down for a moment before meeting his kind eyes again. “For helping when I was dealing with all of that mess online. I know you didn’t have to, but you did, and it meant the world to me. Truly." Jay’s dad waved a hand dismissively, though his expression remained warm. “Of course we helped. We couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. And I’m just glad you’re doing better now.” “Me too,” you said softly, your voice laced with gratitude. His dad smiled, then glanced toward Jay, who was leaning casually against the counter, watching the exchange. There was a glint of mischief in his dad’s eyes as he turned back to you. “You know, you’re the first girl Jay’s ever brought home to meet us.” Your eyes widened slightly, and you glanced at Jay, who immediately straightened, his casual demeanor cracking just a bit.

“Dad,” he said, his voice slightly strained. “He always told us as a teenager that the first girl he’d bring home would be the one he planned to marry.”, his dad said with a chuckle. “Dad!” Jay said, louder this time, his ears turning a distinct shade of red. You blinked, momentarily stunned, before a small laugh escaped you.  “Did he really?” you asked, glancing at Jay with a teasing smile. “Oh, he was very adamant about it,” his dad continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Said it every time we asked why he never dated anyone in high school.” Jay groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. “I was a kid,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know what I was talking about.” His mom appeared in the doorway, clearly having overheard. “Well, kid or not, you’ve always been a man of your word,” she said with a knowing smile. You couldn’t help but laugh, though your heart was racing at the implications of what his parents were saying. You glanced at Jay, whose flushed face and shy smile were a far cry from his usual confident self. “Is that true, Jay?” you teased gently, your eyes sparkling. He met your gaze, his cheeks still tinged pink, but there was a steadiness in his eyes that made your breath catch. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice low but sincere. “But I didn’t expect my parents to ambush me with it the first time I brought you here.” His dad laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’re just happy to see you this way, son. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked this content.” Jay gave a small, embarrassed smile but didn’t deny it “Well, now that we’ve embarrassed Jay enough for one evening,” his mom said, stepping forward with a twinkle in her eye, “why don’t we get started with dinner? I hope you like Galbi JJim Y/N.” “I do Mrs. Park.”, you said while sliding into the chair next to Jay, grabbing his hand under the dinner table as his parents started excitedly talking about how they were so glad to meet you. He gave it a slight squeeze. 

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love PS: everybody who knows what books I am referencing gets a bick smack on the cheek! Peek book taste!

[asvterias]

DEENA JOHNSON LOVERS READ THIS RN!!!!

Girls like girls

Deena Johnson x fem reader

You moved to Shadyside a few months ago, you've heard about about this town being a shithole, and some sort of witch called Sarah Fier possessing people turning them to killers which sounds stupid in Y/n's opinion.

Her Dad died when she was 13, it shattered y/n's heart, her mom became a alcoholic, so y/n had to support herself.

Y/n's Mother had move to Shadyside for a fresh start, Y/n thought moving to Shadyside would be the worse idea, But she actually met three amazing people that changed her life.

Y/n met Kate through cheerleaders, she was your first best friend, but one secret Kate told you was that she sells drugs with her other best friend Simon, so they could leave Shadyside one day.

Y/n was totally supportive of that and she also met Simon, Simon and y/n's friendship was very flirty they would often flirt and mess around with each other. Y/n had a crush on Simon at first but he had eyes for another girl at school so she knew it would never work, but she still loved Simon as a bestie, He cheered y/n up when she was sad and he was the life of the party.

But the one person that stood out to Y/n was Deena Johnson, She seen Deena in band, Y/n thought she was the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen, her freckles and curly hair. Kate introduced you to Deena. Y/n was very nervous and she felt like she was going to melt.

You thought you weren't going to be close to Deena but in the end you and Deena were very close, you guys talk about Shadyside, you both hang out alot after-school, you both listen to The pixies.

Y/n wanted to make a move to ask Deena out and tell her that she liked her but, Deena started dating Sam. Deena was very happy and y/n loved seeing her happy but she doesn't feel happy that she with someone else.

Deena and Sam had been dating for six months until they broke up since Sam moved to sunnyvale.

Y/n was there for Deena when Deena needed a shoulder to cry on. She was there for Denna and and her little ''Fuck Sam" phase. You know how much Deena was angry at Sam bit you knew she still loved her and would never get over her, Deena even quit band because of her.

But she got back into band since Sunnyvale is hosting a candlelight vigil for the victims, so players, cheerleaders, and band had to go.

God you hated those stuck up Sunnyvale pricks

You made it inside the bus, seeing people amped up, and all up in your face, which you were very annoyed with, so you saw Deena and sat next to her.

"Hey." Y/n said to Deena.

"Hey." Deena responded.

"I don't wanna fucking do this." Deena said.

" Trust me, me too, I'd rater be at home listening to music, not going to Prissyvale." Y/n said rolling her eyes.

" I don't want to go there but I have to because I have to give this to someone that I used to- it doesn't fucking matter anyway." Deena said mentioning to the box on her lap, which contains pictures and stuff with her and Sam. Y/n wished she was with Deena before Sam did.

It was silent on the bus ride y/n looked out the window seeing Sunnyvale.

As the bus driver stopped infront of Sunnyvale high-school everyone got out of the school bus and made it to the football field.

Kate walked up to Y/n. " I know you like Deena." Kate said to Y/n straight fowardly.

" What? Is it really that obvious?" Y/n said to Kate questionly.

" Duh, I saw the way you looked at her when you first met her, you look like it was love at first sight." Kate said smiling at Y/n.

"Well, it's not love at first sight since she's stuck up on Sam." Y/n said

" Don't worry, you'll find someone, and if you don't you always have me." Kate said jokingly.

" Shut up." Y/n said as she blushes at the short girl.

Y/n stands next to Deena, Y/n saw Deena looking for someone in the crowd to see Sam with this guy wrapping his arms around her.

Deena looked heartbroken she wanted to be sucked up in a black dark hole and disappear.

Deena left the football field, which made Y/n feel bad for her.

Y/n followed after Deena seeing her sitting down in the corner of a wall.

" What's wrong?" Y/n said as she sees her crying.

"Oh, you know Shadyside being a shithole, Seeing someone you use to know with someone else." Deena said sarcastically as she laughs wiping away her tears.

Y/n comes over to Deena sitting right next to.

" I can't belive that she can just pretend like we weren't together and put up this bullshit facade ever since she moved to Sunnyvale, it was like she was ashamed to even say we were together, like I didn't matter to her, I was gonna give her this box of memories we had together but all I want to do is set it on fire." Deena said feeling anger rise up.

"Maybe you need to let her go." Y/n said to Deena.

Deena gets up scoffing as she rolls her eyes as she gets up looking at y/n.

" Do you think it's that easy, she had a impact of my life, and you just expect me to let it go, God that was really fucked up to say Y/n." Deena said angrily

" I'm just saying she made you felt like shit ever sine you guys broke up, you literally quit band because of her, she literally has a impact of your life that you need to let go of, can't you fucking see." Y/n said defending herself.

" Why did you want me to let go of her?" Deena said questioning Y/n.

" I don't want to talk about it." Y/n said as her heart beats rapidly as she wants to admit that she likes deena.

"No, tell me I mean you have so much blunt honesty to tell me to hurt my feelings, so please tell me Y/n." Deena said targeting Y/n.

" Because I fucking like you!!! Is that what you want me to say? I wanted to tell you I fucking like you for months, but you were to stuck up on sam, that I felt like I was gonna loose you, I know how much you miss her but I just can't stand you talk about her." Y/n confessed as tears come out of her eyes.

Deena didn't say something as she looks at Y/n in her eyes.

" Deena, please say something... you know what I'm gonna go, and leave you alo-" Y/n was cut off as Deena kisses Y/n passionately cupping her face softly.

Y/n kisses Deena back as she waited for this moment to happen ever since she met Deena.

" I'm so gucking sorry, Y/n i was so stuck up on Sam that I didn't realize how much it affected you, I really liked you when I first met but I was so blinded by Sam and how much I wanted to be with her, I really liked you too but I was too scared to admit it and was so stuck on sam." Denna confesses as shevlooks at Y/n teary eyes.

" When we're done with this, can we eat cheeseburgers and listen to The Pixies and sing our hearts out." Y/n smiles, laughing with tears in her eyes as Deena laughs with her.

"I would love that, and your right I need to move on from Sam and focus on the good side of my life which is you, and I'm sorry for my attitude, that was very bitchy of me." Deena apologized.

" It's OK I've heard worse." Y/n said smiling at Deena.

Deena kissed Y/n again as she rested her forehead on Y/n's

"Y/n L/n, will you be my girlfriend." Deena asked.

" Of course." Y/n said pecking Deena on the lips.

Deena walked hand in hand as they make it back to the football field.