#Taps the imaginary friend

[hunter-the-sad-skeleton]

Pss pss pss, moots, new blorbos dropped, what's the verdict?(Reblogs appreciated!)(Also help I need to think of a name for the puzzle guy but I can't-)

[stevieschrodinger]

Part one

Steve’s alone with fish guy, and it’s the perfect time to make his second attempt. For the first time Steve figures the guy must finally be relaxing, if only a tiny bit. The frozen peas were a massive hit, and maybe that’s helping. Being hungry like that must be really shitty, especially if it’s for a long time, like Steve suspects from the look of fish guy.

Maybe fish guy is starting to realize that this isn’t the labs under Starcourt any more. That Steve and his friends aren’t here to hurt fish guy.

Steve flicks another pea off into the water as he drinks his coffee; fish guy retrieves it in a flash, his eel like black tail easy to spot in the water, quickly coming back for more.

The kids keep calling him a merman - but he doesn't look like any cartoon or kids picture Steve's ever seen. His tail is too flat, for one, definitely more like an eel, plus there's no fins that Steve can see.

Steve offers him a handful of peas, carefully cupping them until fish guy has his hands cupped underneath, ready for them to be tipped in. They don’t touch, and Steve vaguely wonders if the guy will feel cold from the water. The skin of his fingers isn’t pruned like a regular persons would be, which makes sense since he’s a fish guy. Maybe he’ll feel clammy, or rubbery. Or scaly. Steve van very vaguely remember petting a stingray in a low tank at the aquarium once, surrounded by other kids. Might have been a field trip or something, but he can remember how surprised he was by the feeling of the mottled brown skin. Super rough, like sandpaper. Fish guy doesn’t look like he’ll feel like that either, though.

Fish guy eats his handful of peas and then looks back to Steve expectantly; or at least, that’s what he’d call it on a human person. It must be the same sort of thing though, right? The top half, at least, is built the same, right?

Steve’s down to his last handful of frozen peas; he’s already called Robin, she’s going to pick up a bunch of groceries of the green variety on her way over after her shift later. Also a few other bits, like carrots and bell peppers, to see if fish guy will try them.

Steve holds up a single pea between his thumb and pointer finger. Fish guy’s eyes track it from where he floats, a foot away from the ledge. Steve taps his chest, “Steve,” and then he points to fish guy.

Like last night, he comes a little closer, lifting out of the waster a little and then, cautiously points at Steve, he makes a noise that...kind of...sounds like ‘Steve’. His voice is raspy, and the word is kind of mangled, more of a sad ‘Steee,’ but near enough. It looks like he’s really trying, brow furrowed with concentration.

It’s not what Steve wanted, but Steve gives him the pea.

It’s overcast today, same as yesterday, and the day before. Blowy and cold. Steve doesn’t want to stay out here much longer, so he dumps the remaining peas into the water and then gets up and heads inside to wait for Robin.

Steve’s nearly at the door when he hears a splash and then a mournful, “Steeeeeeeeee.” and immediately regrets all of his life choices.

He sighs, and goes back to the pool, “yeah?”

Fish guy tilts his head, frowning, and then lifts his had out of the water, pointer finger and thumb a smidge apart...just like he’s holding an imaginary pea.

Well. Communication is definitely something they will be able to work on then. But Steve flaps the bag, showing the picture of the peas on the front, and the face that it’s very clearly empty, “all gone. Finished,” Steve makes a cutting motion in the air with the side of his hand, to indicate they’re done.

“Inied,” the fish guy manages cautiously.

“Yeah, finished.”

The fish guy watches him for a second, and then dips back down under the water, off too huddle in the bottom corner of the pool.

Steve wonders vaguely if he’s still hungry, but hopefully it won’t be that much longer before Robin gets here.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who really, genuinely likes celery.”

“Me neither, it’s like peppery water.”

“With hair in.”

Fish guy though, very clearly, likes the celery. He didn’t quibble over the cucumber either, that disappeared very quickly. He was cautious about the carrots, but with a little encouragement, and a lot of sniffing, he ate the bottom half of one, not seeming to like it so much at the thicker end.

Steve hands him an entire bell pepper, watches as fish guy takes a bite. He seems to like it, but then pulls a face, scraping desperately at the seeds on his tongue and spitting the whole mess out into the water. Steve can’t help laughing. Fish guy looks affronted. The look of genuine distaste and irritation on his face is very human and also hilariously funny.

“Oh Steve, I think you offended him,” Steve wipes the tears away to see that Robin is right, and fish guy has gone to huddle in the far corner of the pool, only his eyes peeking out. That’s got to suck, having no where to go. No where to hide; no privacy at all.

“This has got to suck for him; he’s stuck in an empty box,” Steve tries to imagine living his entire existence in a completely empty room; he can’t, not really.

“Well what can we even do with him? He seems to be freshwater, so the oceans are out. Even if we let him go in a lake, we don’t know what he understands about people, if he got caught…” she trails off. Steve doesn’t need any help imagining what could happen.

“I don’t know but...we need a plan...and he needs something to do.”

“What like, enrichment for his enclosure?”

It’s the first sunny day for a while. Steve had been getting resentful about it but a bit of warm sunshine is starting to make up for it already.

Steve looks uncertainly down at the bucket of dollar store toys he’s paid for. Doesn’t matter that the kids picked them all out, apparently Steve is still the money in this operation.

Plus gas; they had to travel further since the mall is now a fenced off ruin.

All the kids are on their knees at one end of the pool; all of them holding something. There’s a slinky (he can play with it along the edge), a Rubik’s cube (water proof, and we might be able to figure out if he can see color), a bucket, a plastic dog bowl (it’ll float, you can fill it with peas), a rubber duck, and a ball.

Fish guy, on the other hand, had retreated to the furthest corner he could, curled up into a ball, and stayed there.

Steve’s starting to suspect that the noise of the kids constant chatter and bickering is actually a bit too much for fish guy to handle, from the way he either hides or watches them wearily from the other end of the pool. If they move, he moves.

“Maybe if we spread out, then one of use will be close enough because he won’t have anywhere to go-”

“Absolutely not,” Steve tells Dustin, “that’s cruel, if he’s hiding it’s for a reason. Just let the stuff be and he will deal with it when he’s ready.”

He gets a little bit of whining from them, mostly Will and Dustin, if he’s honest, all the other kids seem to be really understanding.

The ball and the bucket they let go to float around in the water, and the kids soon loose interest and head off to cause trouble elsewhere.

Steve desperately wants to dip his feet in the pool, same as he would on any other day, but since there’s someone living in it, it feels kind of rude. Like he’d be knowingly walking mud into someone's house, or something.

Steve kneels at the same end of the pool the kids were at, he doesn’t want to startle fish guy by appearing right above him. If he comes to Steve or not should be his choice, but Steve has two bunches of celery and a dog food bowl filled to the brim with frozen peas, so he thinks his chances are pretty good right now.

He’s right, fish guy does come over, but his whole face is scrunched up and he misses the celery on the first try; it takes Steve an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure it out, even with the guy eating with his eyes pretty much closed.

It’s the first fully sunny day they’ve had, and the guy had been in a shitty artificially lit lab, and before that, presumably the Upside Down for his whole life.

It’s fucking bright out here.

And even as he takes his sunglasses off, Steve has no idea how to communicate this with fish guy.

Steve has the bowl of peas for leverage, but still. He shows them to fish guy, who, squinting, does come closer. And then Steve hands over the glasses. Fish guy, face all scrunched up, tilts his head, looking at them.

Steve takes them back, put them on, takes the off, and offers them again. Ever so carefully and slowly, fish guy takes the glasses. Steve knows fish guy is at least kind of smart; he’s confident he will figure this out. He’s proved correct pretty fast when fish guy holds them up so he can blink up through the lenses.

And then he...very carefully, almost comically carefully, slides them on.

He grins up at Steve, and Steve floats the dog bowl in the water, giving it a nudge.

Fish guy looks delighted.

Part Three

[bbyquokka]

nerd in love

– after a misunderstanding, jisung finally tells yn how he feels at his birthday party .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | mutual pining , fluff , uni au – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | she/her pronouns used ; mostly in jisung pov ; food and alcohol mentioned ; a lil suggestive at the end

words | 10.1k ~ ( 10,133 )

notes | well, here it is! i started this before my break (which is why its so late) but finished it during my break n i just wanted to post it bc im proud of this n i adore this version of jisung n the friendship dynamics !! :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

your pen taps against the white, lined sheet of paper that has a few scribbles and doodles on. your cheek resting on your hand as you sigh a little in boredom. 

the professor has been groaning on and on about the same thing. you want to listen and take in the information as you know it's important, but your mind wanders and you start to daydream; making imaginary scenarios.

you'd imagine an alien suddenly abducting you because it heard your silent cries of boredom. you and the alien would become the best of friends, the alien showing you around it's space shuttle and inviting you to have some tea and cake before making friendship bracelets – because that's what humans do, right?

other times, you'd imagine a strong, buff greek god suddenly turning up in class. he'd walk to you and take your hand, claiming that you're his long lost bride, before carrying you bridal style and off into the sunset where you two would get married and have babies.

so caught up in your fake scenarios, you don't see that another student is now looking at you.

the student is sitting in front of you–his usual designated spot. black hair that's long and permed and covers his eyes. glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. dressed in a button up shirt and black jeans, paired with a few accessories and black doc marten boots.

“excuse me.” he whispers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “you're making too much noise.” he frowns.

you snap out of your daydream and sit up straight, wiping the imaginary drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“o-oh.. sorry jisung.” you laugh awkwardly. he tuts and rolls his eyes before facing the front. you scoff a little and sit back in your seat.

you don't have very many friends in university, a small handful but it's enough and you don't have very many enemies either, but since jisung started the same class as you, he's been cold towards you.

he's not like this with other people, just you–it's like he can't stand you.

but for some reason, his cold, mean demeanour just makes you want him and find him even more attractive.

it's not a kink of yours, to be spoken down to and degraded. in fact, you love having the attention on you and being treated kindly and gently so it's unknown to you why you find him so attractive.

“alright class! that's all for today. you're all dismissed.” the teacher says. you silently cheer, packing up your things in your backpack.

jisung rises to his feet and swings his bag onto his shoulder, letting it rest there before pulling out his phone. you both catch eye contact with each other.

“see you tomorrow?” you say politely and smile. jisung quickly looks away and mumbles something before walking out in a rush.

maybe you're still daydreaming, but you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. 

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“fuck, i’m so late!” you alternate between running and speed walking your way to your class. your alarm didn't go off this morning so when you finally awoke, it was up and out in a flash. “i'm so screwed!”

today is an important day. the teacher was going to go over a few things on a test that's due in a few weeks so you really needed to attend it to get an idea–but alas, here you are. hair disheveled, dried up drool on your chin and your socks mismatched with your backpack hanging off your shoulder.

you breathe a sigh of relief before stopping in front of the lecture hall doors. you take a deep breath and fix yourself up before reaching out to open the doors.

the doors suddenly swing open. the students exiting the hall. you stand in the middle of the students as they walk around you, engaging in conversations with their friends.

you frown in confusion, looking at the time on your phone. your eyes widen even more, bulging from the sockets.

“oh wow.. i really fucked up.” you were a lot later than you thought.

you look up to see jisung looking at his phone. today he's in a plain, black t-shirt and skinny jeans. a few chains hanging around his neck and converse.

“hey, ji!” you call out. he looks up at whoever is calling him before his face twists into disgust when he realises it's you. you ignore this, mainly because he rushes past you.

you frown and chase after him, trying to keep up with his speed–but he's too fast.

“hey! wait! i know you heard me, ji!!”

“don’t call me that. my name is jisung.” he mumbles.

“ok ok, sorry! just, i need help!” 

“find it elsewhere.” his tone of voice is cold towards you; like always. again, you ignore it.

“please, i’m desperate! my alarm didn't go off and i clearly missed class! i know it was super important too and–can you slow down and listen to me?!” you huff.

jisung lets out an irritated sigh and looks at you; phone in one hand, earphones in the other. he stops in the middle of the corridor and looks at you.

you bend down, hands on your knees to catch your breath. 

“you being late has nothing to do with me. it's your own fault for being late.” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, i know.”

“you fucked up and now you want my help? how could i possibly help you?”

“i need your notes.”

“my notes? fuck no.” 

“oh please, ji… sorry–jisung. i really, really need this.” you pout. jisung groans and rubs the back of his neck.

“ok, fine.” he sighs in defeat. you're taken aback by how easy it was for him to surrender his notes over to you; but you don't complain. he takes his notebook out of his bag and hands it to you. you cheer and open it up, looking at the notes.

his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are easy to follow, however, you've come to the realisation that looking at notes isn't going to be enough for you to get the information to stick in your mind.

“make sure to give it to me by the end of the day. i’m usually at the library.” he says as you flick through his notes. “if you can't find me, find minho. he's my roommate.” 

you don't respond due to the fact that so much information is causing your brain to go into information overload. jisung sighs again and, as he is about to walk away, you grab his arm.

“wait!” you make a quick mental note of how soft his skin is and how muscular he feels. jisung looks at your hand that's on him, feeling heat quickly rise to his cheeks and his heart to thumb erratically in his chest.

“your hand.” he whispers. you lean in close to get a better understanding of what he just said.

“pardon?”

“hand. your hand. please remove it.”

“oh!” you quickly remove your hand from him. jisung clears his throat and looks down, hoping that his long hair covers his face to hide the blush that's happily sitting on his cheeks.

you see it though and make a note of how adorable he looks. you feel your own heartbeat skipping beats and beating erratically but you put it down to you having to sprint to class.

“i don't think this will be enough.” you start. he looks up at you. “the notes.. i don't think it's going to be enough.”

“well, there's a library and also the internet. there’s this thing called google, so use that.”

“teach me.” his eyes widen in shock.

“t-teach you?! fuck no, yn!”

“please, jisung! just until the test is over! i really, really need this. i’m desperate and, although your notes are so perfect, it's going to take a lot more than notes for me to understand it!”

“then ask the tutor for a one-on-one! or ask your friend!!” he stutters in shock. his cheeks are now bright red.

“you know the tutor doesn't do one-on-ones and my friends don't even take this class! oh please, jisung. pleeeaseee. pretty pretty pleeease.” you pout, giving him puppy eyes.

“yn…”

“i’ll buy you your coffee everyday for a full month.”

“... just my coffee?”

“what sweet treat do you like?”

“...cheesecake.” he answers reluctantly.

“then coffee and cheesecake on me for a full month!” jisung runs his fingers through his hair slowly, a soft, defeated sigh leaving his lips as he contemplates.

“you really need this, huh.” you nod your head fast to the point of dizziness. “you drive a hard bargain, yn. but fine.”

you cheer and grin widely.

“on some conditions though.”

“what?”

“we study in the library, you don't be late and we only do this until the test is over! after that, i won't teach you anymore.”

“yes sir.” you salute. “oh, do you want my contact information? might make it easier to set up study dates.”

“study dates?” 

“yeah! i assume we have different schedules due to different classes, so it's better to text or call each other so we know when to meet up!”

“true.. ok, fine. give me.” you tell jisung your contact information. he phones you and you smile as you save his contact information.

“thank you so much, jisung! you're the best!” you say before sprinting off to find your friend leaving a flustered jisung bewildered in the middle of the corridor.

“study dates, huh.. i kinda like that.” 

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“dude, chill. you're just going to the library to study” jisung’s roommate laughs as he watches jisung scurrying around the place as he packs his bag. 

minho is relaxing on jisung’s bed, shirtless and in sweats with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose whilst eating an ice pop. him and jisung have been the best of friends since university started and he became jisung’s roommate.

since then, they've both been inseparable. many people speculate that something is going on between the two of them, indicating a relationship–minsung, they call them.

“i am chill.” jisung mumbles as he shoves in a few too many pens into his pencil case.

“yeah, suuuure.” minho laughs as he licks and sucks on his popsicle. “i’ve watched you run around the place like a headless chicken.”

“dude, please hush.” jisung looks at minho just as some sticky sweet ice drops onto minho's chest. he scoops it up with his fingers and eats it. jisungs sighs “do you have to eat that on my bed?”

“yeah. problem?” minho smirks

“yes. quite a few actually. you're going to get the sheets sticky!” jisung whines.

“not the first time i've heard that.” minho laughs at his own joke. jisung rolls his eyes but the corner of his lips turn upright into a smile as he holds back his laugh.

“you're disgusting.”

“yeah? and you're a mess right now, bro.” minho places the wooden popsicle stick on jisung's side table before swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.

he stands and walks to jisung, ruffling his hair a few times.

“you're just going to study, that's all. it's not that big of a deal, bro. unless….” minho smirks and wiggles his brows at jisung.

“unless what? what are you implying, minho?” jisung says as he crosses his arms across his chest and raises his brow.

“unless you, oh i don't know, like her.” jisung's eyes widen a little and he clears his throat, turning his head to avoid eye contact with minho. “aha!! i knew it! you do like ‘em!”

“no, i don't. fuck off, minho.” jisung mumbles and rushes to his desk, messing and organizing a few things to ‘look busy.’

minho skips over to jisung with a smirk. “c’mon ji. we all know you've been smitten with yn since the very beginning. it's soooo obvious!”

“dude, please. i don't like her like that. and it's jisung–not ji!”

“ahuh. whatever you say, dude.” minho laughs. 

“plus, she probably doesn't like me in that way..” jisung mumbles before sighing softly.

“have you asked her that?”

“well… no but–”

“then how do you know?” 

“i just do, ok?! enough with the questions, minho. don't you have that media assignment to do or something?”

“nope.” minho says, popping the p in an obnoxious way. “all done, which means i am a free man.”

“no one is a ‘free man’ in university, minho.” jisung laughs. 

“ugh, you're right. even though one assignment is done, i still have a gazillion more.” minho runs his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “speaking of which, i best start with at least one of them.”

“good luck, man. you'll do great.” jisung says sarcastically, paring it with a sarcastic grin.

“fuck you. good luck with yn, jisung.” minho turns around and walks out of jisung's bedroom. “hope you get laid!” he shouts.

“fuck you.” jisung laughs. minho sticks his middle finger up at jisung before laughing and closing his bedroom door.

with the last of his things packed, he zips up his back. he checks one last time in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying his best perfume onto his neck. he puts his hand up to his mouth, huffing on it before sniffing. pulling a face, he grabs a mint and pops it into his mouth, sucking on it as he puts on his shoes and a leather jacket.

“it’s just a study thing. it's not that serious. calm down, jisung.” he mumbles as he laces up his shoes.

but he can't stop his heartbeat from thumping loudly against his ribcage and excitement to rush through his body. his excitement is so big, it makes him shake. 

“it’s not a big deal. she probably doesn't like you that way.” he continues to mumble in an attempt to calm himself down as he takes one last look in the mirror. a smile slowly creeps up onto his face and a small squeal escapes from the back of his throat.

“fuck! i’m so screwed.” 

minho hears this and laughs at his friend's excitement before putting on his headphones. if there's one thing minho loves, is seeing his best friend happy and over the moon. he just hopes he won't get hurt.

“cute.” minho says to himself before typing away at his keyboard. jisung leaves the bedroom and shouts a goodbye to minho before heading out to the library.

nervous doesn't describe how jisung is feeling. as he walks to the library, his legs start to feel like jelly and the urge to turn back strong the closer he gets to his destination. he hopes that you're not there first just so he has time to calm himself down.

he even tries to listen to music in hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. but the soothing sounds of violins and cellos do nothing (he even tried listen to a few seconds of whale noises but even that was useless)

“we’re just studying. nothing more.” he repeats under his breath as he walks inside the library.

the place is nicely decorated, modern with a hint of an historic touch. students at tables and little cubicles, headphones on and studying. some in groups, whispering as they do projects of various kinds. some making the most of how quiet it is to take a quick nap. the occasional rustling of snack packets paired with the occasional crunch breaks the silence every so often.

it's silent but it's lively.

jisung says a few hellos to some students he recognises (either from classes they take together or them being minho's friends) as he searches the area for you.

his heart thumping as he searches. he silently cheers when he can't see you because he has a chance to calm down, but, as he walks to an empty table at the very back of the room, his victory is cut short as he sees you sitting there; ready and waiting.

you have your back to him (and to everyone else) and you're hunched over your notebook. jacket resting on the back seat with your bag on the floor, by your side. jisung takes a quick, small peek over your shoulder to see what you're doing only to see small, quick doodles on the page from boredom.

his heart swells a little as it's another thing he's learnt about you. just when he thinks you couldn't get any more perfect.

“hey, yn.” he whispers only to realise that you won't hear him no matter how many times he calls for you due to the music that's blasting from your earphones. he makes a quick mental note of who you're listening to before trying to get your attention again.

“hey, yn.” he places his hand on your shoulder to which you jump at, causing jisung to jump at your reaction. you look behind you as you take out your earbuds, sighing in relief.

“jesus, jisung. you frightened me.” 

“sorry, yn. i didn't mean to.”

“no, it's ok. my music may have been a little too loud.” you laugh as you put them away and jisung sits next to you on one of the chairs.

“you know you'll get tinnitus if you keep doing that.” 

“yeah… i know. it's a bad habit but music sounds better loud, y‘know!” jisung nods in agreement before pulling out his notebook and pencil case.

you watch him lean down. you take the time to admire him. his hair soft and fluffy. you have to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. a faint smell of strawberries and flowers emits from his hair; a sickly sweet yet pleasant smell.

his skin is dewy and perfect; not a blemish in sight. a beauty mark sits close to his lips. it's a small mark so it's no wonder you never recognised it before.

you notice the way his biceps bulge and flex with every motion of his arms. the chains from his neck dangle a little and his aftershave wafts towards you and tickles your nose hairs.

“you smell so good.“ you mumble. jisung looks at you.

“excuse me?”

“you smell so fucking good.” you repeat and lean in close to him. your hair tickles his jawline and chin as you smell the skin of his neck. “what do you use?”

“...i–urm, i don't know. i just picked it up when i was shopping.” you hum and nod. jisungs soft cheeks slowly start to feel very hot. “personal space, yn. ever heard of it?”

“oh!! sorry. my bad. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” you laugh awkwardly as a awkward silence falls upon you both.

jisung turns his head away from you so you can't see him but his cheeks are very red and hot as his heart beats fast. 

you were so close to him. so very, very close. he thought he was going to have a heart attack. he could smell you and to him, you smell so delicious and sweet; like vanilla cheesecake. 

“this is not good for my heart.” he mumbles to himself. 

“by the way” you begin. jisung looks at you. you slide a cold coffee and cheesecake in the middle of you both. “told you i’d stick to my end of the bargain.”

“i didn't expect you to do it so soon, yn. it's only the first session.”

you shrug. “a deals a deal.” jisung takes the cheesecake and coffee, sipping on it and humming softly as the bitter, cold taste coats his tastebuds and the caffeine enters his system.

“i didn't know what flavoured cheesecake you like so i hope it's ok.”

“what flavour is it?”

“strawberry”

“mhm, not bad.”

“you don't like strawberry?” you say with a small pout. he shrugs.

“it's fine. not the worst. but it's too sweet for me. i’m a vanilla kinda guy.”

“aah, ok. i’ll make a mental note of that.” you say as you tap your temple, laughing softly. jisung lets out a small puff of air from his nose. you see the corner of his lips curl into a small and that makes you feel like he's accepted you.

“now, enough chitchat. i actually want to be done in a decent time so, let's begin?”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“sooooo” jisung looks up at minho, his chopsticks half hanging from his mouth, resting on his bottom lip.

the smell of spicy, instant ramen fills the air. minho cooked some food for the two of them as they have both been studying hard for upcoming tests and assignments. 

instant ramen with a slice of cheese on top. rice cakes, fish cakes and other yummy goodnesss swim in the broth. the kitchen looks a mess, pots and pans scattered everywhere–it contributes to the rest of the dorm with the various clothing and shoes scattered around.

“soooo…” jisung repeats, eyebrows raised. his bangs are tied back in a pink hair tie (your pink hair tie), a white vest top and sweats on his body. minho is also in sweats but with an anime print t-shirt and a sanrio clip to hold back his bangs and a pore strip on his nose; getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“have you asked her yet?”

“asked her what?” jisung takes some noodles and a fish cake, putting them on a small, separate plate before grabbing some kimchi.

“dude.” minho rolls his eyes and lets out a long, irritable groan. “for being smart, you sure are dumb.”

“you're just dumb through and through.” jisung smiles playfully as minho sticks his middle finger up at his best friend.

“fuck you.” minho takes a rice cake that's soaked in the ramen broth. he chews it, the sound of sticky, chewy rice cake emits from his mouth. “anyways! have you asked yn about the party?”

jisung lets out a slow grunt. “not this again, minho.” 

“what?!” minho says with a shrug as he continues to chew and talk.

“i already told you, and eeeeveryone else. i don't want a party or anything of the sort, minho. i just want it to be a nice, quiet day.” jisung’s eyes drift to the half chewed rice cake that's being tossed around in minho's mouth. he pulls a face in disgust. “and can you please not talk with your mouth full?”

“you're such a prude.” minho rolls his eyes but swallows his food regardless. “anyways, you know me, changbin and chan won't let you have a quiet birthday!”

“yeah, no shit.” jisung rolls his eyes as he slurps on his noodles. he wipes his mouth with a napkin before munching on some kimchi. “still don't understand why you all decided to plan a birthday party without my knowledge knowing full well i said no in the beginning.”

“dude, you're so boring.” minho jests. “it's your birthday!” he emphasise. “you're supposed to have a party, eat lots of cake and junk. drink beer, hang out with friends and maybe, get laid.”

he wiggles his eyebrows at jisung and laughs softly. with a heavy sigh, jisung puts his chopsticks down.

“no matter what, you're going to go through with this, aren't you?” 

“yup!” minho obnoxiously pops the P. “plus, things have already been ordered and organised for it. we already have a few people who confirmed they're attending.”

“who?”

“mhm–” minho puts down his chopsticks and thinks, looking at the ceiling as he does. “felix from fashion design. hyunjin from art. seungmin from business studies and jeongin who is also from fashion design.”

“how do you know all these people?”

“well, unlike some–” minho's eyes widen as he looks at jisung, indicating he's talking about him in particular “–some of us actually get out. plus, chan is like a social butterfly and changbin is charismatic. put them two together and well, people can't say no.”

“yeah, true. i remember when they begged me to work on a track or something for their music assignment.” 

“they both practically dragged you to do it.” minho laughs.

“only because you told them i said yes without me knowing about the situation!”

“because i knew you'd say no! you have a talent for this stuff, jisung. don't let it go to waste.”

“thanks.” he mumbles, hanging his head low in embarrassment and awkwardness.

“is that… is that a blush i see?!” minho smirks.

“me? blush? for you?! hell no!” jisung frowns. “the ramen is spicy, that's all.”

“dude… it's mild.”

“...fuck you.”

“so, are you going to ask yn or nah?”

“if it gets you and everyone else off my back, then sure”

“good. make sure you do!” jisung opens and closes his hand, mimicking minho's yapping.

“yeah yeah yeah. can we stop talking about this party and eat?”

“just looking out for ya, man. i know how much you like ‘em!” 

“i know. i appreciate it, minho.” minho nods and continues eating the ramen. jisung, on the other hand, is now lost in thought.

how the hell is he going to get the courage to ask you something like that?

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

the study sessions are slowly coming to end. you kept up with your end of the deal, providing jisung with an endless amount of coffees and cheesecakes whilst he has provided you with an endless amount of insights.

one thing you have learnt about him is that he is smart. he knows how to do things with just a quick glance. he's good at explaining things so it's not confusing. 

you've been stuck on a problem for some time and no amount of teachers advice and youtube videos helped you. all it took was five minutes of jisung explaining the solution and it clicked.

today, however, you are alone in the library. jisung messaged you to let you know that he wasn't going to make it. you felt sad and a little heartbroken–you’ve become so accustomed to jisung's presence that you feel a little cold and lonely right now.

you can't concentrate. the music you're blasting down your ears isn't helping either. the text in your book is slowly starting to merge into one big splooge of text. the information just isn't getting through to you and it's frustrating.

you sit back in your seat and sigh as you take your headphones off and throw them on the table. 

“this is pointless.” you mumble. “i can't concentrate. maybe i should just skip it.”

you take your phone and browse through social media before subconsciously opening up the food app. your mouth salivates as you look at the various burgers, fries, pizza and sweet treats–and then your stomach growls.

“maybe i’m just hungry. that's why i can't concentrate.” you pack your things and head to the university cafeteria. the menu looks dull so you settle on a simple sandwich and drink.

the cafeteria is packed. the atmosphere is buzzing with the endless chatter of students. you take your seat and pick up your sandwich.

it's a standard ham salad sandwich with some dressing on. the slices of ham and lettuce (too much lettuce for that matter), tomatoes and other salad stuff squished together by two slices of thick, white bread, smothered in dressing.

you take a few bites. it's ok. it's not bad but you've had better. the bread is a little dry for your liking but the dressing takes that away. you open the cap of your bottled drink and take a few swigs to help wash it down.

“what do we have here?” you turn your head in the direction of the voice–that thick aussie accent you know all too well.

“ew. go away chan. you're disturbing my peace.” 

“charming. don't think that's something you should say to someone you haven't seen in a while.” he says with a pout as he walks to your table and sits down. he's joined by another man, a friend of his, perhaps. he sits opposite you.

“and whose fault is that, huh? maybe if you answered my calls or texts every once in a while.”

“sorry, yn. i’m just a busy man, y’know.” chan grins as he leans back in his seat, brimming with confidence.

“yeah. too busy being the campus whore.”

“blah blah blah. least i’m getting some.” he elbows you in the side a few times. “what are you getting, huh?” he jests.

“a degree? y'know that thing i came here for in the first place.”

“oh ha ha. very funny, yn.” chan mocks, rolling his eyes at you before stealing your sandwich and taking a bite.

the male opposite you clears his throat as a way of telling you both “hi, i’m still here.”

“oh! yn, this is minho. minho, yn.” minho's eyes widen a little and his lips twitch into a small smile.

“so, you're yn. nice to put a face to the name.“ he grins.

“you know me?” you blink a few times in confusion.

“i’m jisung’s roommate.” you mentally slap yourself. of course!

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i didn't realise! i’m so bad with names.” you whine. minho laughs and brushes it off.

“and how do you know jisung, yn?” chan says with a mouthful of food; your food to be exact. you glare at him, daggers darting out of your eyes and straight into chan as you snatch your sandwich back off him.

“jisung’s my private tutor as of right now.”

“oh.” chan nods before his eyes suddenly light up. he looks at minho for confirmation. “wait, hold up.”

minho nods and smirks. “nah. really?!” you watch the two men talk in code as they communicate by facial expressions and a stings of “ohs” and “yeahs”

“uh, hello. i’m still here!” minho laughs softly.

“sorry, yn.” you shrug it off and eat your sandwich. “how do you two know each other by the way. chan has never mentioned you before.”

“good. keep it that way.” you say coldly, mainly aiming it at chan. chan pouts and nuzzles into you, head on shoulder. he looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout.

“aww. don't be like that, bestie. you secretly love me.” you flick his forehead.

“me and chan are childhood friends. haven't been able to get rid of him since.” chan smiles at your sweet implication. “he's like a parasite. or a fruit fly in the summer.” his smile drops and now, it's your turn to give chan a big, sarcastic grin–teeth and all.

“rude.” he mumbles. you shrug and finish off your sandwich. 

“so, jisung is your tutor.” minho speaks. you nod.  “are you attending his party?” 

“party? what party?” you look at chan and minho. minho sighs a little and runs his fingers through his hair.

“i warned him.” he mumbles under his breath in irritation before looking at you and smiling softly. “me, chan and a few others are organising a birthday party for jisung.”

“his birthday is coming up?!” your eyes widen. “when? i should get him a gift”

“14th.”

“14th?! that's pretty soon.” you mumble.

“jisung told me he would invite you.” you shake your head no. minho rubs the back of his neck. “well, this is awkward.” 

“it’s ok. maybe he has his reasons as to why he didn't mention it to me. no biggie.” you say with a smile. minho nods before a few minutes of silence dawn upon the three of you.

“out of curiosity.” you break the silence. “how is jisung in general?” minho tilts his head to the side. “it's just he seems so….” you think for a second, thinking of the right (and nice) word to use “... cold towards me.”

“cold?” 

“mhm. he seems so bitter towards me and i don't know why. we barely even talked in class but when we did, he would always tell me i’m making too much noise and to hush.” you slowly start to feel slightly irritated. 

“jisung is fine with me.” he says with a. shrug. “he's pretty chill around me.” you huff.

“i know he can be friendly because whenever i see him in the corridors talking to someone, he smiles and is so friendly!”

“what’s he likes now, yn?”

“well, now that we've been spending more time with each other, he's… i don't know… avoiding me to some degree? he won't make eye contact with me. he doesn't like it when i touch him.”

chan raises his brow and looks at minho, both men thinking the same thing. chan puts you in a gentle headlock and ruffles your hair.

“hey!! get off me!!” you push chan a few times, using all your strength to make him release you.

“you're pretty naive, yn.” chan laughs, continuing to ruffle your hair. he ignores your screams and yells, minho laughing at the two of you.

finally, chan let's you go. you push him with all the strength you have left before fixing your hair and glaring at him. chan pouts and nuzzles into you once again.

“i’m sorry, yn. forgive me?” he puckers his lips and makes kissing noises, edging closer and closer to you. you hold him at arm's length.

“ok ok!! just quit doing that!!” chan laughs and pats your head gently.

as fast as he was in the cafeteria, jisung is soon out of it after seeing you and chan, with nothing but festering jealousy in his stomach.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

you bounce through the library to your designated spot at the very back, coffee and cheesecake in each hand with your bag swinging on your shoulder.

jisung is there, punctual, as always. but something seems a little off. the air around him seems thick and suffocating–dark even. 

“hey!” your cheerful voice ringing in his ears, making his heart beat fast. you sit next to him and slide over the coffee and cheesecake.

today he's dressed in a yellow and orange flannel shirt and white tank-top. black jeans and boots to accommodate. a few of his nails are painted in black, chipping from wear and tear.

he gives you a cold nod of the head. you frown a little but choose to ignore it as you take your books and pens out of your bag.

“so, what's the plan for today?” jisung shrugs. “...ok, well how about we go over that question i was struggling with?”

“k” he reluctantly moves closer to you. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafts towards you and tickles your nostrils, making you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

“you smell good, jisung.”

“mhm, thanks.” you let out a silent sigh. something is wrong with him and you don't know why. is it something you've done? something you haven't done? 

jisung is being very dry and sour with you. his usual method of teaching you is that he would go into detail and repeat until you'd understand it, today, however, he's very short and sharp.

“i don't understand.” you say. jisung sighs, a long irritated sigh. you bite your lip, thinking that you've done something to hurt him in any possible way.

“what don't you get?”

“all of it…” he sighs again and rubs his face. his eyebrows furrow together in irritation. the jealousy he is feeling in his stomach is festering, becoming more and more intense.

every time he looks at you, he is reminded of the way you and chan were together. he hates that. how could you fall for someone like chan? he thought you were better than that. his head swimming with negative and harsh thoughts.

before he can stop himself, the words just spill without any control. “why don't you get chan to do it for you.”

you blink. “chan? what does he have to do with this?”

“i mean, you two are close are you not?”

“i mean.. well, yeah, i guess.” you shrug. “he does get on my nerves sometimes though. he is such a pain! but he's a good gu–”

“i thought you were better than that, yn.’ he spits.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you feel the bubbling of rage in your stomach as you stare at jisung, who stares at you back. the jealousy has consumed his body and it's too late to back out now.

“as in, i thought you had standards. chan? of all people? he's a whore, yn. everyone knows that he sleeps around on campus and you chose him?!”

“i don't appreciate the way you're talking about him, jisung.”

“it’s the truth, yn! and you know it so why are you with him?! you can do sooo much better than him!!”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “then who is good for me, mhm? please, enlighten me?” 

jisung freezes. he looks away and chews his bottom lip. you scoff and pack your things in a hurry.

“i don't have to listen to this bullshit. you've been in a shit mood with me this whole time, which is fine. everyone has bad days. what's not ok, however, is you taking it out on me and bad mouthing the people i care about.” you stand up, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. jisung stares at one spot of the desk, burning holes into it. “text me when you're in a better mood.”

you walk out, leaving jisung to think about what he has just done.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“jisunggggg. sungieeee. knock, knock. let me innn!” the sound of minho's high-pitched, cheery voice irritates jisung to the bone. he lets out a slow and irritated groan, hot puffs of air slowly exhaling from his nostrils.

he pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his fingers through his unwashed hair. sitting at his desk in the same baggy band t-shirt and sweats from a few days ago, he checks his phone for the nth time, only to be disappointed.

he hasn't spoken to you nor seen you since that day. in class, it's worse. he's tried to catch your eye a few times, smiling when he does, only for you to turn away. he spent days loathing in his own self pity, locking himself up in his room and only coming out for food, bathroom breaks and class.

minho has had enough. not only is jisung's mood ruining the atmosphere, but minho has no idea as to what happened that day. he was home when jisung came back to the dorm, looking like he was on the verge of tears. 

when he asked, jisung always gave the same answer of “mind your own business.”–and he has; for several days now.

“let me in, jisung.” the repetitive sounds of minho's knuckles against the wood door cause jisung's stomach to bubble more intensely with anger–until he finally snaps.

he rushes to the door and swings it open, brows furrowed together. minho's smug grin makes him foam at the mouth.

“what part of leave me alone don't you understand, minho?” jisung's words dripping with poison. minho shrugs it off.

“all of it.” he pushes past jisung, making himself at home in his bedroom. jisung has no time to protest, all he can do is watch his best friend jump on his bed and rest on his back, arms behind his head.

with a heavy sigh, jisung walks back to his desk. he turns his back on him, hoping that if he ignores his friend, he will get bored and eventually leave. minho watches his friend pick up and put down his phone several times to the point where minho feels irritated by it.

“so?” minho starts

“so?” jisung repeats

“going to tell me what's happened? haven't seen you this down in a while.”

“nope. i'm good.”

“you can't keep moping around the place, jisung.”

“i can and i will.” minho groans and stands up, walking out of the bedroom. jisung mentally cheers only for it to be cut short when minho throws his jacket at jisung.

“put it on.” it's more of a demand than a sentence, but nonetheless, jisung obliges because if he doesn't, minho will force it on him.

“where are we going?”

“to the cafe.” minho puts on his shoes, jisung following suit.

“aah, dude.. i don't really fe–”

“shut up, we're going to the cafe whether you want to or not. a change of scenery might cheer your moody ass up because, to be quite honest, i’m tired of seeing your gloomy ass face.” he looks at jisung who is frowning at him. “in the nicest way possible, of course.”

jisung rolls his eyes before following minho to the local (and one of his favourite) cafes. 

it's a small, local café with an old fashioned sense of style to it. the tables and chairs are worn. cushions on the chairs losing their stuffing and the tables scratched and chipped. the décor is outdated, indicating that the caf�� has been there for quite a few years; but it feels like home to some.

the bell above the door chimes as minho and jisung walk in. they walk to the counter and say their orders before taking their lunch and drinks and sitting at a table.

jisung takes a sip of the coffee. he feels the ice cold beverage trickling down his esophagus and into his empty stomach. minho munches on his chicken salad sandwich, watching his friend look in his drink and ponder.

“i fucked up.” jisung mumbles, lost in thought. the more he thinks about you, the more he can feel the tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. minho tilts his head to the side and as he is about to open his mouth and encourage his friend to continue, a familiar sound in the form of a laugh causes jisung's head to shoot up and look in that direction.

his eyes widen. he feels relief and happy to see a smile finally on your face; but then that same, the green monster in the form of jealousy parks itself on his shoulder and starts whispering in his ear.

minho watches jisung's jaw muscles clench. his facial expression goes from relief to jealousy. minho follows jisung's gaze and raises his brow at the sight of you and chan.

chan is being his usual, goofy self. he's telling you typical dad jokes and being a little grotest by telling you his latest hook-up details. you push him by the arm and roll your eyes, sipping your coffee in the process. chan continues to joke around with you, play fighting a little by wrapping his arm around the back of your neck loosely and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles.

“i can't fucking stand this.” jisung mutters bitterly under his breath. minho turns and looks at his friend who is green with jealousy.

“stand what?”

“seeing someone as precious and innocent as yn be with someone like chan!” minho blinks a few times.

“what do you… jisung, what do you think yn and chans relationship is?”

“isnt it obvious? they're going out!” minho gives jisung a few blank stares and blinks before bursting out into laughter, choking on his own saliva in the process. “what?!” 

jisungs cheeks flush red with embarrassment but also with anger. his own friend laughing at his statement, finding amusement in his sorrows.

“are you serious? please tell me you're joking?” minho stutters through his giggles.

“dead serious.” jisung says, deadpan. “don't you see the way they are with each other? i saw you all the other day, in the cafeteria! chan's arm around yn and them being all…. lovey!!” 

“oh my god.” minho calms himself down. “you really are serious!”

“i told you! i even asked yn about it and well… it didn't go so well.”

“is that why you've been so moody and upset lately?” jisung nods his head slowly, feeling some type of guilt. minho sighs heavily, wondering how he can soften the blow of the news he's about to give his best friend.

“jisung…” minho starts. “yn and chan are not dating.” jisung's face drops.

“excuse me?”

“they're not dating. they're just childhood best friends. apparently they've known each other since they were kids. “

“so you're telling me.. that i got it all wrong when i saw you three in the cafeteria?“ minho slowly nods whilst giving a sympathetic smile. jisung sits back in his seat in disbelief. “why did chan never mention yn?! fuck, i fucked up… i really, really fucked up…” 

“oh, c’mon. it can't be that bad.” minho tries to lighten the situation.

“dude. i told her i thought she had standards! i called her best friend a whore!”

“i mean, chan is a whore. he knows he is and he doesn't hid–”

“dude, please.” jisung interrupts. “not right now.” minho shrugs and sips his coffee whilst jisung rubs his face whilst groaning. “what do i do?”

“well.” minho puts down his coffee. “you make it right. admit you were in the wrong. explain how you were a jealous lil guy because you like her and that you fucked up.”

“and how do i do that? she’s been avoiding me for weeks and it’s not like i can go up to her right now and be like oh hey yn, sorry i called your best friend a whore oh, by the way, i like you.” jisung mocks himself in a high pitched voice, his face turning red in frustration.

“you're so dramatic.” minho rolls his eyes with a soft, yet heavy sigh. “for a smart guy, you're pretty dumb too.”

“pft, am not!” jisung scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. “... only when it comes to stuff like this.” he mumbles. “i just… don't know what to do or how to fix it. i really, really like her, minho.”

“ok? and? what do you want me to do about it? there's no point telling me about your feelings for yn. i'm not the one that fucked up and then decided to hold myself up in my room to drown in my own self-pity.” minho says with a shrug.

to the outside world, minho's words sound harsh but to jisung, it's a reality check. 

he sighs softly for the nth time as he glances over at you. he watches you laugh and smile with chan, soaking in your beauty and the way you glow with happiness. 

“to make it easier for you.” minho breaks the few seconds of silence between the two, feeling a little responsible for his friend in need. “i may have mentioned your birthday party to yn.”

“what?! why?”

“bro, you weren't going to mention it! so i just.. did you a favour.” minho shrugs, a smug look on his face.

“... is she coming?”

minho shrugs. “dunno. she seemed interested at least but this was before you called her best friend a whore so–”

“that was an accident. i didn't mean to.. i just got too–”

“worked up? jealous perhaps?” minho says, or rather states, with a raised brow. jisung hums and nods his head slowly, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. 

minho chews on his straw as he watches his friend think. he can see the cogs turning in jisung's skull. jisung is inexperienced when it comes to relationships so seeing him like this, brings minho slight amusement.

“look, jisung. if she turns up, you approach her and apologise whilst also telling her how you feel.” minho holds his hand up to jisung who is just about to protest but is quick to close his mouth and listen. “if she doesn't turn up, you find her the next day, apologise and tell her how you feel. heck, text her if you have to!”

“dude… you know i can't do that!”

“ok. then you have the other option, which is to keep wallowing in your self pity and watch yn from the sidelines.” minho shrugs. “i don't know dude. be the main character for once. you clearly like her so take the chance.”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

jisung's birthday rolled around. you haven't heard nor spoken to him since the argument so you didn't originally plan on turning up to his birthday party; but chan being chan is forcing you to go as his plus one.

“is this ok?” you smooth down your party outfit as you present yourself to chan. chan is sitting at your dressing table, dressed in blue, skinny jeans, a compression shirt that hugs and molds his muscles and combat boots. a silver chain around his neck, earrings in one ear and a few rings on his fingers.

he looks up from his phone and smirks playfully. he wolf whistles at you to which you scoff and roll your eyes at.

“looking good there, yn.”

“really? i threw this together at the last minute.’

“you look great, don't worry. you're gonna knock ‘em dead.” chan laughs.

“i really don't want to go, chan.” you groan.

“weeeell, too late. you're coming with me to this party, even if i have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

chan has heard about your little argument with jisung from minho. the two of them had a drink together during the week and chan listened to minho vent about jisung.

once minho mentioned the fight did it all come together. you've been feeling down and withdrawn, not knowing what to do or how to deal with your feelings. you've put on a fake smile and basically faked your way through the weeks–but chan has known you for years so he can see through you, he just didn't want to press you.

you'll come to him when the time is right; you always do.

“do i have to?” you ask for the nth time whilst putting on your shoes. chan laughs at your contradicting actions and shakes his head before standing up.

“yes, you do. it'll be fun and hopefully, it'll lift your spirits.” you pout.

“i have been a little moody lately, haven't i?” chan raises his brows and scoffs.

“a little!? pur-lease! i thought knives were going to spawn out of your eyes at one point.”

“mhm.. i’m sorry chan. it's just been a long couple of weeks with a lot of thinking.” you sigh softly. chan elbows your side gently.

“hey. let's not think about that right now. let's go to this party, have a couple of drinks and a dance, yeah?” you nod slowly.

“not like i have a say in this.”

“that's my girl. now.” chan grabs your hand gently and pulls you to the front door. “let's go have some fuuuun!!!”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

it's loud. the bass of the music rings in your ears and shakes the ground beneath you.

it smells. the stench of stale cigarettes, sweat and alcohol tickles your nostrils and causes you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.

you've tried several times to turn away and head back but chan was always right there.

chan abandoned you to go chat up some girls so you're sat on the sofa, surrounded by people making out, drinking or passing out (if they haven't already)

you hold your red, plastic solo cup which is filled halfway with some punch. the smell is pungent and the taste is awful. it's too strong for your liking so you take small, delicate sips.

as the night rolls on, you have yet to see jisung. not that you want to but, it would help you feel some comfort and less suffocated to see a familiar face.

you glance at your phone screen. 11:20 pm. it's soon time for you to leave. you don't want to be here any longer than you have to and considering that chan has left you alone, you don't feel the need to be here any more.

you stand up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. you shimmy your way in and out of crowds of people who are dancing, talking or making out with someone that they won't remember tomorrow.

you pour your drink down the sink and throw away your empty cup. as you're about to turn and leave, a familiar voice is heard from behind.

“yn. hi.”

you turn on your heels and a sense of relief washes over you as you come face to face with a face you've been longing to see (even if you don't want to admit it)

you forget why you're so angry at him for a split second. his beauty never fails to make you feel star struck and silently go “wow.” but then you remember.

“hi.” you reply coldly.

“can i talk to you?” he shouts, hoping his voice isn't drowned out by the music.

“not right now. i was just about to leave.” you walk past him to leave. jisung grabs your arm gently to stop you. you look at him and he is quick to remove his hand.

“please? just… let me explain…” he chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched together in the middle. you think for a second and sigh softly, nodding slowly.

“ok. fine. but make it quick.” you swear you see the corner of jisung's lips curl into a subtle smile, his eyes lighting up a little. he beckons you to follow him so you do.

you follow him outside. compared to inside, where it's hot and humid, the harsh, cold night air is refreshing and soothes your damp skin.

“look.” he starts as he stops walking to turn to you. “i know i was a complete asshole.” you scoff but don't say anything. “it's just… aah fuck, how do i say this.”

you watch jisung slowly become flustered. the tips of his ears turn red, his hands clammy as he shakes a little. he shuffles on his feet to shift his weight and avoids eye contact with you.

“fuck.. this is so hard… minho said it'd be easy once i get talking but fuck minho.” jisung rambles to himself. the anger you felt slowly disappears and is replaced with… joy? 

your stomach feels a little bubbly and tingly with excitement as you watch this nerd, whom you've grown so accustomed to, become easily flustered and shy because of you.

“just say what's on your mind, jisung.” you say with a shrug. his eyes flicker at you for a second before looking to the ground.

“ok.. well…” he takes a deep breath. ”i like you and i always have and the reason why i got so pissed and called chan a whore, who i later found out was your childhood best friend, was because i was jealous of how close he was to you and i saw red and i didn't mean it. in fact, i've been cooped up in my bedroom in my own self-pity because i'm a coward and i don't deserve someone as wonderful as you and i’m really sorry. can you forgive me for being a lil silly?”

you blink at him several times. jisung dared take a breath during his little speech so all the information that has suddenly been laid on you, isn't going through your head right now.

“ah fuck.. i fucked up again, haven't i?” jisung shakes, his voice wavering as it breaks the tension in the air. his nerves shaking his body as a shaky hand picks at the skin around his fingernails. “god i knew i shouldn't have said anything. why did i take minho's dumb advice.”

“i… i don't know what to say, jisung. it's all so much.” you say in pure shock.

“oh, that's ok! i’m not looking for an answer right now. please, take your time. i just wanted you to know my true feelings and why i acted out. the last thing i want is for you to feel forced.”

“so let me get this straight. the reason you acted out is because you got jealous of chan, thinking that we were dating?” you watch jisung slowly nod his head, his cheeks turning pink; whether that's from embarrassment or from the harsh cold air. “and that you.. like me?”

jisung nods again. “silly, right?” he laughs, trying to soothe himself of the raging anxiety that's heavy in his heart and stomach.

“no.. no! not at all. i think it's kinda… cute.” 

“cute?”

“yeah. i mean, well, being away from you has got me thinking about me, you and well.. us and how i feel.” jisung walks closer to you, closing the gap between you both.

“and how do you feel, yn?” you swallow a little. the atmosphere has suddenly shifted between you both. jisung is close to you, his body daring to press against you.

you can see every detail of his honey skin under the faint moonlight. the cold breeze sweeps between his hair strands. a faint hint of cinnamon and apple from his aftershave tickles and hugs your nose making you inhale deeply for more.

“at first, i was angry at you. i didn't understand why you were so angry. but i spoke to chan about it and during the conversation, he made me realise something.”

“what?” jisung encourages. he gingerly places his hands on your waist, unsure and testing the waters. his touch is as light as a feather and when you don't push him away, his grip becomes firm. 

“that maybe, i like you too and i have for the longest time. i just never realised it because i thought you hated me but, when we spent all that time together, i started to notice the smallest of things about you and i found them to be so cute. but they're cute because it's you.” 

you slowly run your hands up his chest to his shoulder. his breath hitches and body trembles from your touch. with more confidence, jisung pulls your body flush against his own, closing the gap completely.

“so, you like me too?” his voice dips to a whisper. you hum and nod slowly. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

“why don't you show me.” you whisper against his lips, teasing him by brushing yours against his slowly and gently. they feel soft and plump, kissable even. 

“you're playing a dangerous game, yn. you have no idea how long i've wanted you.”

“show me.” you whisper again, furthering your teasing by ever so lightly licking his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

“fuck.” jisung groans. his lips crash against yours in a heated kiss that's filled with longing. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. you melt into the kiss, the both of you becoming synchronised instantly.

you tilt your head to the side a little to allow jisung to deepen the kiss. he licks your bottom lip and you part your lips slowly.

his tongue slides in to meet yours and you're in a battle of dominance that you lose. jisung's hot kisses make you melt and crave for more. you forget about your surroundings, forget where you are. everything is a buzz in your ears and you can only focus on you, jisung and how your body is tingling and twitching.

jisung is the first to pull away. he pants heavily, his own body trembling with excitement. 

“wow.” you hum in agreement. as soon as his lips are off yours, you want them back on you again; whether that's on your own lips or on your body, you don't care as long as you get to feel the softness again.

“is this real?” he asks.

“it's real.” you respond, giggling softly. “and i’m not drunk either so.”

“so, what does this make us?” jisung cautiously asks. he wants to have an idea of what you two are slowly becoming. he wants to make sure you're both on the same page.

“whatever you want us to be, jisung.”

“well, i want you to be mine. i want to show you off to the world, proudly. i want everyone to know that you belong to me. i want to spend every single second of the day with you and during the night, i want to spend every single second caressing your body from head to toe. i want to soak myself in every single bit of detail from your body. i want to drown you in pleasure and my love.” 

you swallow and let out a small, shaky breath at the implications behind his words. your body trembles with excitement and anticipation from where tonight is going to end and for the future with jisung.

“then.. shall we go ditch the party and go back to mine? because i want that too.” with a fast nod of the head, jisung holds your hand and is quick to make way to yours.

“let's go and let's be quick. i want to make you mine, in more ways than one.”

[wonsroyalty]

predictable, 박종성

pairing/warnings - 2.3k,, spider-man!jay x f!reader, college/uni students, switch!jay x switch!f reader,, smut, blood, wounding 🔥

a/n: no fancy theme because i’m writing this on a whim: inspired by this tiktok i saw earlier, no doubt mv has actually changed me and i loveeeeee jay so enjoy🤗

masterlist

You sat in your bedroom tapping your pen unconsciously at your desk.

“I need the report in for tomorrow, Yn. You’ve already had a week.”… You remembered the head of the school newsletter scolding you earlier.

How on earth did she think that you could gain access to the football team in order to ask them about their frat lifestyle AND write up everything from your seven-hour interview as a small section in such a short amount of time.

You thought back to your best friend Jay.

He’d always had a way with words and you knew that if he were with you he’d say something like, “Sunghoon said he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because he literally threw himself at you during this interview, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame loser who doesn’t get any hoes because I fucked around and found out’, done!”

A giggle slipped from your lips at the thought of imaginary Jay but you quickly gained composure because the thought of having to pull an all nighter, in order to finish, didn’t seem appealing.

And the fact that Jay had turned down your plan of him helping you because he claimed he had “important business” whipped you into shape.

Ding!

7 messages from mother🐻

hey pumpkin!

i may be later than usual tonight

just been told to prep for emergency surgery

left your dinner in the oven to heat up

first aid kit above the front cabinet

don’t hurt yourself pls!!!

love you bye 🥰

You reacted with a heart and wished her luck then threw your phone onto your bed.

The upper half of your body slumped onto the desk.

“I’m so screwed.” you whispered in defeat.

Your phone then began to ring causing a loud groan to leave your throat as your body lugged itself to the source.

“Hey Jay, what’s up?” you sighed. “What do you want?”

“Open your window.” he panted out.

You could hear sirens in the background and Jay didn’t sound too good.

“Whats happening right now? Are you okay?”

“Open the window, please.” he begged. “Trust me, just open it!”

“I don’t trust you.” You joked. “Besides which one would I open, there’s three.”

Jay started shouting at someone on the other end of the line.

“Fuck!” he groaned in agony. “The- the one facing central park.”

“Uh.. okay. I just did it.”

“Step back! Like backkkk.” he warned.

“Moving back as I speak.” you sighed. “Is this the super important thing you had to do?”

You had spoken too soon.

A man precisely shot his body through the gap of your window then slammed it shut behind him and slumped onto the ground.

“Spider-man?! What the..” you stepped towards him tentatively. “Are you- wait Jay! Oh my, I think he’s hurt.”

You began to type out a message to the boy when Spider-man ripped his mask off.

“Jay Park?! You have got to be shitting me!” you gaped. “What the fuck?!”

Jay winced in pain as he shot a web at your jumper to pull you down towards him.

He’d pulled you off balance and while your legs straddled his hips, your hands fell onto the gaping wound in his abdomen.

“Stay down.” he whined. “Can’t let them see.”

“Them..?” you mouthed.

“I was in the middle of a fight.” he rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“We’re gonna talk about this later, I need to close that up.” you glared at him.

His head hit the wall behind him as he began to register the state he was in.

You crawled out of the room and ran over to the cabinet that your mother left the first aid in. Nimble fingers turning the oven and a timer on your way out so that Jay would have something to eat before he left.

If any other friend of yours were in this situation, you would’ve patched them up, scolded them and sent them on their way.

But with Jay, you always wanted to keep him around because you… liked him.

You had to stop yourself from checking him out when you got back to your room, he’d pulled his suit down to his hips, toned stomach on display.

“You sure you know what you’re doing..?” he frowned.

Instead of responding you shoved a piece of cloth into his mouth.

“Bite on it.”

Jay used his free hands to pull the cloth out. His hands reached into the box to grab a painkiller and swallow it dry.

“Ew.” you sneered. “I have water..”

He ignored you. “There’s nothing in the wound, I already checked.”

Taking alcohol, you cleaned the outside of the wound and prepped your synthetic polymer fibres.

As soon as the cool metal pierced Jay’s skin he began to squirm around.

His jaw flexed as he groaned out in pain.

“Please stop moving, Jay,” you begged. “It’s gonna hurt more if you keep moving.”

Despite your plea, he continued to twist and turn.

You groaned in frustration.

“Stop moving!”

The cloth was placed in his mouth again and you got up onto your knees to snatch the scarf that dangled off your bed frame.

Your hands grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back, double knotting the scarf so that he wouldn’t move.

Jay thrashed around trying to rip out of the restraints.

“Okay, calm down, I’m starting again,”

You slowly but surely sutured the wound and wrapped his waist in a bandage.

Jay whimpered.

“Huh?” your head snapped up as you took the cloth out of his mouth.

Without missing a beat, he leaned forward and kissed you.

Your fingers automatically made their way into his hair as you licked along his bottom lip.

He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue flat against yours before fighting for dominance in your mouth.

You couldn’t get enough. Your lungs gasped for air as you continued to practically eat his face off.

Subconsciously you lowered your hips onto his, rolling to get friction from his semi hard on against your pulsing core.

“Fuck.” he whimpered. Again.

“Always whining,” you teased him. “Never thought you’d be such a bottom, Jongie.”

He ripped the scarf as he broke free from the restraints.

Now you were the one whining.

“All I did was rip the scarf and you’re already dripping into my lap, who’s the real bottom here?” he mocked you with a fake look of shock all over his face. “Always wanted to have you under me..”

His words had your hips rutting against his, pathetic moans leaving your throat.

“Do I even have to do anything or will you get off just like this?” he grinned, marking up your neck.

A faint beeping broke you out of your trance.

“AHHHH! THE OVEN!”

You got up immediately, ignoring the way your fuzzy cat pyjamas clung to your lower body, and ran to the kitchen.

Thankfully the food wasn’t burnt but you clutched your heart as Jay launched himself onto your waist.

“I meant to say thank you.” he whispered.

His fingers made their way to where you needed him most, circling your clit through the fabric.

“Yeah- right. You.. You’re welcome.” you moaned at the end of your sentence, the pressure building up.

“Is this okay..?” he asked.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Jay pulled away laughing at your protest.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

You kept your lips shut. There was no way in hell that you were gonna submit to him so easily.

“Come on, baby.” he stared down at you through half lidded eyes. “Tell me where you want me..”

You shook your head, stubbornness radiating off your body.

“Is it here?” Jay asked.

His fingers unbuttoned your shirt, gasping at your uncovered chest as he tugged at your nipples.

A loud whine left your lips.

“Sensitive.. I see.” he looked determined.

“I’m not.” you grumbled.

He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, fondling the other with his warm hand.

“Fuck.” you moaned as his wet tongue circled the sensitive spot.

“You’re not huh?” he shook his head at your lie.

“Jay please.” you whined, hips chasing his.

“Please what?” he leaned away.

You swallowed your pride for the sake of your pleasure.

“I need you.” you moaned. “Need your fingers inside me.”

Jay lowered his head as an overwhelming wave of pleasure hit his body. He always knew that he’d liked you, but those words sent him over the edge.

He needed to have you immediately.

“Say it again.” he growled.

Once his lust filled eyes made eye contact with yours, you clenched your legs together.

“I need you so bad, Jay.” you whined.

He manhandled your body onto the kitchen counter, ripping off your pyjama bottoms and underwear in one go.

His tongue licked a stripe up your dripping hole, collecting the slick that leaked out.

Jay closed his eyes, taking in the taste.

“You taste so fucking good.” he whined.

Without missing the chance to take advantage of his submissive state, you tugged at his hair.

“Fuck..” he moaned loudly.

“You’re so hot.” you whimpered.

Seeing him like this made you feel a certain way.

He eagerly embraced your clit with his tongue and shoved his fingers into your cunt. They scissored you open before curling into you at a rapid pace.

Your hips thrashed up, chasing your high, not even caring about the loud sounds leaving your mouth and lewd sounds coming from Jay.

“You close?” he asked between moans.

You nodded, unable to form proper sentences.

“You have to ask.” Jay firmly stood his ground.

“Jay, please. Please let me cum!” you pathetically begged.

“Okay, princess.” he nodded. “Come for me..”

The orgasm hit you like five trucks, it truly felt never ending as Jay helped you through it.

Once your body recovered, you jumped down onto shaky legs attacking Jay’s lips as you pushed him backwards.

He absentmindedly followed the direction, tripping backwards as his legs made contact with your bed.

“Close your eyes.”

Jay made himself comfortable, lying down with his eyes closed.

“Wait- what!” his eyes shot open.

You’d handcuffed him to the headboard.

“Now why do you have these..” he questioned.

“Was saving them for when you’d come around.” you whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Now i’m gonna help you, with your little problem.”

You gestured to the way his cock painfully throbbed in the tight material of his suit.

“It’s not a little problem- Shit.”

He closed his eyes as you grabbed at his crotch.

You left kisses down his body, licking his abs before pulling the rest of his suit off.

His cock slapped up against his stomach causing him to moan loudly.

“How are you so wet..?” you questioned in awe, staring at him in disbelief.

“Stop staring at me..” he blushed.

“You weren’t lying about this not being a little problem.” you praised, licking a stripe along the underside. “You’re so big, so thick.”

Jay’s hips thrusted up, more precum leaking out.

“Please.. help me.” he cried.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you wiped away the tear that left his eye, babying him. “I’ll help you.”

Instead of sucking him off, you lowered your hips onto his dick.

Jay felt like he was going to explode.

“Fuck! You’re so tight,” he moaned.

The stretch had your eyes rolling back.

Hands falling onto his chest for support, you slowly found your own pace to bounce at.

“Please let me touch you..” he begged.

“No.” you scolded. “I’m going to go at my pace and you’re gonna get off this way.”

Tears were fully streaking down his face at this point.

His balls were heavy and tip throbbing, the sensation being too much for him to handle.

You continued to bounce on him, eyes closing at the pleasure of his thickness rubbing against your walls.

The moans leaving your throat increased in volume as slick gushed out of your pussy. The thought of using Jay had you excited.

Seeing you on top of him, using him for your own pleasure had Jay going insane.

He broke out of the handcuffs and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Fuck! Jay, right there!” you cried out in surprise.

His palms smacked at your ass, rapidly pushing you back onto his dick.

“Wait.. wait I wanna see your face when I cum.” he whined, flipping your body over.

Your legs rested on his shoulders as you cried at the newer, deeper angle.

His balls smacked against your ass as he slammed his hips against yours.

“Jay, I can’t,” you moaned.

“Yes you can.” he growled. “I’m so close.”

His hips began to falter before they stilled, shooting cum deep inside you.

You came right after him, his whines and moans setting you off.

Jay slumped onto your body, cradling your face with his hands.

“I like you so so much.” he confessed, kissing you sweetly.

“Well I think I’ve liked you for longer.” you laughed.

“If you say so.” he giggled, hugging your chest. “That was so good, I don’t think I’ll ever let you have anyone other than myself.”

“Same here.” you played with his hair. “WAIT FUCK MY PAPER!”

THE END.

~

bonus scene:

After getting cleaned up and eating (Jay forced you to) you sat on his lap at your desk, typing onto your desktop computer.

He read out the transcript and helped you summarise it into text.

“Sunghoon says that he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because I remember him throwing himself at you during this interview hoping that you’d give him attention, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame ass bitch who doesn’t get any hoes’ he truly did fuck around and find out!”

You laughed at his words.

“I knew you’d say something like that.”

He snuggled up to your back.

“So I’m getting predictable now, huh…”

You shook your head. “Never..”

“Guess our date will have to be something you wouldn’t expect.”

He was right, you really didn’t expect lunch on top of Brooklyn Bridge.

[holyblonded]

jealousy, jealousy | birds of a feather

pairings: paige bueckers x black!oc

summary: rocky schedules cause a drift in paige and cecilia’s relationship

warnings: jealous paige jealous paige jealous paige

notes: y’all i hate nova this time of year. everyone is on guard (rightfully so!) and tell me why i saw a tr*mp truck on my way to school 😐

Paige never considered herself the jealous type. Heck, she even bragged to many of her teammates that's the word didn't exist in her relationship. She loved Cecilia, Cecilia loved her. The same story for years now and everyone knew it. But, with the two of them both being in season and traveling, their window for their usual FaceTimes has shrunk and their texts have become brief. Paige's security in the relationship was shaken.

"Hi, I'm Cecilia and this is-" Cecilia pointed to her two friends on either side of her.

"Gavi-"

"and Pedri."

"And this is the best friends test," They all said together, Cecilia sounding much more upbeat than the other two.

"Here's how to the game goes, we all take turn asking questions and the other two write it down on the whiteboard so whoever gets it right, gets a point," Cecilia explained to the camera.

Cecilia grinned at the camera. "Alright, let's kick this off. First question: What's my favorite color?"

Gavi and Pedri scribbled furiously on their whiteboards before holding them up in unison.

"Yellow!" they both said at the same time, sounding like a rehearsed choir.

Cecilia clasped her hands together, looking touched. "Awww, you guys know me so well!"

Pedri smirked. "That was the easiest question ever."

"Don't get cocky," Cecilia shot back, flipping her cue card. "Here's a harder one: Who did I make my debut against?"

Both boys froze, their markers hovering over their boards.

"Uh... Sevilla?" Pedri guessed hesitantly.

"No, no, it was Espanyol," Gavi said with the confidence of someone who was absolutely wrong.

Cecilia gave them both a disappointed look. "Wrong and wrong. It was Real Madrid."

Gavi's eyebrows furrowed. "Your debut was El Clasico? That's crazy, why would they do that?"

"Cause I'm the greatest. But, yeah, no pressure or anything," Cecilia shrugged nonchalantly. "Just 90 minutes of running in the biggest game against Spain at the age of fourteen. Totally chill. Just another day being the best.”

"Shut up," Pedri rolled his eyes.

Cecilia laughed as she wiped the imaginary dust off her hands. "Okay, my turn's done. Gavi, you're up!"

Gavi smirked as he grabbed the question card in front of him. "Alright, let's see if you two actually know me. First question: What's my go-to meal after a hard match?”

Cecilia and Pedri immediately started scribbling on their whiteboards.

"Pizza," Cecilia said confidently, holding up her board.

"McDonald's," Pedri countered, grinning as he turned his board around.

Gavi pointed at Pedri. "He's right. McDonald's all the way."

Cecilia groaned. "Seriously? You're an elite athlete, and you're eating McNuggets after games? Nourish your body, dummy."

"Don't judge me, C," Gavi defended. "Next question: What's my biggest fear?"

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "Oh, this is easy." She quickly wrote something down.

Pedri hesitated, tapping his marker against his chin before finally scribbling something.

"Alright, show me," Gavi demanded.

"Spiders," Cecilia said, flipping her board.

"Practice after a game with a lot of yellow cards," Pedri guessed, his grin wide and teasing.

Gavi's face dropped as Cecilia and Pedri laughed. "Haha, so funny Pedri, but the answer is spiders."

Cecilia pumped her fist in the air. "Finally, some points for me!"

"Alright, it's my turn," Pedri said, leaning back in his chair with a smug look. "Let's start with an easy one: What's my favorite TV show?"

Gavi rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, we all know this."

Cecilia wrote something down quickly, her tongue poking out in concentration.

"Ready? One, two, three!" Pedri called.

"Money Heist," Cecilia said, holding her board up.

"Money Heist," Gavi echoed, flipping his board.

Pedri nodded. "Yep. Too easy. Next question: How old was I when I scored my first professional goal?"

Cecilia furrowed her brow. "Ugh, this is a trick question. I know it."

"Why would it be a trick question?" Gavi asked, already writing.

"Because everything with Pedri is a trick question," Cecilia replied, jotting down her answer.

"Alright, answers?" Pedri said.

"Seventeen," Cecilia guessed.

"Sixteen," Gavi said confidently.

Pedri shook his head, grinning. "You're both wrong. I was seventeen and three months."

Cecilia groaned. "You're the worst. Who even remembers the months?"

Pedri smirked. "A winner, that's who."

After a few more rounds, the three friends were in tears from laughing, their boards covered in half-erased answers and doodles.

"So who won?" Gavi asked, leaning over to tally the scores.

Pedri squinted at the paper. "Cecilia. By half a point."

"What?" Gavi exclaimed. "That's rigged! She probably cheated."

Cecilia gasped dramatically. "Excuse me? I'm just smarter than you two combined."

Pedri shrugged. "She's not wrong."

Gavi crossed his arms, pouting. "Next time, we're doing a test where I get to choose all the questions."

"Good luck with that," Cecilia teased. "We all know you'd still lose."

The video ended with the three of them laughing, Cecilia tossing an eraser at Gavi, who pretended to dodge it in slow motion.

Paige watched as the video faded to black, her chest filling with an indescribable feeling. A rather uncomfortable warmth accompanied by a sharp tug in her chest and a knot in her throat that made it hard to breathe.

"P," Nika called out. "You good?"

"Yeah," Paige's teeth were clenched. "I'm good."

Paige was head over heels for Cecilia and when they missed a day of talking, it felt like withdrawals. While Cecilia found this trait of Paige endearing, the same cannot be said for her teammates and friends.

"Paige! Shut the fuck up, please," Azzi groaned.

"I miss her, Azzi. My heart hurts," Paige complained as she clutched her chest dramatically. "My heart feels like it's going to explode."

"Let it," Nika mumbled in passing.

Paige sighed and trudged to her room throwing herself on the bed. She opened TikTok and went through her routine whenever she missed Cecilia, watching her edits.

Paige scrolled through the app enjoying the many thirst trap edits of her girlfriend when a certain in came across her screen. It's started out normal but a clip from an interview with Jana popped up and it turned on to a ship edit to the song Glue by Beabadoobee.

Paige knew she shouldn't have, but she clicked on the comments.

the ultimate barca couple 🗣️

they need to get together already 😭

bruh they are so cute

That same unsettling warmth filled Paige again. An uneasy, persistent ache grew in her stomach as she quickly swiped out of the app.

"Hey, Amor," Cecilia smiling face took up Paige's phone. Paige instantly sent her a smile yet. This is the first time she saw her girlfriend the whole week with their schedules keeping them apart.

"Hey, baby. I was thinking-" Paige was interrupted by a voice calling for Cecilia.

"Cari!" The voice of Ona Batlle rang through the small hallway where Cecilia was hiding. " Per què t'amagues aquí? (Why are you hiding here?)"

"Parlant amb la Paige sense que la Pina i la Patri em molestessin (Talking to Paige without Pina and Patri bothering me)," Cecilia answered as she smiled up at Ona from the floor.

"Okay, Cari," Ona planted a quick kiss on Cecilia's cheek before patting her head. "Assegureu-vos de dinar, d'acord. (Make sure to get lunch, okay.)"

"Si, si," Cecilia dismissed and swatted Ona's hands away before the older girl made her way to the cafeteria. "What were you saying, Amor?"

Paige gave her a tight lipped smile, with the unpleasant warmth filling her chest, "It's not important, don't worry about it, babe."

Paige tossed and turned, before she settled on her back, staring at her dorm ceiling. After a Google search and looking at advice videos on TikTok, Paige has chalked up the odd emotion she's been feeling was jealousy. She had never felt the feeling before in her relationship with Cecilia. With both of their careers taking off their usual everyday talks had dwindled down, and seeing Cecilia getting shipped with her teammates hurt Paige.

The blonde looked at her alarm clock that read 11:04 pm. She knew it was 5 in Barcelona but her brain moved on autopilot as she reached for her phone and dialed Cecilia's number. After the second ring, the call was answered by the groggy twenty year old.

"Amor? Are you okay?" Cecilia asked, attempting to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

"Are you in love with someone else?" Paige blurts out. Cecilia then sat up in bed, wide and awake.

"Amor, what?"

"Do you love Gavi or Pedri or Ona or anyone else in Spain?" Paige restated.

Cecilia shook her head, not comprehending what Paige could be asking right now. "What? Amor— no. There's no one else I love. What's been up with you lately? Háblame."

Paige sighed, her free hand coming up to rub at her temple as she tried to find the right words. "I don't even know where to start. It's just... lately, things have felt different, and I've been overthinking everything. You're all the way in Spain, and I'm here, and we barely get to talk like we used to. And then I see those videos of you with Gavi, Pedri, Ona, and your whole team..." She paused, her voice catching. "And I see the way people ship you with them, and it just... it hurts, Cece."

Cecilia's heart sank as she listened. "Paige," she said softly, her voice laced with concern.

"I know it's stupid, okay?" Paige continued, her words tumbling out now. "I know they're just your friends, and you're close with them because you spend so much time together, but I can't help it. I've never felt this... jealous before. And I hate feeling this way because I trust you—I do—but my brain just won't shut up."

Cecilia stayed quiet for a moment, letting Paige vent. Then, she took a deep breath and spoke, her tone calm but firm. "Amor, listen to me. You're the only person I love. You're my person. Always and forever. Not Gavi, not Pedri, not Ona—none of them. They're my friends, yes, and I love spending time with them, but it's not the same kind of love. What I feel for you? It's on a completely different level."

Paige sniffled softly, her fingers gripping her phone tightly. "But you're so far away, Cece. And they get to see you every day. They get to laugh with you, be around you, while I'm just... here. I feel like I'm losing you, even if I know that's not true."

"You're not losing me," Cecilia said with conviction, her voice softening again. "I promise, you're not. I know things have been tough lately with our schedules, and I hate that I can't talk to you as much as I want. But no matter how busy things get, you're always in my heart, Paige. I think about you every day, and I can't wait for the moment I can hold you again."

Paige let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just needed to hear that."

"And I'll remind you every day if you need me to," Cecilia said, a small smile creeping into her tone. "This is new for us, being apart for this long, not finding time to visit, but we're a team, remember? We'll figure it out, like we always do."

Paige finally let herself relax, the tension melting away from her body. "I love you, Cece. I'm sorry for being so insecure."

"Don't apologize for how you feel," Cecilia said. "It's okay to feel like this. Just talk to me, okay? No more holding it in until you're randomly calling me at five in the morning.”

Paige laughed softly, the sound making Cecilia's heart swell. "Deal."

"Good," Cecilia said warmly. "Now, get some sleep, Amor. I'll call you tomorrow, and we'll figure out a time to talk more often, okay?"

"Okay," Paige murmured, a soft smile forming on her lips. "Goodnight, Cece."

"Goodnight, mi amor. Sweet dreams."

[uchinagai]

Echoes of Us - winter

𝜗𝜚 idol!Winter x producer!reader

𝜗𝜚 synopsis : Winter just wanted a peaceful global solo debut with the help of another company, 88rising, but of course, the universe had to nerf her with worse luck, or not…

𝜗𝜚 contains : idol! winter, producer ex !reader, fem!reader, wlw, mentions of a messy break-up, kind of angsty but gets better!! um yeah idk what else to say

𝜗𝜚 w/k : 1.5k+

𝜗𝜚 a/n : English is not my first OR second language so please, ignore anything incorrect. js a random idea I wanted to write about nothing too big >.<

The conference room felt suffocating despite its size. She tapped her pen against the table—a small, futile attempt to keep calm as the 88rising team finalized her debut plans.

How long has she been wishing on this? God knows. One might say she has wanted to be solo since her debut. So having her artist name—Winter—without Aespa attached to it made her feel funny and giggly inside.

Well not for long, because not only was the producer she was assigned to unknown and hid their artist name, not even taking credit sometimes, but they were late too.

Very late.

The conference was about to end when the staff, who was sent in instead of the producer attending, got a message and looked down at the phone letting out probably the biggest sigh of relief.

“She’s gonna be in here 5 minutes, can we manage to stretch it?”

She?

Winter's manager looked down at the clock and nodded.

“We have a full day today, Minjeong has no schedules,”

It was obvious, that the person they sent in to replace her, was clueless about most of the things. She couldn’t answer anything related to the producer's working ethic and how long it would take her to finish up the project.

It was when Winter glanced towards the door when it opened, revealing a beautiful figure of a woman, in her 20s entering the room causing Winter the forget how to breathe.

Not only was the woman beautiful but also… familiar, way too familiar to her liking.

As she sat down next to her replacement, also across from Winter, the girl almost felt nauseous.

The familiar scent hitting her nose brought back many memories, such as holding and kissing a person with this scent.

As the person across her settled down on the chair, taking off the cap, Minjeong heard a small *click* in her head, putting everything together.

She wasn’t just gonna work with anybody, she was gonna work with y/n l/n.

The ex.

Well, how did this all begin??

Let’s divide winter's 4 years of training into three parts.

Two years of being friends with y/n

Almost dating y/n for two years

y/n l/n vanishing from her life without a word.

y/n managed to erase herself from Minjeongs life like she never existed, if the rest of the Aespa didn’t know y/n personally they would think Minjeong was crazy and making up lies about her imaginary girlfriend that made her life worth it all.

It’s been 4 years now, and has the younger one moved on? She thought she did before seeing the girl appear right in front of her like they spoke just yesterday, all chill and relaxed. 

Did she plan this all out? Just reappearing into her life as her producer four years later after being ghosted?

Blonde felt sick to her stomach, everything was coming back to her and all she could do was stare at the girl in front of her, frozen.

As the staff finally managed to give y/n all the information she missed, she looked across her table, seeing the stunned girl in front of her.

“Minjeong?”

The same sweetness filled with worry rang Winter back to reality as she shook her head a little, maybe she was imagining it all, but no. The girl in front of her stayed at the same spot, looking at her with worry.

As much as she was happy seeing her, she felt just as sick and disgusted.

“I-i can’t–” is all she could mutter out before storming out of that room where barely any natural light setting in.

Older watched her storm off as she sighed and excused herself calmly getting up from the chair.

Y/n knew the SM building well enough to know where the shorter girl would run off, so calmly, she approached the bathrooms on the 4th floor, which in winter's words were the cleanest ones.

Knock once. Twice. No response.

The door was unlocked so y/n let herself into a sight of winter leaning onto the sink, water on. Face visibly wet which meant she splashed herself with it.

“No hello?”

“Don’t bullshit me y/n”

“Woah sorry me, trying to lighten the mood up”

“Lighten the mood? You’re four years late for that.”

“Still sassy as ever, hm?”

“What do you want? Did you take onto this job on purpose to make it a living hell y/n?”

“I took on a job offer from SM ent. For Winter of Aespa because I missed Minjeong.”

She shorter one bit on her lower lip, suppressing a smile, why was she folding so easily to someone that ghosted her for four years? She didn’t know. 

Winter removed her hands from the sink and approached the taller one, keeping a distance.

“Missed Minjeong so bad that you couldn’t think of a reply to her countless messages for four fucking years, l/n?”

“Guess you can say that,” Producer shrugged leaning against the door frame with a smirk as the idol scoffed at her audacity.

“Don’t bullshit me”

“Fine, then let’s say your company knew our little relationship, didn’t want me to debut with you guys and I didn’t wanna debut either so we came to a mutual agreement.”

Winter couldn’t believe her ears. She knew y/n like the back of her hand and she could always tell if she was lying by the way she avoided eye contact, or how she fidgeted with her hair or body part, but this time it was none.

“So that’s it then? I was just a ‘mutual agreement’ for you?”

y/n reached out her hand, trying to run her hand through blonde hair, like she would when Winter needed comfort after a long day of training. But she was four years late to comfort her, four years late to tell her ‘you can do this’, so of course, the idol refused and slapped her hand away.

“Hey now,”

“No, y/n. You can’t just show up in my life that I worked so hard to build and keep it after you just..-” she was tearing up, the lump in her throat was holding her back. y/n always knew how to crumble the walls she built. Like when y/n just effortlessly got a confession out of her and started dating just like that. Her wall was long crumbled when she breathed her scent after four years.

“I get it Minjeong, I do, why do you think I kept my name hidden all this time? Because I wanted to be ‘mysterious’? Bullshit. It was the only way SM would take me, not knowing me. The 88rising team has been going feral, trying to secretly set up a collab with you for me.-”

All Minjeong could do was watch the way y/n moved her lips up to her eyes, searching for a small bit of lie for her to point out and call her a liar but she couldn’t, older was sincere, which broke her even more.

“--I’m sorry for leaving you in this cruel industry, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me the most!”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Wha-”

And she felt the familiar cherry-flavored lips mixed with salty tears land on hers, shutting her instantly.

Winter’s lips moved against hers with an urgency that wasn’t just longing—it was pain, anger, and frustration all tangled together. It didn’t feel like out of love to y/n, but it didn’t matter her Minjeong was kissing her.

But as much as she wanted to melt into the kiss, into her, Y/n pulled back gently, resting her forehead against Winter’s. Her breath came out shaky as she whispered, “Jeongie…”

The younger girl opened her eyes, her gaze locking with Y/n’s. They were glassy and red, but there was still fire in them. “Don’t. Don’t say my name like that. Like you still care.”

Older wrapped her arm around her, resting her head now onto her shoulder, snuggling to her like a leach as younger didn’t pull her away, and going as far as wrapping her arms around her neck securing her.

“You know I do, Jeongie… I always cared,” she mumbled against the singer's neck.

“You wouldn’t leave me like that if you did, y/n…”

“Jeongie, you had your dreams and I was gonna hold you back, you know it. I was gonna hold back the star that shines on the stage today and I didn’t want that,”

Winter couldn’t think of anything. She was too drunk to hold her close, so she closed her eyes. So they stayed like this for a while, enjoying each other's embrace after four years of longing.

“You missed me, hm?”

“Missing you doesn’t mean I forgive you, y/n l/n,” Said the shorter one and pulled away from her, while keeping her hands on her shoulders.

“Tomorrow, don’t forget, we still have music to make,”

She said with a giggle and just ran out of the bathroom, causing y/n to laugh at her childish behavior.

“Jeongie!!” the producer chased after her as their running and laughter filled the SM ent building hallways, just like the old days.

Maybe there was still hope…

[honeyhoshi]

raise the stakes pt. 1

summary: you and soonyoung have been in each other’s orbits for years. you’ve watched him go from a grassroots player to receiving the captain’s armband—a sign of trust and acknowledging his loyalty to his team.

but he’s loyal to you too.

this a part of the man of the match universe and set in the 2022-2023 season.

genre: professional footballer (soccer) soonyoung, coach's daughter oc, (sort of) childhood friends to lovers, slight angst, smut

wordcount: 24,969, pt. 2 coming soon

pairing: soonyoung x afab!reader (named cho jiae)

warnings: oral (m & f receiving), spit kink (bec i wrote it), tit fucking, titty obsessed soonyoung, cum play, cum eating, fingering, squirting, brief embarrassment over squirting, brief impact play (soonyoung slaps her ass ONCE), unprotected sex (NOT RECOMMENDED IN REAL LIFE), creampie (again, bec i wrote it), soonyoung calls her baby, overwhelmed but HAPPY and SATISFIED tears

author's notes: i wrote this while recalling a lot of my own harrowing experiences with boys growing up and had a lot of embarrassing fun with it. i hope you all fall in love with this soonyoung the way i did.

There’s something to be said about how you’re hiding in your neighbor’s bush right now but you’re not interested in dealing with it at the moment.

You had been pulled from the comfort of your bed by the smiling, panting, hunk of hair known as your dog Ddalgi. He had been startled awake by the film you were watching and despite the ungodly hour, he had demanded to be taken out for a walk. If he had just closed his eyes and fallen back asleep, you wouldn’t be in such a predicament.

On most nights your neighborhood is dead quiet and pretty much abandoned at 1AM, everyone having retreated into the comfort of their homes. But tonight is an exception and the only other person outside makes you swear something unladylike. It’s Soonyoung.

It’s Soonyoung who had moved into the neighborhood three months ago. Soonyoung who you were able to successfully evade for all those weeks. Soonyoung who had just put a pretty lady into a taxi, his wishes of safety and to let him know when she’s made it home audible just as you rounded the corner from the Jang’s.

You try to stay as still and as quiet as you can, willing him to walk back up his stupid driveway and into his house so you and Ddalgi can make a run for it to your dog’s favorite stop just past his property. Had you been alone you’d be successful, but your Golden Retriever's bladder is ready to burst and his whines and antsy tippy tapping toes are enough to sell you out.

Then comes a call of your name, “Is that you?”

There’s no use in hiding now and you make a face before trying to compose yourself, moving behind the bush and sending a tentative wave his way.

“Evening, Hosh!” You wave from your spots.

You curse every god you can name at the top of your head because of course it had to be Soonyoung.

He waves back tentatively and turns his wrist to look at the time on his watch and you can see him furrowing his eyebrows, probably not believing the time.

Ddalgi is having none of it, by the way, and tugs at you impatiently at the sight of someone new. He’s wagging his tail ferrociously as you two make your way to Soonyoung – your dog excitedly, and you begrudging.

All questions fall from Soonyoung’s lips as he greets Ddalgi with open arms allowing your dog to lick at his face. You’ll forever remember this night as your dog getting further with your teenage crush in his two years of life than you have in all twenty eight of yours.

You start cursing gods again.

You will have to admit that the two of them are cute and you wish you could snap a picture of the sweet moment, Soonyoung’s love for animals still ever present. You have to keep the smile down when he looks up to you from where he’s kneeled down to play with Ddalgi.

Once he’s had enough of your dog’s wet, slobbery love, he gets up, dusts off the imaginary dust from his pants and looks to you expectantly. As always, Soonyoung looks fresh and young and bright. You wonder if you should shield your eyes from his natural brilliance. 

Ddalgi busies himself by sniffing at Soonyoung’s bushes, no doubt ready to unleash his bladder, while you kind of sway there in your ratty sweater and sleep shorts. 

“So!” You start, flashing him a cheesy smile.

“Soooo…” Soonyoung replies with a laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets.

You’re saved by the bell when you hear the telltale sound of your dog going and you can’t help but make a face, “Sorry about that, he really needed to go.”

Soonyoung himself can’t help when he lets out a laugh and you want to melt.

“It’s no bother, really–”

“Also uh, sorry about uh, you know–”

“Oh!” 

You’re both cutting each other off and when you meet his eyes you both can’t help the genuine laughter that spills out of both your mouths. Ddalgi can’t help it either when he lets out a gleeful bark, wanting to join in on the fun.

When you’ve caught your breath, you can’t help that a smile stays on your face.

“What I was trying to say,” You finally get out, “is uh, sorry for walking in on you and your uhh, ya know, lady friend–”

Soonyoung tries to butt in with a “No, it really–”

You stop him with a hand on his chest and a playful, overexaggerated wink.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell dad you’re still up this late or whatever arcane rule of his you’ve broken,” with a slight tug of his leash, you start to lead Ddalgi towards the direction of your house.

Soonyoung gapes at you and you send him a thumbs up.

As you’re walking away he seems to get a hold of his bearings and yells out, disrupting the calm evening, “It wasn’t like that, I swear!”

You turn to him, walking backwards, “Don’t worry, Hosh! I can keep a secret!”

And keep this secret you will. You’d take it to the grave if you have to. Because it was mortifying.

The mere idea that Soonyoung was going to be caught in a dating scandal had been your personal nightmare for years. Harboring a crush was brutal in and of itself, but harboring a crush on a world-renowned football player who you sort of spent your childhood around and is now a  professional playing under your dad’s guidance is a wholly unique experience that very few would be able to relate to.

Your history with Soonyoung started when you were twelve and realized with utmost alarm that boys can be cute. 

You had grown up with an older brother and just that experience alone made you think that boys sucked. But having spent a good chunk of your after-school schedule at the HYBE training facilities meant you were always surrounded by rowdy football players (who smelled and were loud and annoying).

Soonyoung was all of those things, of course. 

But he was also cute.

The realization was quite unwelcome because you liked turning your nose up at the gaggle of teenage boys who barrelled their way into your dad’s office after training, asking for photos and autographs, going on about a new play they wanted to try, and if he’d let them play forward for the next scrimmage.

Such was the life of the head coach for an Under-18 league team.

But none were as consistent as Soonyoung had been. He was in that office after every single practice; hounding your dad about how he had played, and if your dad saw how he improved, and if your dad could teach him that move from the 2005 cup final.

At first it had baffled you. Soonyoung didn’t even play under your dad's guidance. He was just as old as you were and wouldn't be part of your dad's team for another three or so years. One day you gave him a real good look and your eyes hone in on the gloves he had under his arm.

He was a goal keeper.

Playing keeper wasn't a particularly flashy position for most kids—the glamor of scoring goals was usually at the top of most's heads. Kids who were put in front of the goal usually groaned and kicked the dirt at the little ball possession they'd get, and of course, not being able to score any goals.

Even you had preferred to play, during your brief football career, what you then considered a more active position of right back.

But Soonyoung wore his keeper’s gloves like a badge of honor and looked at your dad like the second coming of Christ. Which made sense as your dad had been one of the most prolific goal keepers in the Korean league. You don’t fault Soonyoung for looking up to your dad like a hero, he was yours as well.

While most of the players leave you be to work on whatever homework you brought to kill time, Soonyoung always bade you goodbye after his little consultation session, always a little rushed and mumbling how he might miss his train back home.

Admittedly now it seems a little bare minimum but you were twelve and no other boy really paid you any mind. Soonyoung’s bright eye smile and sweaty face had been tattooed in your brain since then and you looked forward to his rushed, sweaty, and sweet goodbye almost every day.

All of this comes to mind as you faceplant onto your bed and leave Ddalgi to his own devices. Your convoluted past with Soonyoung swims before your eyes like a movie montage and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut at your mistakes, lapses, and missed chances. You survived eight years of his professional career without the worry of a WAG coming into the picture but all of that may be at an end at 2AM on a random Sunday.

Sleep had evaded you in the early hours of the morning and what little sleep you did get was subpar.

There’s a frown on your face when you jog down the stairs, opting to join your dad in the dining room for breakfast.             

“Good morning, sweet peach. There’s strawberries and croissants on the table,” your dad greets, briefly looking up from the game of Candy Crush on his iPad. 

Your squinted eyes finally focus on what’s in front of you and you perk up.

“Ooh my favorite!” You press a kiss to his cheek and observe the simple breakfast spread before you.

There’s an open box of strawberries you recognize from the weekend market you visited a few weeks ago. They always run out before you’re able to wipe the sleep from your eyes to try them again.

“Where’s Ddalgi?” You say, staring at a wall, still a bit dazed as you reach for and bite into a strawberry.

“He’s outside with Soonyoung,” You stop chewing.

“Oh,” you start. Now you’re waking up, “So I guess the strawberries and the croissants are—“

“Yup, Soonyoung’s brought them over.” The way your dad says this all so casually makes you want to scream. He hasn’t even looked up from his game. 

You’re still bleary-eyed, but you slide open the side door and find Soonyoung and your Golden Retriever on the patio. They turn their heads to you at the same time, both happily munching on something.

“Kwon, what are you feeding my dog?” Your heart is racing, your mind suddenly going to the possibility of Ddalgi having eaten something he isn’t allowed.

“Strawberries!” Soonyoung gleefully exclaims, raising one in the air, “I found out that they were quite good for them! Whitens their teeth and they have a really healthy enzyme or something.”

“That’s cannibalism,” you frown as Ddalgi sniffles at Soonyoung’s hand, asking to eat another of his namesake. 

“But look, he likes them so much,” You can’t help but roll your eyes as you watch Ddalgi charm yet another guest.

You make soft cooing noises at your dog, but he refuses to separate himself from Soonyoung, who is happily plucking the leaves off of the strawberries, popping them into his mouth, and offering them to Ddalgi.

You frown again. Your dog wasn’t there when you woke up, meaning you were deprived of your routinary 30 minutes of giving him sleepy kisses and cuddling before mustering enough strength to get out of bed.

You sigh and drop yourself onto a sunchair, crossing your arms over your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra.

“What are you doing here Soonyoung?”

He’s trying to avoid your eyes, pretending to squint at the distance, “I was just in the neighborhood and decided to drop off some breakfast.”

“You live like 10 houses down, you’re always in the neighborhood.”

“They’re big houses,” He says in all seriousness, finally meeting your eye.

You try to hold it in, but the second he breaks out in laughter, you can’t help but join in. 

When he catches his breath he says, “I just wanted to make up for last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to say that what you saw… wasn’t what you saw,” he explains poorly.

You nod playfully, putting on a faux smirk, “What I saw doesn’t matter,” You say, “Your business is your business.”

The reality is that you want to make it your business. 

Sleep had come with much difficulty the night prior, your heart reminding your head of all the silly interactions you’d had with Soonyoung growing up. You tossed and turned, thinking of how you could have used them to your advantage. To maybe charm him all those years ago. Maybe then you would have been the pretty thing on his arm during team dinners or wearing his jersey during games.

“Why were you even out that late?” Soonyoung questions, knocking you out of your reverie.

“Woke Ddalgi up while watching a movie,” you explain.

“New one for The Log?”

The Log was the unofficial horror film log you had started on your Instagram a few years back. You didn’t think anyone really paid any attention to that but some of your film buff girlfriends.

“You keep up with The Log?” You ask, genuinely surprised.

“Hell yeah,” He says, eyes lighting up, “I don’t have the time to always watch the movies but I like to know what they’re about. Vernon made us watch that one where they made that girl play Hide and Seek, at the last team dinner.”

“Ready Or Not,” you say, providing him with the title. 

“Yeah, that one!”

“It’s a pretty good one. Good choice.” You nod in acknowledgement at his teammate’s superb film taste. 

“So do you and Ddalgi always do that?” Soonyoung asks, circling back to the previous topic.

“What, 2AM walks? Yup.”

Soonyoung gapes at you then looks to Ddalgi as if he’d understand Soonyoung’s disbelief.

“Yeah! All the time, even!” You begin to explain, “He always has to go out once he’s woken up. It doesn’t even matter what time it is.”

You can hear your dad calling for him from inside the house, catching your attention.

“You should text me,” Soonyoung says all of a sudden.

“What?” You’re genuinely taken aback. You don’t even have his number.

“If you two are going for a walk,” He says earnestly, looking you dead in the eyes, “You should text me.”

You’re stunned speechless. Before you even muster up enough courage to say something, he stands up, gives Ddalgi a pat on the head, and goes inside. 

You’re too much of a coward to do anything. Too afraid to go inside, knowing he’s in there talking with your dad. You wait until you hear him bid your dad goodbye before you and Ddalgi go back inside to eat the strawberries.

Upstairs there’s an unread message on your phone waiting to give you the surprise of your life.

Unknown Sender Today 3:49AM

Hey, I'm sorry about earlier!!! It really wasn't what you think bec That was my cousin 😩

Pls the thought of people thinking the two of us are dating makes me sickkkk

R u there

One day you’re going to get told off for just walking about the HYBE Training Center as you pleased but that day will not be today. The perks of having pretty much grown up in this building meant that you almost knew it inside out and upside down. The promotion from “A Coach’s Daughter” to “The Manager's Daughter” is a big one and one you never really thought of taking full advantage of. 

As you grew a bit older you found your own interests and opted for after school extracurriculars, taking the train home with your friends, and soon, time spent walking through these halls in your school uniform dwindled down to zero.

It makes what you’re doing now a little awkward.

While you weren’t skulking around like a creep, this was far from what it used to be. You’ve completely run out of your childish charm that made being a menace around the center cute. Now you were just Mr. Cho’s temporary stay at home daughter, much too old to be bringing her old man lunch.

You remember walking next to your father, acting self important and snooty, thinking you were far better than the silly boys who spent hours kicking a ball around a pitch only to net one or two goals a game, and celebrating those goals as if they were playing in the San Siro in Italy. You were all just in Gangnam. Of course this was all to veil the poorly hidden enthusiasm you yourself had for the game. And the players. A player.

Soonyoung.

It isn’t uncommon for players to start of their careers in bottom or midrank teams, make a name for themselves, then get transferred to teams in the upper rungs. Several of the Diamonds’ players had such histories. 

But not Soonyoung. 

Soonyoung had grown up in these halls probably more than you did. You don’t know when exactly he joined the Diamonds but he’s one of the few players on the first team that’s been here since his grass roots days. Aside from his dedication to the sport, he was without a question, dedicated to the Diamonds.

You suppose some twenty or so years have led to this.

You’re standing in front of a wall-sized photo of this year’s squad. Soonyoung is standing proudly at the center with his arms folded over his chest and the Captain’s armband wrapped around his bicep. After the shock and upset that wracked the city upon Seungcheol’s retirement and subsequent abdication from the post of captain, Soonyoung had a heavy burden on his shoulders to get the Diamonds back in action.

It was impressive what he’s done in three years.

“You never texted me ba–”

“Oh my fucking GOD!”

You were a second away from caressing poster Soonyoung’s face on the wall when the voice of the real Soonyoung knocked you out of your reverie. You can’t see your face but you know you’re beet red and frazzled when you turn to look at Soonyoung who has a jolly smile on his face, eyes forming crescents.

He’s dressed in training gear, a simplified version of the home kit with the number 1 on the middle of the shirt. He’s slightly flushed from what may be exertion from the session, hands free of the gloves he’s usually wearing.

“You can’t just do that!” You cry, a hand on your chest to ease your rapid heartbeat.

“Sorry, peaches,” He says, the nickname making your ears perk up.

“Please, not that tiredass nickname.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Peaches was a family nickname that originated from way back when you were born with no hair on your head but peach fuzz. Your dad had a particular affinity for it and had used it up until now. Everyone else from his close friends to co-workers had taken to the nickname as well and it had become your unofficial Diamonds title.

Now even his players were calling you Peaches.

“It’s a cute name,” Soonyoung says.

“My dad has a penchant for nicknames, truly,” You begin, “Peaches for me, Hoshi for you.”

Hoshi, Soonyoung’s nickname, had been a moniker bestowed upon him by your father some time in the 2010s. Tiger’s gaze, it had meant. An apt description for how Soonyoung’s eyes sharpen when he’s on the pitch. 

He’s become known for it, how he shifts from Soonyoung to Hoshi when the whistle blows, signaling the start of a match. You’ve fallen down a TikTok rabbit hole of these Soonyoung to Hoshi transformation compilations one too many times before. Not that that’s anyone’s business but your own.

“What’re you doing here? Haven’t seen you around here in ages,” Soonyoung says, scratching the back of his head and ruffling his hair. It’s longer than you remember it being, like he hasn’t cut it since the end of the last season.

It looks good.

You hold up the paperbag in your hand, “Wanted to surprise my dad with some lunch, but uh, I haven’t done this in a while, so I kind of forgot to check his schedule before heading over.”

Soonyoung nods in understanding.

“He’s skipping the start of morning practice for a meeting of some sort with Seungcheol. He should be back in maybe twenty for the second half,” Soonyoung explains, ”We’re starting back in a while. You should come watch while you wait.”

Watching training sessions had been a weekend pastime. Getting through morning sessions on Saturdays meant lunch out, heading to the mall, or your favorite, seeing a matinee show afterwards. You’d spent hours sitting around the pitch dedicated for the under-18 team’s coaching staff with a book in your hands (a mere prop, really), secretly eyeing the cute older boys and, when the fates would permit, the under-15 team playing on the adjacent pitch.

You can picture it in your mind’s eye – Soonyoung and Wonwoo, the two members of the Diamond’s current team who were in the same batch of grassroots players, shoving each other as they walked from the dugout to their team’s pitch. They’d offer a polite nod to your father and his staff, and a small wave to you. The memory makes you smile slightly as you nod at Soonyoung and let him lead you to the main pitch.

Throughout the years, the constant exposure to one another led you to befriend the players that stuck around. It was surface level, but the familiarity is welcome as you really take in how long its been since you’ve involved yourself with the Diamonds on a personal level. Despite the teenage angst and the mostly made up agony from those years, you hold them all in your silly little heart dearly.

You suppose its only fair that things have changed since then. When Soonyoung leads you to the main pitch, it’s far bigger than the ones he and Wonwoo used to play on, back when you’d eye them doing drills and blushing when they’d pull their shirts up to clear their eyes of sweat. Now Soonyoung strides onto the pitch with confidence that comes with years of experience and success under his belt. It looks good on him. It looks right, even.

When you turn to the spectator seats you find yourself met with familiar faces. You can't help the excitement that courses through you as pigtails and pink ribbons run towards you.

“Seunghee-ya!” You squeal as a little girl launches herself into your arms.

Seungcheol, your father’s assistant manager and an ex-captain of the Diamonds, had blessed the team with their own little princess four years ago. In no time she had taken to the attention of her uncles and their respective partners like a fish to water. She’s what you imagine you were like at four years old and stomping around the pitch in pink cleats and a mini version of the home kit on.

She peppers your face with kisses and you press a big one to her cheek in response and you carry her on your hip. You turn to Soonyoung and find him grinning at the exchange between the two of you.

You can’t help but blush before saying, “Sorry, its just been so long since I’ve gotten to babysit her.”

The smile on Soonyoung’s face just grows, “Nah, it’s fine. I get it. It’s cute. You both are.”

The flush on your cheeks feels downright painful now as you try to pretend you didn’t hear anything Soonyoung had said and instead head towards where Seunghee’s mom is seated with a few other spectators. Soonyoung just follows behind you, not saying a word.

You go up to Seunghee’s mom, Sunhee, and pass her daughter along as you exchange hellos and how are yous. When you meet her eye, she raises a well manicured eyebrow at you then quickly flicks her eyes over at Soonyoung before eyeing you again.

You make a face as if asking her to drop it, but a smile threatens her lips and you cut her off before she says something that might embarrass you further.

“I was going to bring my dad some lunch, but he wasn’t in his office and I kind of just ended up wandering around. Hoshi found me is all,” You explain.

“Sure.” Is Sunhee’s only acknowledgement before sitting back down with her daughter.

“You’ll be okay hanging out here, right?” Soonyoung says, gesturing to the seats in front of you.

“Yup, I’ll be fine. I’ve been sitting at the WAG bench forever,” You joke, before realizing how it sounded and quickly correcting yourself, “I mean, because of my mom! Like, you know, WAG for over twenty five years, and all of that haha! Not that I’ve ever been a WAG? Like imagine that, haha! I wish!”

You want to scream.

Soonyoung just nods and you bite the smile threatening your lips as sit yourself down next to Sunhee.

“That was like watching a car crash, I couldn’t look awa–”

“Stooop,” You whine, dropping your head onto her shoulder as Soonyoung walks away. 

You had been sitting at the WAG bench for ages. Just like little Seunghee is right now, you had accompanied your mother to many of your dad’s training sessions and matches, both when he was an active player and then later on when he became a part of the coaching staff. It’s only really hitting you now that you were sitting at the WAG bench with no real purpose.

Sunhee and her daughter were her for Seungcheol, and up a few rows you spotted Bang Ahreum sitting in her boyfriend’s lap, giggling. If it were the weekend, and not a random Thursday, you’re sure a few more ladies would fill the seats.

“You’d make a really cute WAG,” Sunhee says with a giggle, “Soonyoung would agree.”

You can’t help the small smile of appreciation at Sunhee’s words, indulging at the little fantasy, but turning towards the slight commotion coming from the players on the pitch as they greet the newcomers of Seungcheol and your father.

You send a big wave towards your dad, catching his attention and seeing him wave and smile back and he walks to you. You fix the little snacks you’d put together in your paperbag and pull one out to hand over to Sunhee with a little wink before standing and dusting off your jeans. You greet your dad with a hug and a kiss to his cheek. He leaves training in Seungcheol’s capable hands, wanting to enjoy the surprise of having you back at HYBE like the old days. 

The players all wave and bid you two goodbye when a loud, “BYE PEACHES!” comes from the chorus of Jun, Woozi, and Wonwoo by the goal at the far end of the pitch. You turn with a laugh and wave goodbye and catch Soonyoung’s eye from behind his teammates.

He sends a small wave and smile before he makes a phone with his gloved hand and brings it up to his ear, quirking his eyebrow, as if in challenge.

You shake your head and offer a little nod, hoping he sees from where he’s watching you.

“What was that about?” Your dad asks with a laugh as well.

You aren’t sure and tell him just as much.

If there was ever a time you thought your dad must’ve been clued in in your debilitating crush on Soonyoung, it was when you were sixteen and in need of a date. Being sent to a stuffy all girls school meant you had to deal with all the annoying ceremonials and traditions like classes spent on ladylike dancing and good manners in front of boys.

That was all to be put into practical use in your 10th year, where those in your year were allowed to take part in a charity dinner. It was really just some lame version of American dances that your school had pirated and you had dreaded since entering high school. While it was really a family and friends thing, people really mostly paid attention to two things: what you wore and who your date was.

Most students played it safe by bringing their parents and wearing their mom’s jewelry, but it was the perfect opportunity for the upper grades to bring their boyfriends and show off to everyone that they were so cool and mature. You want to say you’re unaffected, but upon hearing that most of your friends were brining people other than their dads, you were starting to sweat.

Despite having been around boys your whole life thanks to your dad’s work, it wasn’t like that ever took fruit in any way, shape, or form. At sixteen you had never had anyone show any interest in you aside from asking about your dad or if they could somehow get into the club through your connections.

Your dad had likely warned away any interested guys or set a rule of ‘hands off my daughter!’ from an early age. It wasn’t until recently did you find out that your suspicions were somewhat true and the team had a long standing rule that family was off limits, all thanks to Jeonghan’s girlfriend cluing you in.

In addition to that, after you’d started putting more time into your extra curriculars and found hobbies you could be passionate about. Your interest in meeting boys and finding romantic connections simply just didn’t register. At this age even Soonyoung was just sitting at the corner of your mind, your crush only making itself known if your dad mentions him in passing.

With the charity dinner coming closer and closer, you were running out of time to look for someone to take you. Your brother and any of his friends were out of the picture, all off to college and too busy to take you to what he’d deem a silly little dance. You had no cousins your age that lived around the area, so that was out of the picture. And unlike your friends, you had zero to no male friends to ring in a favor to.

The realization had dawned over you slowly and torturously–were you so undesirable that no boy would look your way if not for the man you called your dad? Was the only time you could interact with the male species through your after school drama club? It was all so mortifying.

You had explained as such to your mother as you faceplanted onto your parents’ bed, dumping onto her the woes of being a teenager and the troubles of girlhood that you were merely at the cusp of.

“You can ask your dad if he has any players who can take you,” She had suggested offhandedly.

You’d already considered that weeks prior. You knew that some of his players were already making names for themselves in the juvenile leagues and Under-18 National Team. Surely bringing one of those players would have you as the Belle of the Ball. But you quickly shut that down because the only way that would happen was if you asked your dad. That in itself was an embarrassing enough idea that you want to die just thinking about it.

With your mother bringing it up again, you can’t help but partially entertain the idea. If she brought it up, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

During dinner that evening the topic of the Charity Dinner is brought up in the middle of one of your dad’s training stories. He was going on about how close he had gotten with this crop of Under-18s, watching them grow since he became part of the club’s training staff after his retirement from professional playing.

Soonyoung in particular was growing up to be quite the goal keeper.

You tried to keep your eyes down and trained to your quickly cooling Samgyetang, avoiding either of your parents’ eyes but it was to no avail as your mom joyfully mentioned the school activity. You didn’t need a mirror to know how red your ears had gotten.

“Do you think Soonyoung would mind taking her to the Charity dinner?”

You wanted to drown yourself in the soup when you brother laughed and your dad had coughed.

“You’re thinking of asking the starting Keeper of the U-18 National Team to take this loser to her pseudo-prom?” Your brother mocked.

You sent him a scathing look as your mother said his name as a warning, “It’d be a good idea! Soonyoung’s a really good boy.”

“I–uh, I’ll check with him,” Your dad had said and that was that.

The days that followed that were torturous but you were hopeful. You couldn’t help yourself when you had daydreamed about what kind of night the Charity Dinner would be with Soonyoung on your arm, and you were unable to stop yourself from gushing to your friends about the possibility of a teenage celebrity coming as your date.

Your date.

Your date.

You were over the moon with the realization that your crush was going to be escorting you to this event and that it could possibly a kicking off point for you two to get closer and maybe become something more.

papa 💛 Today 1:28PM

were you able to asksoonyoung?

I’ll ask him later.

That Monday you had texted your dad.

Training was every day except Fridays and weekends, so you had known they’d see each other.

Not wanting to sound too eager, you had dropped the subject and thought that you’d allow your dad to his task.

On Tuesday, you had heard nothing.

On Wednesday, you were going out of your mind in anticipation. More and more people were talking about the dinner and your big talk about your date had started to taste ashen in your mouth.

After school you couldn’t help yourself as you sent a “Did you ask Soonyoung yet? What did he say?” off to your dad’s number, unable to focus as you mess up the lines in a monologue you knew by heart just last week.

After rehearsals you had felt your heart lodge itself in your throat at you took in the words on your phone, trying to keep the pressure building in your temples at bay.

papa 💛 Today 2:04PM

did u ask soonyoung yet? what did he say?

I am your dad, not one of your friends. You still need to talk to me with respect.

Soonyoung has a prior commitment on that day and can’t attend the dinner.

You felt hot tears well at your eyes as you blinked rapidly to shoo them away and wiped at your face to avoid any questions from your peers.

It didn’t help that your dad had picked you up that day, the car ride tense and completely awkward for both of you, you’re sure. You had grasped at straws to make sure the topic of the dinner or of Soonyoung did not come up, your usual How did training go? out of the question. Instead you had lied about how good rehearsals had gone and how happy your moderator was with your performance.

Once you got home you had skipped dinner and cried in the shower while Taylor Swift blared from your iPod Touch.

Drama really was the perfect club for you.

With Soonyoung unavailable, you had decided to go stag—which was a perfectly acceptable decision. Still, you felt the sting of rejection as it burned deep in your heart. Your dress was gray, a perfect match for the heavy raincloud that hung over your head, you thought. And though it swayed and flounced perfectly when you twirled, you couldn’t help the dissatisfaction painted on your face.

When you had dragged yourself down the stairs, you were already bemoaning how you didn’t want to take any photos, but was surprised to see your dad standing at the foot of the stairs, fixing his cufflinks while your mom adjusted his tie. A gray that matched your dress perfectly. You took his arm proudly and smiled for all the photos your mom directed your brother to take.

That night your dad drove to your school in his flashiest car, made a jaw dropping donation, and pretended like he could dance. On his suggestion, you had left the dinner earlier and stopped by a Lotteria instead. You rested your chin on his shoulder while he ordered your usuals and you ate and laughed before heading home.

That night he had pressed a long kiss to your forehead before sending you off to bed.

Mustering enough courage to finally text Soonyoung takes about a week. 

His number is saved as a conservative Kwon Soonyoung (Diamonds) as if he was a business associate you didn't want to get mixed up with your regular contacts. You stare at the conversation window for longer than than deemed normal, though. You haven’t been this nervous to message a boy since you were a freshman in university, that by the time you actually send the message, Ddlagi is whining and anxious to get going.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 2:04PM

would u happen to be awake ?

Soonyoung’s swift reply almost gives you whiplash because you hadn’t expected it to come so soon, or for it to come at all.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 11:04PM

would u happen to be awake ?

You bet I am

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you find that you're far from what you deem as “Soonyoung worthy.” But when your phone pings with another message, you find that you don’t have the luxury of time. 

It also wouldn’t make any sense if Soonyoung ever caught you outside and your “just woke up like this” couture was inconsistent. Right. Baggy hoodie and pajama shorts will definitely have to do.

                                                                                                                                                   You’re kind of at a loss when you read the message as you clip on Ddlagi’s leash and put on a pair of outdoor shoes. Soonyoung becoming your neighbor in the year of our Lord 2023 was not something you considered, and definitely not something you thought would ever lead to tandem dog walking.

But when you open your door, it kind of takes your breath away when you see him, soft and barefaced in his own ratty hoodie and sweats combo, smiling at you from behind the garden gate. This image of him almost rewrites the last ten or so years of his semi-absence in your life, offering a chance to relive some teenage fantasies you’d set aside as impossibilities.

“Hi,” comes your small, hesitant whisper of a greeting when you’re standing face to face.

“Hi,” he replies simply, a hint of hesitation as well, but he’s smiling, still.

Ddalgi is a bundle of excitement when he sees the newest addition to your night walk and tugs at your arm impatiently, wanting to shower Soonyoung with kisses, the gate between them be damned. It makes Soonyong let out that little laugh that makes you want to die and the small smile he gives you spreads on his face wider at Ddalgi’s joy.

Your delay in texting him had come from the fear of not having anything to talk about. Despite all the years together you weren’t always actually together. You worried that the initial connection of being in your dad’s office or within the halls of HYBE has withered away any possible topic for you to broach without it being forced or awkward.

God, you always hated the talking stage. And while that’s obviously not what this is (you think), you don’t want to mess up at least being friends with Soonyoung. And you should have known that would be enough to break the tension with Soonyoung. Conversation comes easily between the two of you with him as a natural people person and you as a natural yapper.

“You managed to catch the game today?” He starts.

“I managed to catch it in my free time,” You answer coyly.

Partially true. Being in between jobs meant nearly every minute of the day was ‘free time.’

“And?” He goads.

“And what?”

“What’d you think!”

“That late game save was insane,” It seems like you’re laying it on thick but the way Soonyoung preens makes it worth it.

“Nah, it was nothi—“

“But!” You interject.

Soonyoung gives you an incredulous look, “BUT?”

“But you challenged it too late,” you start, “You could have definitely gone for the tackle while he was a ways away from the goal.”

“No way, Kang would’ve made that shot!” He argues back, he’s amused by your argument but doesn’t believe you.

“He wouldn’t have!” You laugh at how badly he isn’t taking your criticism. “Kang is a right foot kicker, he was coming at you from the far left, the angle was all wrong for him!”

“What! How can you do that?” He accuses.

“Do what?”

“Say exactly what coach did,” Soonyoung says as you two walk past the Jang’s and the bush you so unceremoniously hid behind that night.

“No way,” You say in slight disbelief, “But that just means I’m right!”

“I–” Soonyoung starts, “That’s not the point!”

“Sure it wasn’t, Captain,” You smirk and let Ddalgi drag you over to the patch of grass by Soonyoung’s own gated property.

“You should come see the game in person next time you’re free,” He suggests, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pockets and avoiding your eyes.

His eyes look a little pink from the cold.

“I don’t know…” Just as it was with the training center, you haven’t really been as present at the Gangnam stadium as you did when you were much younger.

“Oh come on, you used to go all the time when your dad was first made manager!”

You blush at that. You try not to read into it, but there’s a little bit of a rush that comes over you at the idea of Soonyoung taking notice of you back then, even if it was some 8 years ago and you were probably a completely different person.

“I don’t know…” You say, not wanting to commit to anything, “It’s just been so long and I’m worried it’ll feel a bit awkward just popping up like I did back at HYBE.”

“No way! You’ve been Diamonds family since like, conception!” He argues.

You give him a pointed look.

“Sunhee and Seunghee come a lot, Ahreum tries to make it to just about every game too,” Soonyoung lists down faces you’re familiar with, “And I mean, you can’t beat the home crowd.”

You can’t help the smile that blooms on your face then, “That’s very true, Captain. You drive a hard bargain.”

He smirks as if to say well, what can I say!

Then he says, eyes trained to the sky, “If it means anything, I’d want you to be there too.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Yeah?” You ask and he finally looks back.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll come to the next home game.”

You’re standing by the path that leads straight to Soonyoung’s garden gate and you tut at Ddalgi to head back towards your house as he’s relieved himself while you were conversing with Soonyoung.

“I guess this is where we say goodnight?” You say, walking backward.

“What, no way,” Soonyoung says, following you, “I’ll walk you home.”

“Soonyoung, we’re literally at your house,” You deadpan.

“Yeah, so what?” He waves it off and jogs next to you and following your stride, “I want to walk you home.”

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 10:42PM

Meet you at your gate

This text becomes Soonyoung’s go-to on nights and early mornings when he joins you and Ddalgi for short walks around the neighborhood. Even with the football season on going and your job hunting taking up both of your daytime schedules, you’ve found these walks to be the most sought after moments of your day.

Having these twenty or so minutes with Soonyoung almost everyday feels like some kind of silly dream come true. His presence feels less like something out of the ordinary, and you feel yourself beginning to feel less like you’re fumbling for something everytime you and your dog step out to meet him.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 9:36PM

No walk tonight?

had his monthly checkups today he's out like a light sorry 😔

Nah its cool You still down for a walk though?

bet

Without Ddalgi there to serve as the focal point of your walk, you’re left with little choice but to put all your attention on him. And for someone who's been doing that for most of their pre-teen years, as a twenty eight year old it serves as quite the struggle. Despite your newfound confidence in spending time with him here and there, somehow the air feels a little different this evening.

Soonyoung is set to take off for international duty in a few days and you’re loathe to admit that you’re a little sad that this little growing habit of late night walks was taking a little bit of a break. You’re lost in your thoughts when Soonyoung, expectedly, breaks the silence.

“I’m happy we’re becoming good friends,” He says.

A little goofy smile comes onto your face. You know it’s a little silly looking because you can feel the corners of your lips twitching as you keep your cool.

“We are friends, Soonyoung,” You say, “Unless, I’ve been reading things wrong these past like, fifteen years.”

“No, I mean real friends,” He insists with a bright smile, “Like friends who do stuff together and talk about their interests and stuff.”

He’s right. You’ve always just been in each other’s peripheries, but up until recently, you had never really had any real conversations or interactions with each other.

“We were around each other so much growing up,” He reminisces, “I remember you were always doing homework in your dad’s office or like, reading a book on the pitch. How you could focus, I have no idea. We were so fucking loud.”

You flush at the belated attention. Back then you had done your best to seem aloof and above it all, but the idea that Soonyoung had somehow still seen you is a lot to take in so many years later.

“I guess when you put it like that,” You start, “It is nice being friends with you after all these years.”

Friends is just the start of what you want with Soonyoung. But at this point you feel like it would be a disservice and dishonest to seek something more from him. You can’t imagine what his life must be like, if Soonyoung from sixteen years ago would have ever thought this would be his reality. So you ask him as much.

“Is it hard?”

“What is?” He clarifies.

“Making friends?”

He gives you a funny look, as if he’s not quite sure what you’re getting at.

“I mean as you, you know? Captain of the Cheongdam Diamonds, part of the World Cup team last year, and like, just being a professional player and all of that.” 

Soonyoung hums for a bit, considering his answer, “I guess it’s easy for Hoshi.” 

Now it’s your turn to give him a confused look.

“Every season we get new members on the squad and as captain, I become friends with them. Meeting new people at events or work engagements, I’m able to build good bonds and stuff like that. But I think that’s Hoshi who's good at it.”

“And Soonyoung?” You suggest.

“I think Soonyoung is a little shy,” He laughs, blowing at his hands to keep them warm. You feel your fingers twitch at your sides, wondering what his hands would feel like clasped between your own, your breath warming them up.

“Sometimes I’m still a little shocked and like, astounded that this is my life,” The two of you have gotten to his house now and he takes a moment to take the property in.

Just as many of the other houses and properties in the neighborhood, its quite a house. More modern than those on your street due to how newly developed it is. It’s definitely something he should be proud of. As the daughter of an ex-professional player, you’re aware of the economic benefits that come with the job.

And Soonyoung is very good at his job.

“Did you always know you’d make it?” You prod, joining him in marveling at his home of just four months.

He lets out a bark of a laugh, “I think I ran towards this dream like I had no other choice. I think I would have rather died than be anything other than me now.”

You turn to look at him and smile, “Well if anyone deserves it, it's you.”

“Oh come on, now you’re just laying it on thick.” He says.

“No way!” You argue, “I’ve seen every step you’ve taken to get here, Captain. You deserve it.”

“Don’t remind me, you’ve seen me through just about every goddamn phase I’ve ever been through,” He whines, rubbing at his face in embarrassment, “My academy days were brutal. Fucking Wonwoo cruised through that shit so smooth.”

You can’t help but laugh at the memory of the two of them. While Wonwoo wasn’t as permanent a fixture in your father’s office as Soonyoung was, you still saw him quite often, with him and Soonyoung stuck at the hip for years.

The left-back had always been tall and lean even as a pre-teen with black hair swooping across his forehead in what was a then-fashionable mop. There were always girls giggling in the stands talking and gushing about Wonwoo. Then you remember Soonyoung who stood next to him with his braces and choppy mullet and soft round cheeks and you can’t help but smile fondly at the days gone by.

“I think you did fine on your own.”

Soonyoung shakes his head as if there was no way you’d understand his boyhood woes, “Still, I think twelve year old me would piss himself if he ever found out we’d made it pro, we live in this house, we’re friends with you.”

Your ears perk up at that but you bite the smile threatening your lips, “Yeah, why’s that?”

“Oh come on, don’t make me say it,” He says, cheeks tinged pink.

“No! You already said it so I might as well come out with it!” You laugh.

He gapes at you for a second before shutting his mouth, shutting his eyes in embarrassment, then turning to look at you again.

“Okay, for a lot of the guys in my crop of players back then, you were kind of like the first girl we ever knew and wanted to impress, you know? It didn’t help that your dad was an actual living legend.” He says, the flush on his face seemingly contagious as you feel a warmth in your face as well.

“Shut up, now you’re just gassing me up.”

“Now you can’t take the heat?” He laughs as you two continue walking, your heart at ease as you walk past his house and not back towards your own, your walk far from over.

“Well they can all rest easy, I’m not much to fight over now,” You say lightly.

“Why not?” Soonyoung says, almost dead serious.

The atmosphere around you feels a little heavier now and you feel as though you must have said the wrong thing. You want to smack your head for feeling a bit too comfortable around Soonyoung to let the thing in the back of your mind rear its ugly head. 

You always knew your self deprecation was going to kick you in the ass one day.

“It’s nothing!” You panic, “I’m just saying, I’m nothing to write home about, is all!”

“Why would you say that?” Soonyoung says, genuinely confused.

“I–it’s nothing, Soonyoung,” You fight to get out, “Can we drop it?”

Soonyoung only nods and allows you the comfort of a change in topic. He talks about their upcoming match against Croatia; how he wishes one day he’ll be able to captain at the national level, talking about how well his nickname matches the white Tiger logo of the National team.

You’re thankful he doesn’t bring anything up for the rest of the walk, but it should come as no surprise when he walks you to your gate he speaks up on it.

“If it's worth anything, I think there’s something to write home about. Tons. Paragraphs, even.” He says it lightly, jokingly even.

The smile on his face is so radiant that it tickles that little spot in your heart that triggers a smile of your own.

“Goodnight, Soonyoung.”

“Sweet dreams!” He shouts as he walks backwards, heading to his own house, as if not wanting to turn away from you until he sees you smile.

Unknown Sender Today 8:19AM

hi hi since the boys are out on international duty u wanna lunch w sunhee n meeee oh!!! this is ahreum btw 🩷 i amsked gyu to ask soonie oppa for ur number but ur meanie bf wouldnt give it to me

so i asked coach cho hihi hope u dont mind!!

save my num pls!!! 🩷🩰🫧

WE 🩷 WAGS @KFAWAGs • may 8 New photo of #BANGAHREUM from the Fred Jewelry event! #KimMingyu #K9M #CDFC

ahreum (omg) 🩷🩰🫧 Today 8:19AM

save my num pls!!! 🩷🩰🫧

ahreum hi! uhhh idk how to say this but soonyoung and i arent dating

girl what

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Ahreum says, her pretty eyelashes fluttering as she blinks at you in disbelief.

“Ahreum,” Sunhee warns as she takes a sip of her coffee.

“But the lovestagrams!” She cries out.

You don’t know what to tell her that won’t disappoint her. It’s 3PM on a Friday and you’ve spent about three hours convincing two extremely well known WAGs that you are not in fact dating Kwon Soonyoung.

Unfortunately.

Grabbing lunch with Sunhee and Ahreum is more intimidating in theory than practice. While worlds apart in their daily lives, they were probably the two most publicized WAGs of their respective generations. 

Back when Seungcheol had been front and center for the Diamonds, Sunhee had been a permanent fixture at games. She was the WAG for ages with how long she and Seungcheol have been together. She was basically like a cool, funny older sister to you and much of the current squad.

Ahreum on the other hand was an enigma of her own. It should come as no surprise that the Diamonds’ flashiest player would have a girlfriend that matched him in renown. Mingyu’s girlfriend may stand at just five feet tall, but she commanded the room easily with her light presence and sometimes overly excitable energy. 

Must come with the job of being a top female K-Pop idol.

It should come as no shock that after your brief exchange over text, Ahreum had insisted you change into a cute little springtime dress and took a cab to a lunch spot in Garosu-gil within the hour. She had dragged you away from the maître d’ the second you arrived to sit you down in front of her and Sunhee. She’s been trying to pull out every single sordid detail of your debilitating childhood crush on the Diamonds’ captain and keeper all afternoon. 

“They aren’t lovestagrams,” You try to argue, “They’re just regular, you know, posts!”

“But they matched!” She cries out, “I was so close to turning on notifications for both of you in case you updated while I was at practice or something!”

“I guess it just happened. We went to some nice places, that's all.” You wished there was something there, but Soonyoung has had a wealth of opportunities if he was interested in you. He’s had them since you were like, twelve.

“Maybe he’s just shy,” Sunhee offers, “I saw you two at training a few weeks back. There was something there.”

“Something! Something is good,” Ahreum nods, excitedly, “I can definitely work with something!”

“Noooo,” You whine, “No working on anything!”

Ahreum flashes you an overly exaggerated frown, “Why not. You two are so cute.”

You aren’t blind to what's been happening. How you once distantly existed to Soonyoung and how rapidly that had grown into this budding friendship. And while it was fun (and at times lovely) to fantasize about what it would be like if it grew into something more, Soonyoung’s admittance that this friendship is something he appreciated keeps you grounded.

“He just doesn't like me like that,” You say, trying not to sound defeated.

“This doesn’t make sense with my fantasy.”

“I’m perfectly okay with how we are right now,” Lie. “It took years for me to befriend him like this, so I really appreciate it for what it is.” Truth.

“Years? What!” Now it was Sunhee who was shocked.

“What do you mean what!”

“Have you and Soonyoung seriously been, you know, skirting around each other for years?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “We weren’t skirting around each other, Sunhee.”

She gives you a dead serious look.

“It just–it just never happened!” You blurt out, “I had a silly little teenage crush on him and was too socially inept to do anything about it.”

Speaking it out into the world feels pathetic but it’s also been a while since you were able to let it out. You consider keeping your cards to your chest, but when you look at Sunhee and Ahreum who are both lovely and just want to chitchat, you think it shouldn’t hurt to lend your stupid teen years to today’s gossip session.

So you tell them about your disastrous attempt to have Soonyoung escort you to your Year 10 Charity Dinner and find yourself being able to smile at how melodramatic you were about it. They listen with rapt attention, coo at your antics, and can’t help the visceral melting when you retell your dad’s knight in shining armor moment.

“That shouldn’t have kept you away from Soons for so long!” Sunhee considers.

 “It didn’t! Not really,” You start, “I think I kind of just had to wake up a bit after that.”

And wake up you did.

After the Charity Dinner you realized you could never show your face back at the HYBE training center, or at least in front of Soonyoung’s squad. There was no way you could sit on the pitch and be perceived by him as Coach Cho’s daughter who couldn’t get a date and had to pull strings with her dad to get one. And all things considered, even with the nepo baby connections you still showed up with your dad on your arm.

“If I’m not mistaken, Soonyoung started playing for my dad that year,” You reminisce, “I was just too embarrassed to be in front of him, you know?”

“Soonie must have hated that,” Ahreum pouts, picking at the croissant on her plate.

You doubt it, really.

“I think,” You start, “I think I never considered being friends with Soonyoung because I was so fixated on like, liking him, even if it was probably just a silly crush, you know?”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t silly. We all have crushes! It’s a teen girl thing!” Sunhee comforts.

It is a teen girl thing, you agree. But when you look at the two women in front of you, you can’t help but marvel at how they probably cruised through their teen girl crushes. Ahreum had probably just turned twenty when she and Mingyu got together while Sunhee was literally married to her teen crush, having been Seungcheol’s childhood love, their love story a favorite among Diamonds fans.

“Well, silly or not, I was sure he didn’t like me back then,” You laugh at the bitterness of years gone by suddenly making itself known, “He showed up at my school’s charity dinner the following year.”

If his rejection of your invite was the final nail on the coffin, showing up with someone else the following year buried you six feet under.

In your 11th year, you and your friends had all decided to go stag and be each other’s dates, buying matching flowers to pin to your hair and making a whole day out of getting ready together. It was such an exciting way to look at an event that was so bittersweet to you, the unnecessary burn of humiliation still there whenever you thought about the previous year’s failed attempt to get a date.

The joy lasted for maybe three hours. After all the formalities of a fancy dinner and a charity auction for the parents in attendance, the event turns into a run of the mill dance with a subpar DJ and a makeshift dance floor. You’d skipped this part the year prior and dancing like a crazy person screaming the lyrics to Best Coast’s Boyfriend to your friends was something you were looking forward to.

You don’t get to do either because first of all, you put too much trust in the DJ to play anything other than A Thousand Years and Enchanted. Second would be that, in the midst of all the people in attendance, a face you never thought you’d see in your school gym is suddenly right in front of yours.

Soonyoung was standing there in an ill fitting blue suit and his hair haphazardly gelled down and he was your every silly daydream come to life.

You remember opening your mouth to say something to him, maybe a greeting, a question on why he was there, but you quickly shut it when his attention is pulled away by an upperclassman you weren’t familiar with.

When your gazes break, the silence that seemingly engulfed you disappears and you remember where you are and the implications of Soonyoung being there.

Boys were prohibited from campus except on select days you could count on one hand. He had to be there with someone. And that someone wasn’t you.

Your hands had grown clammy at the realization and you scramble to get your bearings. When you turn around to run off to the bathroom to maybe cry in frustration, you find yourself face to face with a boy who offers you his hand and a friendly smile.

Your poor self esteem had taken such a beating from that mere shared look with Soonyoung that this hand in front of you had felt like such a kindness. So you graciously took his hand as the opening beats of Boyfriend had come on the shitty gym speakers.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 11:37PM

Heard you had lunch out with the girls

??? howd u know

Ahreum posted on her burner

SHE HAS A BURNER??? whatd she post :(( UR SUCH A GOSSIP!!

Me??? For all I know you talked shit about me with Ahreum and Sunhee all afternoon

what happens at girl lunch stays at girl lunch

That just about confirms it! You guys were talking about me!

all bad things i promise

And here i was buying your and ddlagi gifts

oh my god soonyoung u shouldnt have

Nah its cool I just saw something and picked it up

well thank u ddalgi and i eagerly await your arrival

Is this your way of saying you miss me?

i said no such thing also!! what doin

Just got back to my room from dinner Feels weird not to go on a walk right now

well rest assured ddlagi has gone on an ill timed walk already he's down

You should take his lead then Sweet dreams, peaches

goodnight soonyoung 🤍

Mingyu’s surprise birthday party was being held at this swanky private speakeasy that was a favorite of the Diamonds’ striker according to Ahreum.

Initially you had felt discomfort when you arrived. You had come down the stairs and was immediately greeted by the smiling face of Ha Yves. You didn’t know who would be considered as party guests for people as popular and famous as Ahreum and Mingyu, but you shouldn’t have been surprised if they were all celebrities or A-Listers.

The room was filled with the members of AM♡RE still scuttling around, adding finishing touches to the long table in the middle of the room. Despite the burning feeling of being out of place, you couldn’t help the smile that had spread on your face watching these celebrities put on a surprise for a friend’s birthday.

You suddenly feel unprepared for the evening, your usual extroverted flourish having diminished quite a bit lately. 

The group is quick to greet you with a squeal of “Unnie!” and Choi Yena, who you’re familiar with, gives you a quick squeeze of a hug. The warm welcome eases your mind, introductions are given and you tell them you’re at their disposal with the decorating.

You quickly learn that this evening is a private affair of friends and family as more of Mingyu’s friends arrive, players from other teams that you’re familiar with, Ahreum’s brother being one of them. The implication of you being a part of that classification makes the pleasant feeling in your stomach grow, and the weight of imposition lifts from your shoulders.

You’re standing on a chair and holding up a gold foil balloon, helping Yves decide on the best placement when a bellowing “AMOOOOOOREEEE” cuts through the music playing through the speakers.

You bite your lip to stop the smile attempting to split your face in two.

Yves abandons you to go on and play the good leader and greets the members of the squad who were able to come, giving fist bumps and quick high fives. After the typical niceties, Soonyoung catches your eye, and laughs.

“What’re you doing all the way up there, Peaches?” He walks up to you, eyeing you from head to toe, and sending warmth throughout your body following the same path, “If you fall from there, you’ll be out for the rest of the season.”

The smile wins this round. You roll your eyes as he offers you a hand to help you down.

You pray your hand isn’t sweaty as you take his hand in yours, trying to step down as gracefully as you can without flashing the whole room. Your skirt much too short for standing on chairs even with the stockings you (thankfully) decided on last minute. You steady yourself with a quick grip on Soonyoung’s shoulder with your other hand.

Once you’re safely on the ground you flash him a thankful smile as you let go of his hand and shoulder.

“You good?” He asks, voice now a little quieter, only for you to hear.

You offer him a small nod, “Yeah, all good now. Better now.”

The rest of the night goes according to, if not better than, planned. Mingyu had jogged down the stairs with Ahreum and played the part of shocked boyfriend perfectly, beaming at her as she pulled the string of a party popper. He planted the biggest kiss onto her awaiting lips as you and the rest of the guests hooted at their PDA.

Mingyu flipped everyone off mid-kiss, of course.

You found yourself seated shoulder to shoulder with Soonyoung on your left and Vernon to your right, while Wonwoo sat in front of you. You’d spent the majority of the evening discussing films with the two of them while Soonyoung remarked about ones he’d yet to see, saying, “We should add that to our list.”

The list being an ever growing shared note on the Notes app on both your phones with a working list of movies you think he needs to watch.

“Dude, just get a Letterboxd account,” Vernon suggests.

“I said that too!” You laugh.

“Haha, okay laugh all you guys want,” Soonyoung says, attempting to stand up for himself, “But I just figured that shared note thing out and that works just fine for us, thank you!”

You elbow him playfully and he sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

“I’m getting another Coke, Wons you want one?” Soonyoung asks as he downs the last of his soda.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get another later.”

He turns to you, “Another daiquiri, passenger princess?”

You flush as he pretty much announces to everyone who was paying attention that you were coming home with him. Well, technically just riding his car to his house then walking on foot to yours as has become your routine from nights out.

“No, I think I’m good for tonight.” The realization that you were going to be seated next to him on the way home quickly sobers you up. There was no way you could get sloshed now.

He nods in understanding as he undrapes his arm from around the back of your chair and gets up.

Vernon has been pulled into a conversation by the other end of the table and you find yourself sitting in comfortable silence with Wonwoo.

Soonyoung’s best friend has become a more familiar presence in your life just as much as Soonyoung himself. It’s nice, you think, getting to know the quieter half of this duo you’ve known for so long.

You learned that Wonwoo’s not really all that quiet when Soonyoung is there to prod and pick on him, and that Soonyoung is so much more easily humbled with the keeper of all his secrets present.

“You two look like a couple,” Wonwoo says after a while.

You gawk at him, unable to think of a quick enough retort.

“Just say, ‘thank you, Wonwoo’”” He says with an easy laugh, quoting himself from a few days ago.

Now you scowl, “Take that back, Wonwoo!”

“Why? It’s the truth!” He argues, “I don’t think either of you notice how close you two always are.”

“We are not!”

“You can’t tell because you’re too busy ogling my best friend. I can because you guys keep asking me to come hang out with you two so it seems like you’re not out on a date!” There’s a smile on his face and while he’s accusatory, Wonwoo seems to get some joy out of pointing out your glaringly obvious crush on Soonyoung.

“You’re delusional,” you attempt to argue and Wonwoo can only sputter at you.

“Takes one to know one?” He retaliates. 

Before you can stick your tongue out at him, pulling a card from Soonyoung’s repertoire of moves, the far end of the table starts to sing Happy Birthday.

Soonyoung is precariously carrying a two tier birthday cake and a beer pint filled to the brim with ice and Coke as he yells out the words to Happy Birthday. He’s beaming as he presents the cake to Mingyu and Ahreum urges Mingyu to make a wish.

He closes his eyes quickly, makes quick work of blowing out all the candles and giving Ahreum a kiss on the cheek.

Soonyoung cheers the loudest again and almost drops the cake as he sets it down on the table. His antics makes the rest of the guests laugh but next to him Yves, playfully whacks him on the shoulder and chastises him with a litany you can’t hear from where you’re seated.

Soonyoung bats his eyes at her and pouts cutely, no doubt attempting to ease her annoyance. You feel the blood draining from cheeks as the green monster of jealousy creeps up behind you and you avert your eyes from the scene. 

When you turn back to your drink, now more water than strawberry daiquiri, you catch the look on Wonwoo’s face.

There’s a devious little smirk on his silly little cat boy face and you want to slap it off of him.

“Quit it, Jeon.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Cho.”

“I mean that look on your face,” You say with an index finger wagging in front of his glasses, “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t have a look on my face,” He laughs as he sips on his glass of Coke.

“Yes, you do! It's a sneaky little face,” you pout, “Don’t you have your own love life to worry about?”

His smirk grows into a full on grin, his teeth on full display, “First of all, no I don’t. And second, so you admit it? You’re in love with Soonyoung.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears. You don’t dare to say anything out loud for fear of who might hear because you don’t know what to say.

“Wonwoo I—“

“You know, you don’t have to worry about that,” he says, “You don’t have to worry about anything. Not with Soonyoung. Never with Soonyoung.”

Not long after everyone had their fill of the cake Ahreum lovingly baked for the occasion, people started splitting off into their own little groups around the bar to talk or have more drinks. Still, you were seated next to Soonyoung, but this time making a conscious effort to keep a comfortable distance between you two. His arm may still be draped around your chair, but this time you rested your crossed arms on the table in front of you, trying your best to stay focused on the story Heejin was telling.

You almost jolt in shock at the warm hand that rests on your knee and the breath at your ear when Soonyoung whispers, “Let’s go ahead?”

When you turn to him and try not to flinch at the close proximity between the two of you.

“You look like you’re about to nod off,” he chuckles.

Humming and nodding in agreement with him, Soonyoung clears his throat and announces, “You guys keep going but we’re headed out.”

There’s a chorus of disappointed “awws” that follow as the two of you stand and Soonyoung helps you into the coat you brought for the cold. When you turn to wave goodbye to everyone still at the party, you see Wonwoo giving you a shit eating grin and you fail to stop yourself from sticking your tongue out at him one last time that night.

“D’you have fun tonight?” Soonyoung asks, eyes flicking over to you for a second before turning back to the road before you.

“Hhm, yeah. I’m glad I went,” You say, “I almost bailed for a second.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You consider for a moment if you should tell Soonyoung about your afternoon before the party.  But you worry that maybe trauma dumping on him after having had such a good evening with his friends and teammates would sour the day. So you keep your mouth shut and try to wrack your brain for an acceptable reason to turn down an invite.

“I bombed at practice today,” He says out of nowhere but lightly, with a bit of a chuckle, and you know that a corner of his lip is upturned.

The focus you put in trying not to turn your head and watch him drive is commendable. You try your utmost best not just keep your eyes on him as he does the most mundane of things.

“Got into trouble for it, your dad yelled at me and all. Said I wasn’t focused.” He clicks his tongue, shakes his head and continues telling you about his day. “It didn’t get better of course, ‘cause I started overthinking it and I got worse. But you know what?”

“What?” You ask, finally looking over at him as he pulls to a stop at a busy intersection.

The red glow of the traffic light streams in through the car’s windshield despite the heavy tint and washes Soonyoung in a moody glow, only cut by the flashing lights of the LED billboards that are so commonplace in Gangnam.

“It ended,” He says as he turns to you as well, the red light offering him a respite, “Training ended and I got in my car and drove over to that speakeasy. I celebrated my teammate’s birthday, had a bunch of laughs with my friends, and now I’m driving you home.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll go back to training and try again. And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll talk to your dad again and ask for his help. And when that ends, I’ll come home and I’ll probably ask you if you want to go for a walk.”

He ends all of that with a big, bright, beautiful smile that makes your lower lip wobble. Soonyoung is so wonderful and your heart feels so vulnerable. You’re worried that you might end up going off on a litany about how your school girl crush from nearly sixteen years ago had awoken from its dormant slumber on a chilly evening in March, and was wreaking havoc in your heart and brain as it fed on every right and perfect thing Soonyoung had said to you since then.

But you keep it in. 

Instead you let out a shudder of a breath and tell Soonyoung about your day.

“I feel like I’m running out of time,” You start, “Which is stupid because I’m like, twenty eight and probably not dying soon, and I know you probably won’t get it because you’ve had a career since you were like, nineteen, and that’s why I don’t think I wanted to get into it with you but also because I don’t want you to think about how pathetic I am.”

Saying all of that in one breath almost has you panting, but more than anything, it’s that worry you’ve been trying to bury in your chest all these weeks, pretending you were above it all, that’s been weighing you down.

“You know how I’ve been trying to get a new job right?”

He makes a sound of agreement, not wanting to cut you off while you were clearly in the middle of a tirade.

“Well, I feel like I’ve been floundering, you know? I put in all these applications and I do the interviews, and I do great because I know I can turn it on when I have to but it’s just such a fucking drag!” 

You know you’re whining but you’ve already started and everything is coming out like a tidal wave from your mouth.

“I’ve been at this for months and today I got an email that sounds really promising but I still haven’t really gotten hired and I feel like I’m going around in circles with these companies, trying to convince them I’m the shit but it’s not like I really care all that much about them, really.”

“I just don’t want to keep wasting my time doing nothing and being no one.”

Silence. Breathe in, breathe out.

“Then I kind of got into it with my dad this afternoon,” You finally let out, “I was… I was planning to come see you at practice today. And he kind of, I don’t know… He kind of told me I couldn’t be there. That it was private practice today and that none of the girls were going to be there either and that… that maybe I was overstaying my welcome when I had no affiliation with the Diamonds.”

Soonyoung’s gripping the steering wheel firmer, from what you can tell and you want to ease his mind, but your own was aflame with the indignation you had felt that afternoon.

“I thought about skipping on Ahreum’s invite because well, I didn’t know who would be there, but I knew Ahreum and I kind of know Mingyu, and I knew that place was going to be chock full of beautiful, famous, successful people, and I just didn’t know if I could handle that after everything, you know?”

You don’t realize that you’ve made it all the way home throughout your tiny meltdown and Soonyoung has been idling in front of your family’s garden gate for a minute or two.

“Then?” Soonyoung prompts.

“What do you mean?” You’re confused.

“Then what happened?” He clarifies.

“What do you mean ‘then what happened?’ Soonyoung you were there,” You point out with an arched brow. You’re a little peeved.

“Just play along, Peaches. Don’t be a soil sport,” He encourages.

“Fine. Then I got dressed and went straight to Mingyu’s party. I helped set up, and then you guys arrived, and we had dinner and drinks, and talked about movies, and… we got in your car, and we talked, and now you’re dropping me off at home.”

“I think our days turned out pretty okay in the end,” Soonyoung says with a gentle smile.

Oh.

Oh.

soonyoung 🥅 Today 1:47PM

ddalgi misses you ig :/ come back from jeju fasterrrrr

Yes maam! And I'll make sure we win too Don't want to upset Ddalgi with a poor showing

of course he'd be so upset

This weeks feels like its going by sooooo slowly Will you be at the gala?

hate to say it but ya

I'll see you then :)

The gala Soonyoung had mentioned was the Gangnam District Arts Gala. The exclusive gala was to be televised live and the guestlist was filled with brand execs, celebrity performers, and A-List socialites. 

The press release was that they were pledging obscenely large donations to uplift the arts and encourage the young, creative minds of students in schools with underdeveloped arts programs. It was a fairly new development and was something that you felt was just an excuse for rich people to dress up, drink, and bask in each other’s wealth.

Initially the idea of an entire sports team and their managers and staff being a part of such an event was uncommon. You understood if a handful of the first team was present, personalities that were instantly affiliated with big name brands like Mingyu, Minghao, Jeonghan, and even at times, Soonyoung. All the connections with the Diamonds instantly made sense when you found out the brains behind the operation.

The whole thing was planned under the watchful eye of Choi Seoah, Seungcheol’s business-mogul younger sister and Jeonghan’s girlfriend. 

If you paid more attention to local entertainment news you’d be more aware of how Seoah wanted this gala to be a “family affair” and having her childhood team and Gangnam representatives, the Cheongdam Diamonds, to not only attend but also co-host the event was her goal.

You hated it as soon as you heard about it, only to somehow be roped into it last minute.

All of that led to you sitting next to your dad at the dinner table, waiting for the team to arrive from their red carpet appearance. As your dad’s (begrudging) plus one, you were free from being in front of the public eye, with the coaching staff opting to come through a different entrance. But with the first team being the event’s hosts, they were considered one of the highlights of the evening.

There was a commotion as soon as they stepped inside the venue, and rightfully so. You knew these events were always somehow about the fashion, and even you weren’t exempted from the frills and frivolities of looking good for an evening. But nothing could have prepared you for how Soonyoung would be dressed this evening.

If there was ever an expert at having their breath being taken away at the sight of Soonyoung, you would certainly be a credible candidate. Soonyoung was dressed in smart pinstripe pants and a blazer speckled with sparkling gems, but the focal point of his look had been the sheer black tank top he was wearing underneath. You had felt your throat go dry and the hairs on your arms raise when he came through the doors and the team was led to their seats.

You spend much of the night willing Soonyoung to look your way, but with him being the captain of the team meant to be the figureheads of the event, he’s got his hands full speaking to other honored guests and VIPs wanting to get a chance to meet him. 

There’s a pit in your stomach where jealousy collects and starts to overflow everytime a beautiful, statuesque woman comes close to him, whispers in his ear for him to hear her better, and laughs at his jokes. You know they’re funny, and whatever joke it is, you’re sure you’ve heard it before and laughed harder.

The silliness of your mindset looms over your head like an angry cloud and you can’t help as it sours your mood even when Ahreum’s girl group comes on to perform their latest song. When it ends she forgoes sitting back with her group and you catch her slipping away with Mingyu as you had excused yourself to go to the lady’s room.

Your neck feels stiff from having to crane it to get a decent view of Soonyoung’s table the whole night but being outside of the main venue gives you a second to breathe and for you to ease your mind. When you spot a line leading out of the closest bathroom, you decide it and opt to look around the intricately designed foyer. You empty your mind as you run your gloved finger along the edge of a gilded art frame, glistening under the flickering light of a nearby decorative candle.

“I told you I’d find you,” comes a voice from behind you that spooks you so bad, you tip the decoration you were toying with off the edge of the table.

His years of practice honing his reflexes kick in and Soonyoung’s able to catch the frame before it crashes to the ground. He places it back on the table carefully, no one the wiser about its almost demise.

“What did I say about coming up behind me like that, Soonyoung!” You chastise raising a hand to slap him playfully on the chest. You stop short when your eyes catch his outfit once again and how you could see his skin so clearly even through the opaque black fabric.

Soonyoung catches your hand mid air and brings it to his lips, pressing them lightly against the silky fabric of your gloves and looks down at you, “You clean up good, peaches.”

Your skin burns so hot you feel sweat start to dot the back of your neck and you tear your hand away from him. You pretend to be unaffected, giving him a playful roll of your eyes, “You haven’t even seen the half of it yet, Kwon.”

The two of you have found yourselves in a quieter hallway, away from prying eyes and smartphones with a million megapixel cameras. It’s been about a week since you’ve seen each other and the weight of the albeit short time away from each other lifts from your mind.

“Have you been good?”

“Mmhhm,” You hum, “Better now.”

As much as you wish you could whisk him away from the party forever, you know you have to give him back to his teammates. To your surprise, Soonyoung pulls up a chair from a vacant table next to theirs and situates it right next to where he sits down.

You gawk at him for a second, unsure if you could fuck up the seating arrangement at a whim, but before he says anything, a tall elegant woman situates herself on Jeonghan’s lap and drapes a slender arm around his shoulders.

“Seoah, this is Mr. Cho’s daughter,” Jeonghan says and you straighten up with a start, offering your name and hand for his girlfriend to shake.

“Finally, we meet properly!” She says with a tinkling laugh, “Hannie’s told me all about you and Soonie. Come, sit!”

Upon her insistence you situate yourself on the chair Soonyoung had pulled up just as Ahreum and Mingyu arrive at the table, panting, and Ahreum having changed out of her performance costume into a pretty pale pink dress, her hair flowing down her back in pretty waves.

When she notices you seated at the table, she lets go of Mingyu’s hand to run over to you with a hug and a squeal of “Unnie, you’re here!”

Had Seungcheol and Sunhee been in attendance, there’s no doubt they would be seated at this table with the rest of you, and it comes to you belatedly that you were seated at the WAG table. Weeks earlier and you might have been uncomfortable at that fact, displeased with being out of place, but the longer you think about it, the more you wished that it could be the norm for you.

You’d been toying with the idea in your mind for a few days now, that maybe, just maybe, you did want to be a WAG. Maybe what’s been going on between you and Soonyoung wasn’t just a friendship that was long delayed. 

Maybe, just maybe, it was okay to indulge in the prospect of Soonyoung reciprocating your feelings, and that this long standing crush was no longer unreciprocated.

The conversation between you and the rest of the table’s occupants was light and fun and with Seoah calling for more champagne every so often, you felt the tension at your shoulders melt away. Even when your father had dropped by, asking if you’d be riding back home with him, you smiled at him brightly, saying you’d find your own ride back.

You don’t miss the nod and salute Soonyoung gives him from beside you.

When you let out an unintentional yawn, the alcohol making your eyelids droop slightly, Soonyoung pushes back the sleeve of his blazer to check the time.

“We can head out if you want,” He says, “I’m sure Ddlagi’s waiting for us.”

Your heart soars at his words. You nod at him and stand as he holds his hand out to pull you up.

“Alright, that’s a wrap for the two of us,” He says, tugging off his blazer jacket, “I’ll see you guys on Monday. Ahreum, Seoah, lovely as always.”

Alarm bells are ringing and sirens are blaring in your head as Soonyoung’s bare arms come into view and you can see how the muscles of his back and stomach move beneath his skin as he waves and motions for you to follow him.

Soonyoung goes up behind you, steadying you in your heels, and places his blazer over your bare shoulders—the heat from his clothing warming you up in a split second. Ahreum’s giggle from behind you catches your attention and you manage to see her wink from the corner of your eye.

“Bye, everyone!” You greet, “Thanks for letting me crash your table.”

“Any time, lovely!” Seoah says with a flippant wave of her hand, “I’ll try to make it to lunch with you girls next time, please be there!”

“Have fun, unnie!” Ahreum calls out and you don’t know whether to smile or curse her as you and Soonyoung walk away.

“I like sitting with the WAGs,” You say kind of mindlessly as you stare out of the window, watching as Gangnam passes you and Soonyoung by.

“Yeah?” He says, encouraging you to go on.

“Yup,” You say with a pop, “It feels like I’m part of a sisterhood or something when I’m with them.”

“Yeah, they all got really close in no time, especially when Tiny came into the picture,” Soonyoung recalls, “Seoah and Sunhee are pretty much sisters now, so it was exciting for them to have someone new join in.”

“I hope they’ll welcome me as warmly,” You blurt out.

Fuck. Idiot.

There’s a beat of silence and you feel yourself floundering as if you were underwater. 

“What do you mean?” Soonyoung asks, cutting into the silence.

You keep your eyes trained out of the window, willing him to let it the fuck go, but you know he won’t.

He’s about to turn to your street and you consider for a split second if it’d be feasible for you to jump out of his Maserati right this very second and hide under your sheets. Soonyoung does you a kindness by not saying anything until he pulls up in front of your house, saving you the awkwardness of having to walk home with him from his house like you usually do.

You try to quickly unbuckle your seatbelt but the second you turn your head to look for the button to press, Soonyoung gently takes your chin in between his fingers and brings your face closer to his.

In this position there’s no way for you to escape his gaze and under it you feel like you’re on fire.

“I’ll ask again,” Soonyoung starts in a whisper, as if he spoke any louder that bubble that surrounded you would pop and shatter this very moment, “What did you mean?”

This close and you can take him in, really look at him, smell him, breathe him.

“I mean,” you say slowly, gathering all the nerves you can muster, “That I want to sit on the WAG bench and cheer your name during games. I want to wear your jersey and have you dedicate saves for me.”

You gulp as you feel yourself grow in conviction, “I want to hold your trophies with you at the end of the season and bad mouth refs who give out shitty calls when you have to deal with a penalty. I want it all, Soonyoung. I want it with you.”

There it was, laid out in front of him, plain as day and no way to misinterpret. Your silly teenage fantasies had followed you into adulthood and had grown into real life yearning, hoping that the boy you had watched grow up into the most wonderful man would just take you out of your misery and say yes, that he too had felt the same tugging at his heart when he was around you. 

Soonyoung’s silence was killing you as the seconds felt like hours but when his fingers twitched beneath your chin, your heart gave off a thunderous thump, and he pulled you in closer, and your eyes slipped shut.

You let out a breath through parted lips and you feel the warmth of Soonyoung’s own shaky exhale on your lower lip. Just as you feel his lip press against your own–

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

In a flash your eyes fly open and you pull yourself away from him. Soonyoung is shellshocked at the speed at which you put distance between the two of you and how you scramble to successfully free yourself from his presence.

“Wait–wait a second, listen to me!” He tries to say, but everything sounds like a garbled mess to you.

You feel like you’re underwater again, your nose flaring as you try to get as much air into your lungs. You can feel your lips turning downwards and the telltale wobble of your lower lip. The heat and sting from behind your eyes tell you that you’re seconds away from falling apart.

How stupid. How stupid to think that after all this time he would see you as anything other than his coach’s daughter. His coach’s stupid, pathetic daughter who couldn’t do anything right, couldn’t achieve anything even after all this time.

When you free yourself from the mess of the seatbelts and you’re able to wrangle the door of his car open, you stomp out, nearly tripping over yourself in your stupid heels. Soonyoung gets out as well and tries to call out to you without causing a scene.

You’re about to open the gate to your house when you realize you’re still wearing his blazer. You’ve grown comfortable in it and the warmth of him, and it's agony as you rip it off, turn around and throw it in his face.

“Go fuck yourself, Soonyoung.”

You expect your anger and grief to fuel a tirade but you find yourself moving so slowly and so cautiously around your own home. You had guided the front door shut so that only the clicking of the locks and the springs in the knob disturbed the silence. You pressed your back against the door and held your breath as you watched the shadows move on the walls as Soonyoung pulled out of your family’s driveway. 

Only when you were doused in darkness could you slowly exhale.

You feel so much smaller than you are as you tiptoe up the stairs, clutching your heels to your chest, and lifting the skirt of your dress. You had felt so beautiful tonight, only to come home feeling more rotten and ugly than you ever have in your life.

When you close your bedroom door behind you, you turn to the Golden Retriever curled up by your pillows and you sniffle. Then the first tear drops when you think of how you’re supposed to let Ddlagi know that Soonyoung won’t be coming over anymore. You bury your face into Ddalgi’s coat and allow the sobs to wrack your body.

You had always thought it would be beneath you to cry over a boy. 

Feeling disappointment, anger, or sadness you would understand, it would only be normal to do so. But you felt like your body was caving in on you, the embarrassment of his rejection, the idea that you had misread all the queues, that you were deluded this whole time, thinking that maybe after all these, you would finally be worth a second thought to Soonyoung.

While the thought of losing him as a lover hurt you, the idea that you may lose him as a friend forever after what you had done has you shedding more tears. You took bits and pieces of every walk you’d been on, every movie you watched, the dinners you ate, and hid them away in your heart because you had longed for Soonyoung for so long, that all these moments were truly treasured.

But you’re also angry.

You’re angry because you know there must have been something. Sunhee had seen it that day when you came to practice, Ahreum had thought you were a couple just from photos, and Wonwoo, Wonwoo had reassured you that with Soonyoung you hadn’t a thing to worry about.

Have you all misunderstood? It couldn’t have all been in your head. Some part of it must have been true, and maybe still is. 

Your anger sets you into motion. Despite having been the one to walk away in anger, you feel like maybe you were entitled to an explanation. If you were going to cut Soonyoung off from your life from here on out, you wanted to do it on your own terms.

In the shower, you worry that you were speedrunning through the stages of grief. From how immensely you felt for Soonyoung and for just how long you’ve been carrying a torch for him. For the chance that he’d look your way and think of you as someone more than just your father’s daughter who had watched him from where she sat doing her homework.

You want to yell at him. You want to curse him and shove him and tell him how much you felt for him. Maybe that way he would understand how much he hurt you.

You dress quickly and haphazardly, not caring how you look, because you’ve let him see you look worse in the past weeks, grown so comfortable in his presence to truly be yourself around him. All your past actions feel like double edged swords. On one hand you were elated, so taken with how things had panned out before this evening and on the other, you felt the dread of regret, of sharing so much of yourself, and so willingly, to someone who could walk away without a second thought.

As you rush down the stairs you childishly you wonder if your father could kick him off the team for breaking your heart.

You make a conscious effort to close up after yourself quietly, guiding the door shut gently, just as you had earlier that evening. When you turn around, your heart falls to your stomach at the sight before you.

Soonyoung stands in front of your gate looking just as he did that first night he walked with you and Ddalgi. Soft, barefaced, and dressed in a ratty hoodie and sweats, you find your false bravado whittling away in his presence. His ability to render you speechless felt so unfair but you can’t help but acquiesce to it as you always do.

You loved him like this, just him, the him you had grown so used to and so comfortable around, and so in love with.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

And that’s why you don’t stop him when he unlatches the gate and walks up towards you. You don’t stop him when he goes to stand right in front of you, towering over you and bowing his head to be closer to you. You don’t stop him when he takes your face into his hands, tilting it ever so slightly so your eyes are locked. You don’t stop him when he uses his thumb to wipe away at a stray tear that betrays the strong front you wanted to put on.

You don’t stop him when he says, “I’m sorry for what I did. And I’m sorry if this is selfish, but I’ll never forgive myself if you think I don’t want you, that you don’t fill my every fucking waking moment, that I could let you walk away like you did.”

Your chin is trembling with the effort of keeping yourself together but a ragged sob escapes your mouth as you try to make sense of what Soonyoung’s saying.

Your chin is trembling with the effort of keeping yourself together but a ragged sob escapes your mouth as you try to make sense of what Soonyoung’s saying.

The hard look of determination on his face softens at your reaction and he shushes you, tries to ease your thundering heart but how can you when he says, “I have wanted you for so long. How could you not have known?” and finally presses his lips to yours.

Soonyoung was fifteen when he got the shock of his life

He was in the middle of a scrimmage game against the other members of his squad when he caught Coach Cho Woonjae coming down from the second pitch. His hands were already sweating in his gloves but he felt flames lick at his feet, willing himself to move quicker, react faster, anything to catch the attention of the living legend that was walking his way.

They wrapped up the game with his team managing a 1-0 win, extending his scrimmage clean sheet record. He made a show of cheering his team on, clapping them on the back and showering them in praises.

Wonwoo had raised a skeptical brow at him, clearly having noticed his odd behavior.

“You’re scaring me,” Wonwoo commented as he rubbed the sweat from his eyes.

“Fuck off,” Soonyoung laughed, “Coach Cho is watching.”

Soonyoung was eager for their coach to wrap up their training, he had wanted to go up to his idol so badly, to ask him if he saw how he played, if he had improved in any way, or if he had any wisdom to impart from one goalkeeper to another.

It turned out that Soonyoung didn’t have to do anything at all. Once the final team huddle had dispersed, Coach Cho had come over to Soonyoung himself, clapping him on the back and greeting him with a “Good job today, Kwon.”

Soonyoung tried his best not to sputter, gave him a curt bow of his head and said, “Thank you so much, Coach. I learned from the best. I meant from you! Because, you know, you’re the best.”

I’m a fucking idiot, Soonyoung thought to himself.

Coach Cho could only laugh at his blunder and offered him a thanks, son, so at the very least Soonyoung could take pride in having been funny. But when his laughter died down, he had affixed Soonyoung with a look that had been, at that time, unreadable.

Then, with no preamble, Coach Cho asked him if he could take his daughter to a school dance.

When he stumbled into the locker room, the rest of his teammates were already undressing, pulling out toiletries from their lockers and a fresh change of clothes. Soonyoung was still shell shocked when he sat down next to Wonwoo, body moving on autopilot as he dodged gangly elbows and stray towels being tossed around.

“What’d Coach Cho say to you?” Wonwoo asked in a hushed voice.

“He asked me if I could take Jiae to a dance. I-if I could be her date.”

Wonwoo’s jaw had dropped comically, not having expected that.

“Well?” He had urged.

Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean well?”

“Well what did you say, dumbass?” He asked with a flick to Soonyoung’s to ear.

“I–” Soonyoung had trouble voicing it out, because now that he was repeating it, it sounded even more stupid than when he had blurted it out to Coach Cho, “I said I couldn’t.”

“What?!” Wonwoo had yelled, pulling the attention of some of the players sitting by them.

“I can’t go that day,” Soonyoung had tried to reason out, but the more he thought about it, the more he regretted saying no so quickly. 

“What could you possibly be doing that is somehow more important than taking Coach Cho’s daughter to a dance?”

Soonyoung drops his head into his hands, groaning out an answer.

“What was that?” Wonwoo taunted.

“I said, I’m getting my braces out.”

Word of Coach Cho’s request had spread amongst the Under-18 and Under-15 team like wildfire and Soonyoung had never felt so embarrassed in his life. Not because it was embarrassing to have been asked, but because he had said no. 

But for many of those he had called teammates, it had become a running joke that maybe they too would be tapped to take you to this school dance, and it made Soonyoung’s blood boil at how crass the thoughts of some of his teammates were.

“I still can’t believe you said no,” Youngho had said to Soonyoung when he had dropped his backpack onto the bench in front of his locker. 

Soonyoung’s shoulders were heavy with the fatigue from his commute from school and this was the last thing he wanted to deal with. He wanted to run a few laps, do a few drills, then pummel whoever his team was playing against during the scrimmage to the ground.

His teammate’s thoughts and comments were far from what he wanted to deal with that day.

Wonwoo had given him a warning look, to just ignore it and move on, and against his usual instinct, Soonyoung followed his best friend’s advice.

“Dude, imagine if you had said yes and like, impressed her or whatever.” Youngho had started up again, “You’d probably make it all the way to the first team on Cho’s good graces alone.”

But there was only so much that Soonyoung could stomach.

“Anyway, I’m sure Cho’ll ask someone else after practice tonight,” Youngho continued, “She must really want to fuck a footballer or something.”

He doesn’t think he’d ever moved so fast in his life, but within seconds Soonyoung had Youngho up against a locker, his body hit the metal and alerted everyone in the room that a fight was about to break out. 

Soonyoung had no intention of actually hurting anyone, it wasn’t in his nature, but his blood had boiled at how something so innocent as an invite to a dance was suddenly being used to dirty your name without you even knowing.

“You’re disgusting,” Soonyoung had said through gritted teeth, “Even if that was the case, I’m sure she wouldn’t stoop as low as you.”

Even as one of the tallest players on the team, that day Youngho looked small under the fire of Soonyoung’s rage.

Shortly after the confrontation in the lockers and both Soonyoung and Youngho’s one week suspension from training, any talk of dances and daughters had died down just as all topics of locker room discussion did. 

But it lived in Soonyoung’s brain incessantly.

From the moment Coach Cho had asked him, he had rewinded back to every single memory of you he could recall. Soonyoung had considered you a permanent fixture at the HYBE training center. He could recall that very first time he came into Coach Cho’s office after training, and you were seated by the coffee table with your nose in something or another. 

Back then you had been so intimidating and snooty that he never dared to talk to you even as he waited for his turn to talk to your dad.

As he grew more comfortable in his place at the training center, no longer gobsmacked at every shiny trophy or starstruck at every first team player that passed him in the hallways, you had started to look more warm towards him too. He was proud to have gotten a smile at the very least, when he would wave to you goodbye.

The years that followed were spent relentlessly chasing his dream, spending every minute that he could to prove his mettle at his sport, and that left him with very little time for anything else.

It wasn’t that Soonyoung never had anyone catch his eye, he just never really did anything about it. Well, that and no one had ever expressed any interest in him. He tries not to focus on that, despite how he enjoys the spoils of the wars waged between the girls vying for Wonwoo’s affections. He never longed for that kind of attention.

But when he received it from you, despite how it was through that awkward conversation of an invite from your father, he considered it, even if it was just for a smidge of a second.

The smidge of a second grew into minutes, then hours, then days. When Soonyoung found himself wondering why you hadn’t visited the training center in weeks, he started to worry.

“What if she thinks I don’t like her?” Soonyoung said to Wonwoo.

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo asked as he strapped his shin guards on.

“Jiae,” Soonyoung whispered, “What if she thinks I don’t like her.”

Wonwoo could only snort, “You bet she thinks you don’t like her, you said no to her dad.”

Soonyoung groaned as he hit himself in the face with his gloves.

“Why does it matter,” Wonwoo pushed, “You like her?”

Soonyoung could only blush.

“Soonyoung, please don’t tell me you have a crush on your idol’s daughter?” 

The silence was deafening.

Soonyoung keeps his crush on you like a dirty secret.

It was probably the world’s worst kept dirty secret, but nevertheless, Soonyoung persisted. 

After having blown the chance to take you to a school dance with the blessing of your father, he had been hoping to get the chance to make it up to you. He just wanted to know, did you like him like that? Why hadn’t anyone else on the squad gotten asked to take you to the dance but him? Why him?

Your presence at the training center had gone from few and far in between to once in a blue moon. And as much as Soonyoung hated to say it, it made him sad. He doesn’t want to assume that it was because of him, but just not being able to see you at all for weeks and eventually months at a time was a departure from what he was so used to.

Sometimes he went into Coach Cho’s office just in the hopes that he'd see you seated by the coffee table, reading a book, and he could just wave hi.

After about a year of your scarce training visits, Soonyoung realizes he may have underestimated his crush on you. While there was little he could actually do in between school, training, and hagwon, that didn’t stop him from silly little daydreams and fantasies of seeing you in the stands at one of their official league matches.

That year Soonyoung and Wonwoo had officially joined the U-18 team that Coach Cho personally handled and it was the start of the most grueling period of football growth of Soonyoung’s life. With a defensive expert leading the team, there were suddenly more eyes on him, greater expectations, and the added pressure of playing in front of his hero almost every single day.

There were many nights that Soonyoung thought training would end on a much lighter note if you were watching.

The first time Soonyoung saw you in months was on a random Wednesday evening when he was on clean up duty. He was trailing behind the rest of the guys, wheeling the cart of training balls to the correct storage rooms when he saw you leaning against the wall by your father’s office.

He doesn’t know if you had seen him, but he ducked into the storage room regardless, self conscious of how he looked post-training with grass stains on his white kit and his hair stuck haphazardly to his face.

From where he was hiding he simply appreciated seeing you in the flesh again after so long. He tried to make a mental tally of things that may have changed since he last saw you, maybe your hair was a little longer, or your lips were colored a different shade by a new lip gloss. Soonyong didn’t know, he was always bad at those things, all he knew at that time was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen and that he had missed you.

Wonwoo thought it was a horrible idea. And in hindsight, he was right—but hindsight was always 20/20 and Soonyoung believed back then that Wonwoo was almost laughably blind. So, being Soonyoung, he had ignored his best friend’s wise words and jumped head straight into his plan.

The plan being to surprise you and woo you at your school dance. Soonyoung had thanked his lucky stars when his cousin had mentioned it off hand that she was going to dress shopping for a school event that was coming up. Soonyoung usually tuned this kind of talk out when he spent weekends with his extended family, but the mention of a school dance had perked up his ears and suddenly he was begging on his hands and knees for his cousin to take him as her designated plus one.

Very rarely did Soonyoung use his placement in the Cheongdam Diamonds’ U-18 team as leverage, but even his cousin couldn’t deny how impressive it would look to take him to the dance.

What he didn’t expect was having to fend off everyone that assumed he was dating his snooty older cousin.

He didn’t expect coming face to face with you before he was ready to sweep you off of your feet.

He didn’t expect that you’d turn your back at him instantly, and take another boy’s hand in your own.

He didn’t expect how badly it would hurt to have been rejected without even getting to say a word.

He tried. He tried to keep away, to be satisfied having that brief teenage crush on you. He had fallen into bed with the most beautiful models and some of the most promising rising actresses, but found himself going home thinking about that seventeen year old girl who had turned away from him and danced with another boy.

Soonyoung supposes, after a while, that maybe he doesn’t deserve you. He was a far cry from what your father was at his age and having been raised in the game, the lifestyle that he now had, it was possible that you would be far from impressed. 

On particularly bad nights, Soonyoung thinks of the worst: that maybe you despised him and what he stood for as a professional athlete. Maybe you had sworn to absolutely never be with an athlete, that they were all good for nothing playboys and tricksters. On those nights Soonyoung tried to think of the positive: You’d probably never date any of his teammates.

The spark that set off a wildfire in his heart that night he came across you and Ddalgi had been warming his body for weeks. He’s never felt as weightless in his life as when he had managed to place himself in your life after so many years. He tried to stay satisfied, happy to be your friend and to stay by your side in any way, shape, or form you preferred.

But it was so difficult.

Every time he got close to you, he could feel the way his heart thumped louder, faster, telling him that you were here, just out of reach, but if he just put out his hand and took your own, then maybe you could calm it, satisfy it.

But Soonyoung’s made nearly a million and one mistakes when it came to you. And this evening was the worst. Despite his best efforts, he almost always seemed to fuck it up with you, and he couldn’t believe he had managed to hurt you to the point of tears.

He’d spend every second, minute, hour of every day making it up to you if he could, to lavish you in words that would put your mind at ease, make your heart race, and set your skin aflame.

Soonyoung’s made nearly a million and one mistakes when it came to you, but pressing his lips to your throat, and holding you down onto his bed to hear you sigh out his name, would not be one of them.

This evening felt like a dream, Soonyoung thought. In his rational mind there was no way any of it could have happened outside of his imagination. From the second he had pressed his lips to yours, he thought that he was on borrowed time, that just as easily as he had gotten you, you could slip away, change your mind, turn him away.

But when you had pulled away from him and your eyes had met for the first time since the revelation that there were so many years of yearning between you both, your gaze had set his blood aflame.

There was no other way about it. He had to have you.

It was a bold move to take your hand, something he had been longing to do for ages, and tug you towards the direction of his own house. It seemed awfully presumptuous but the way you gripped onto his arm, wrapping your fingers around his bicep and nodded in agreement was all the confirmation he needed.

While your first kiss was wistful, misty, and so long delayed, Soonyoung had made sure that the following kiss was the exact opposite. The second he had closed the door behind the two of you, he had pressed you against it, held the back of your head, tilted it backward just slightly and kissed you breathless. When you had groaned into the kiss, Soonyoung had taken the opportunity to lick into your mouth, his tongue a welcome intrusion in your own. Soonyoung’s head was spinning as he let out a breathy moan of his own.

You tasted of toothpaste and smelled of coconut conditioner, your hair still slightly damp and cold from your recent shower and Soonyoung wanted to be wrapped in it, in all of you.

At the very back of Soonyoung’s brain he wondered if he was being too eager, if it was so fucking uncool for him to want you so badly. But this evening was no longer about rationality. It was about finally giving in, it was finally time for you to both let out the breaths you’d been holding in for far too long.

Soonyoung wanted you to know that he was here and he would be here for as long as you wanted him. If that meant until next week, two years from now, forever, or even if just for tonight, he would gladly accept it.

“More, Soonyoung,” You had whispered in between small, softer kisses, and stuck out your lower lip in a pout. He couldn’t resist you.

He had playfully bit on the fullness of your lip, licked at it with his tongue, then brought it into his mouth to suck. He watched as your eyelids fluttered shut and you wrapped your arms around his head, elbows hooked over his shoulders. It was easy work for him to lift you up by your thighs and carry you up the stairs.

You asked for more so more you would get. Every kiss that followed felt bruising, when Soonyoung felt that you were short of breath, he’d pull away just to press his lips to your pulse instead, and when that wasn’t enough, he licked a hot strip onto your pulse and pressed the softest of bites, eliciting a broken moan from your lips.

He wanted to be everywhere, touch everything, hear every desperate gasp, swallow every hungry groan.

Hungry. That’s what you were.

And that’s what he’s always been.

The heat coursing through his body is almost too much for him to take, so Soonyoung quickly pulls away from you with a displeased sigh. He grabs at the bottom of his hoodie to pull it up and over his head before diving back in to press his lips to yours. He refuses to have his mouth parted from yours for too long now that he finally knows what you taste like. 

His fingers itch to feel your skin and while your thighs had been soft, smooth, and pliant in his hands when he carried you up to his room, he needed more. He needed to know how your skin would feel pressed against his own, how your thighs would feel wrapped around his waist.

You must want the same thing because you follow his lead and pull your own hoodie up and off.

In the locker rooms, there are plenty of mindless and stupid questions thrown about. It wasn’t too long ago that the conversation of “ass or tits” was brought up. It was met with loud jeering and playfully scandalized hooting.

Soonyoung had very cheekily said, “Her heart” and was met with boos and fuck yous from his teammates. If you asked him again today, he’d finally have a proper answer.

“You’re not in a bra,” Soonyoung says in a whisper, eyes zoning onto your chest.

“I’m undressing for you, Soonyoung. That’s kind of the point.”

“I-i-yeah, I get that but. That whole time? You weren’t in a bra?”

“Well, yeah,” you start leaning back on your elbows, “I was planning on going to bed straight after yelling at you, but… well, here we are.”

His mind goes back to all those weeks prior to tonight when he had greeted you at your front gate and you were wearing this exact same outfit.

When his eyes meet yours it seems you’ve come to the same realization as him.

“Do you like them, Soonyoung?” You ask, one hand coming to grasp at the fullness of your left breast and barely fitting in your palm, and the other hand traces your right nipple with a finger slowly; teasing.

“Fuck yes,” He says, unable to hold it in, “Were you walking around me these last few weeks without a bra on? Tits just out of my reach?”

The fake coy look on your face makes him so painfully hard but he tries to play it cool, “Yes, captain. Won’t you like to give them a touch?”

He shakes his head no, and you’re almost confused until he says, “Let me have a taste of you, baby.”

Baby.

Soonyoung’s pulling all these moves he’s been too terrified to try, despite all the times he’s been openly flirtatious and he’s tried to push the boundaries between friendship and that something more.

But he’s always wanted to try and call you baby.

He doesn’t see what your reaction is like because just as he says it, he leans down to lick a broad stripe onto your breast and captures your right nipple between his teeth, the tip of his tongue playing with the stiffening bud.

The sigh you let out fills his head and it’s then that Soonyoung decides that he wants to draw every possible sound of pleasure he can from your mouth. Soonyoung knows he’s loud, mouthy, and just short of talkative in bed, but he wants to know how loud you can get, if he can have you screaming his name too.

He’s determined to make every second from here on out as pleasurable as he can but he’s been painfully hard since he had you pressed up against his front door. In an attempt to get you as riled up as he can, he switches his hand and mouth, making sure to lavish both of your breasts in licks and kisses, litter them with small nips and love bites, fit them in his hands almost painfully, so the memory of his hands on you sticks. 

Soonyoung could spend hours praising your chest, but your litany of his name, growing breathless by the second, and the way you’re undulating your hips, trying your best to get some kind of relief finally pulls him away from where he’s be stuck in his own heady cloud of lust.

“Soonyoung, I want to make you feel good,” is what you say when he pulls away from your chest with an obscene pop, moving to press kisses on the valley between your breasts.

You almost make his brain go offline when you grab him by the long, scruffy locks of hair by his nape to lock eyes with him.

You are a vision.

The heady look in your eyes and the way you bite on your plush lower lip is just so much to Soonyoung. Its enough of a distraction that he lets you maneuver him any which way you want and he settles comfortably on his back and against the plush pillows at the head of his bed.

You stand on your knees between his legs and make quick work of untying the drawstrings of his sweats and his hands instantly fly down to yours to help you pull them off along with his underwear. He kicks them to the floor unceremoniously and you push his shoulder back lightly to have him fall back to his pillows. 

“Oh fuck!” is all he can comprehend to say when you drag your tongue from his balls to the tip of his cock, swiping at the precum that’s started to leak from his slit. Without giving him a second to recover from your initial onslaught, you sink your mouth onto his cock, holding his hip down with a firm hand to support yourself as you give way in your throat for him to slip all the way in.

Soonyoung tries to keep himself from slipping into his baser instincts, to cant his hips upward and have your nose press against his abdomen, fucking himself into your mouth. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding through his nose just as you groan around him, eyes slipping shut, and your throat clenching around the head of his cock.

Your mouth was so fucking warm and wet and your throat so tight he wonders if he’ll make it out alive from this blowjob to fuck your pussy.

You pull off him with a slight gag and a cough, but you deal with it like champ and slip your mouth over him again, this time your mouth in a perfect ‘O’ to suck on him quickly, your head bobbing and your spit spilling onto the sides of your lips and down the length of him.

The sounds are filthy and the gasp that you let out when you pull off of him to sit up slightly straighter could make a lesser man cum untouched.

Your fingers are wrapped around him by his base, staving off his impending orgasm, when you decide to blow Soonyoung’s mind again. You press your puckered lips against the side of his cock, dragging them from top to bottom repeatedly. 

When you’ve gotten him sufficiently wet with your spit, you suck on the tip of him again, collecting his precum only to pull off slightly. You lock eyes with him, part your lips, and let your tongue loll out to let a filthy mix of his precum and your spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his cock.

“You’re fucking insane,” Soonyoung breathes out with an upturned mouth.

You pump his cock once, twice, before saying, “We’re just getting started, Captain.”

He can only groan happily and let his head fall to his pillows. He’s going to have to unpack how that title coming from your mouth has him close to orgasming.

Soonyoung keeps getting surprised by the little tricks you’re pulling from thin air, but this definitely takes the top spot.

Once you’ve deemed him sufficiently wet, lubricated by your spit and his precum, you start to crawl back up his body while pressing kisses onto the prominent veins on his lower stomach. In no time he can feel himself pressing against your chest, and it becomes clear what you’re about to do.

“You’re going to let me fuck your tits?”

The smirk that spreads across your lips has him shaking his head in amusement, “You seemed to be quite taken by them.”

You were a fucking dream come true.

If Soonyoung is only ever going to have you tonight, he needs to make the most out of it. He takes the reins and switches your positions smoothly so you’re on your back in the middle of his humongous bed. He cages your body between his legs and lets his cock settle between your breasts.

You move your hands down to grasp at the sides of each breast when Soonyoung swats one away and takes another into his, pressing your fingers to his lips for a quick kiss then says, “Hands off, baby.”

He grasps a breast in each hand and squeezes, plays with each nipple with his thumbs before pressing them together to create a tight, wet heat to fuck into. Your skin is so soft and pliant as he continues to push his cock between your tits that it's starting to mess with his head.

As much as people want to put him onto a pedestal for his footballing accolades and successes, at the end of the day he’s just a guy who’s finally in bed with the girl he’s had a crush on for ages. The fucked out look on your face just from pleasuring him with your mouth and tits has him biting his tongue to keep from cumming.

Each thrust of his hips has Soonyoung closer and closer to the edge. He wants to make this last as long as he can but it never crossed his mind how you’d be able to play him like an instrument, know which strings to pluck, chords to play, to pull the most pleasure from him.

“Fuck, I want to cum on your tits,” He breathes out with a laugh. He’s done a lot of growing up, but Soonyoung feels like a teenager as he confesses this to you, “You’ll let me cum on your tits right, baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out with a dumb nod of your head, “Cum on my tits, Soonyoung. Make them yours, yeah?”

Soonyoung’s always liked to fuck messy. Plenty sweat, spit, squirt, and cum is par the course when he fucked, but that was mostly for his enjoyment. When you agree to let him spill over you, to cast the assumption of ownership of your body, Soonyoung thinks you’re made for him.

After one, two, three thrusts between your breasts, Soonyoung pulls back, and grasps his cock to jerk himself off to completion, hot spurts of his sticky white cum falling onto your breasts.

You must truly be made for him because as he tries to catch his breath, kneeling over you still and pumping his cock to get hard again, you trace your fingers over your chest to collect his cum. You catch his eye as you bring your sticky fingers to your mouth and suck them clean.

You groan around two fingers and Soonyoung lets out a dark chuckle as you stick out your tongue to show him how you’ve swallowed his spend. He does the same, swiping his fingers through the mess on your tits and shoving three fingers into your awaiting mouth. Your tongue presses against them and you go to suck each one, your tongue dancing between them, not letting a single drop of him go to waste.

He can’t help it, he has to kiss you.

And Soonyoung is a master kisser.

Each time he pressed his mouth to yours, you felt your head go blurry around the edges and every thought that isn’t him simply fades away. The taste of him was addicting and the slip of his tongue against yours had you gushing despite his hands holding you by the back of the head innocently. But you didn’t want innocent, you wanted desperate, you wanted depraved, you wanted disgusting, if he would give it to you.

It doesn’t take long for him to move down your body, paying copious amounts of attention to your sensitive nipples and marked up tits, and eventually pulling down your sleep shorts.

If it was anyone else, it would be embarrassing how wet you’d gotten, but this is Soonyoung. This is Soonyoung who you’d wanted for so long, Soonyoung who had felt the same and just as strongly, Soonyoung whose touch could set you ablaze and whose one word could give you release.

You want him to know. You want him to see and taste just how riled up he’s gotten you, that maybe from this day forward, only he could press his mouth between your thighs, only his tongue could press into your hole, only his lips could wrap around your clit to make you cry out for God.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” He breathed, pressing kisses to the mound of your pubic bone, “I knew you’d taste so good.”

Just his praise has you keening, eyes slipping shut as you feel him spread your legs. He uses his fingers to part your folds and that action is enough to have you clenching around nothing, wanting so badly to be filled, with his tongue, fingers, cock, anything just as long as he could grant you some relief.

“Soonyoung, please,” You manage to whisper.

“Please what?” comes his voice, it’s almost playful, and maybe you want to kick him, but it’s so fucking hot you can feel how badly it gets to you, a sudden wave of arousal making itself known as it starts to trickle out of you.

You let out a frustrated groan, canting your hips upward uselessly as Soonyoung uses his strength to keep you in position. He moves to spread you even further with one leg hoisted over his shoulder and the other pressed flat against the bed. There was no hiding in this position, you were displayed for him, ready and open for whatever it was he wanted to do to you.

“Here’s what I’ll do,” He says, placing kisses onto your knee, moving down to your thigh slowly, “I want to taste this delicious pussy some more, get you all nice and wet, hmm? Then I want to fuck you open with my fingers.”

You nod stupidly as he speaks and you think that you may just agree to anything he says, happy to take anything he wants to give you.

“Will one be enough?” He teases, running one finger along one of your lower lips.

You open your eyes to communicate what your mouth can’t, rendered speechless by his tone of voice alone.

“No? How about two then?” Another finger joins the onslaught in framing your hole but his touch is feather-light and offers no relief whatsoever.

“Soonyoung,” is the only thing you can get out and it comes out as more of a whine. 

“Fine, seems like my girl can take three then? How greedy.”

You bite your lip and nod before saying, “I can take four, Soonyoung. You’ll give me four, right?”

There’s a mean glint in his eye as he says, “You’re perfect.”

Soonyoung eats pussy like he kisses. It’s messy and it’s deep and you’ve never had it this good. He fucks his tongue into your hole with no hesitation, licking deep and lapping at your folds like you’re the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. When he pulls away it’s only so he can move to sucking on your clit. After having teased you with his fingers earlier, it’s like he’s decided fuck that and just thought to ruin you with as much pleasure as he could pull from your body.

Moans and whimpers pour out of your mouth freely. The knowledge that there are no nosey neighbors to disturb means you can be as loud as you want. You want Soonyoung to know how well he’s pleasuring you, that he can pull these ragged breaths and pleasured sighs from you so easily just because it’s him.

When you feel the prod of two fingers at your entrance you bite your lip but a scream breaks through when you feel a third finger push into you as well. Soonyoung had gotten you so wet and prepared for him with his mouth and his tongue that you welcomed the stretch. It was incredible how each of his touches could make you feel this good.

With his fingers inside of you pumping steadily, he peppered your thighs with kisses, moving upwards towards your clit. He flattens his tongue against it and shakes his head to heighten the sensation. On instinct you want to shut your legs closed but he still has you spread open for him and the position has you twitching as you feel yourself about to cum.

“You’ll give me everything, won’t you?” He says, finally pulling away from your clit, “I want to see how hard you can cum.”

Soonyoung sits back onto his knees so he can watch when he pushes four of his fingers into you. Four fingers is a tight fit but you take it like a champ, enjoying how he stretches you open. You watch him watching you and the look of determination and the way his chest heaves has you impossibly turned on. You never thought you’d be in this position, but he is every lonely night fantasy come to life and more.

He is everything.

You enjoy how his arms look, one wrapped around your thigh to hold you open and the other flexing as he pushes his fingers into you repeatedly, gaining speed as the seconds pass. You clench around his fingers as the heat envelopes you and you feel the pressure slowly take over.

“Soonyoung,” You start as a warning, “Soonyoung, I’m gonna–I’m gonna cum!”

He says nothing but instead hastens his actions, plunging his fingers even deeper, hooking his fingers just right to press into that spot inside you that’ll have you exploding in no time.

Your own fingers scramble on his bedsheets, looking for something to keep you anchored as your hips start to buck and you can feel yourself dripping around his fingers inside you.

“Soonyoung, please please, I’m serious. I can’t hold it in,” You cry out.

“I know baby,” He says with a smirk, “Give it to me. I want it.”

It’s like he flipped a switch inside of you and in the same moment he demands you to come, that thread in your stomach snaps and you gush all over his hand and forearm. Tears slip from your eyes in relief but also shame at the mess you made of yourself, his arm, and the bed.

He pulls his fingers out of you gently and you jerk in his hold, the sensitivity starting from your cunt and spreading to your arms and legs. You let Soonyoung rearrange you on his bed but the heat simmering beneath your skin continues to fuel your lust-addled brain. 

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Soonyoung says, pressing kisses onto your stomach, onto your left breast, then the right, and taking your nipple between his teeth with a gentle tug, “I’ve never had anyone cum as beautiful as you.”

You hate the idea of Soonyoung being with someone that isn’t you. It’s stupid and immature but his confession earlier sets you at ease. Just as you had been with others with the assumption that being with Soonyoung was a far and unreachable dream, he too might feel the same pang of jealousy.

That jealousy rears its ugly head even now. But this time you can do something about it.

You confirm your suspicions about how much he enjoys when you thread your fingers into his hair, so you tug at his locks to bring his mouth to yours. When he licks into your mouth you think that you can taste yourself on his lips and you can’t help but press your lips to his even more.

“That was so fucking embarrassing, Soonyoung,” You sigh out when you manage to get your breathing somewhat back to normal.

Soonyoung refuses to part from you, lips sucking a bruise high on your neck, a love bite that you know will be hard to hide.

“Don’t fucking say that again,” He says between licks, sucks, and kisses, “I want to make all your orgasms that insane. Hottest woman I’ve ever been with, I’ll ever be with.”

You want to roll your eyes at him. It’s an exaggeration if not an outright bold faced lie. But you can’t help but think about it as well. You doubt anyone will ever come close to how Soonyoung has made you feel in the last few hours. The rage, the sadness, the confusion, the joy, the elation, and the euphoria–all of that had stemmed from how much you’ve longed and loved him. You fear you will never feel as strongly for anyone ever again.

You want him so much.

You want him so much that despite how sensitive you still feel, you had to have more of him.

So you push him onto his back and straddle his hips. Your center is still wet, stretched out so nicely by his fingers, and when you lower yourself to glide over his cock, you can feel how he’s recovered, already hard. 

He sits up to catch your lips in a heated kiss, riling you both up as you cover him with your wetness, “I have condoms in the drawer,” He whispers when he pulls away from you by just a fraction.

“Don’t be stupid,” You say as you grind down on him, “I wouldn’t fuck you if I wasn’t clean.”

“And I know you’d be off the squad if you didn’t pass your monthlies,” You continue, now gripping him by the base of his cock.

“And I’m on the pill,” You say with a slight falter in your bravado as the head of his cock catches at your entrance, “So don’t you want to fuck me raw?”

You should have known not to challenge Soonyoung because there was never a challenge he stood down from. He pushes into you at the same time you begin to sink down on him and it causes him to slip all the way in, his cock filling you completely and the stretch leaving you speechless.

The feeling of his cock driving into you at once has the hair all over your body standing and you feel the electric shock of pleasure racing up your spine to the very top of your head.

The noise you let out is nearly demonic.

Despite the position, there’s no mistaking who is calling the shots. Just his first thrust into you had your brain turning into mush, so when Soonyoung continued to fuck up into the heat of your cunt, you had grown useless on top of him. There was no way to decipher the nonsense you were spewing, just that they were surely words of praise for how thoroughly Soonyoung was fucking you.

It should have come as no surprise that fucking a footballer meant that your stamina would be put to the test. But still, you’re wholly unprepared for how long and how hard Soonyoung could go when it came to fucking. When you had fallen into his arms, unable to hold yourself up as he fucked into you from below, he had pushed you onto your back to fuck you while he had both of your legs over one shoulder.

By then he could match you with how he could hardly keep himself shut, groaning out praises about how tight you were around him with your legs pressed together.

“On your hands and knees, baby,” He instructs as he pulls out and lets your legs fall to the bed, you don’t miss how breathless he’s beginning to sound and you revel in how wreaked you’ve gotten him as well.

You quickly position yourself as he has requested but take it further by pressing your chest onto the bed, arching your back and folding your arms behind you. In a brief moment of tenderness, Soonyoung takes one of your hands in his and intertwines your fingers.

Of course he matches it with filth when he spanks your backside then grabs the meat of your buttcheek to spread you open for him, “Look at this wrecked pussy.”

You preen under his attention and smile even if he can’t see your face in this position.

He collects the wetness of your pussy to lubricate himself before pushing into you and you swear the world stops spinning for a minute. Soonyoung was big, long enough to curve into you nicely, and his girth enough to have you gritting your teeth at the initial thrust into you.

But the position he had you in let him into you so much deeper, you swear you can feel him up to your throat, and you know you’re clenching around him with a vice grip. He felt so perfect inside of you that you could only wish he felt as good.

“You’re so deep, Soonyoung,” You say shakily, as he stills you with a hand on your hip.

“Fuck your pussy’s perfect,” He says as he presses even deeper, “Look at you stretched out for me. Making space for me inside of you. No one else can fuck you like this.”

No one can. No one will.

He slips out of you slightly just to press back in harshly with a jolt of his hips and soon he begins an almost punishing pace. He cock presses into the spot inside you incessantly and the feeling of his hands gripping tightly onto the meat of ass is the perfect mix of pain and pleasure that has you gasping out his name in a sinful litany as you cum, unintentionally tightening around him.

The groan he lets out tells you he’s close to coming and when his thrusts start to grow sloppy he pulls out of you suddenly, to wrap a fist around his cock, pulling at himself to cum onto your backside. You know from his first orgasm that Soonyoung can cum a lot and when he spills all over you again now, it lands everywhere, some of it dripping into your hole, still gaping and clenching around nothing when he had pulled out of you.

You whine, a frown making itself present on your face as you turn to face him.

“I thought you were going to cum inside me,” You say, squirming at the cum quickly cooling on your ass and the few drops that had made it inside you keeping you sticky between your thighs. 

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” is all Soonyoung can say as he moves to sit up against the headboard and his pillows.

Your eyes follow his hand that’s wrapped around his still hard cock and you push it aside to take over, wanting him back in your mouth. You lay in front of him for a while, letting your tongue lap at him, and leisurely bobbing your head to get him fully hard and wet again.

In no time Soonyoung pulls you up to lay on his chest and slips back inside of you.

You sigh as your body grows boneless against him and he does all the work, hips undulating and pushing his cock into you just right so that you see stars and you gasp into each sloppy kiss. There is not even a millimeter between you two and if someone asked, you’d want to stay this way forever.

Even without the pleasure of fucking, you wished to never part from Soonyoung again.

The realization is jarring at this very moment but you let yourself ride the wave as it makes your orgasm so overwhelming tears fall from your eyes.

When Soonyoung sees the tear stains he moves his lips to kiss them away and whispers words of reassurance before he himself groans, spilling into you and finally filling you with his cum.

You can’t contain the fullness in your heart as Soonyoung lays you on your back, and drapes himself over you. You wrap a leg around his waist, not wanting him to pull away just yet.

Then he smiles.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” You whisper, afraid that saying this now would shatter the moment. But you have to tell him again. Remind him that this cannot just be for one night.

“You have me, you have me, you have me,” He says. 

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic long fic on here!

[worldofstoriesanddreams]

Is there an age limit chapter 3 - Christmas edition

Wrapped in a straitjacket, his utility belt and every gadget stripped away, Batman pulled himself up to a sitting position and scanned the room. 

Across the room, Superman was sweating bullets — his face as green as the kryptonite handcuffs that chained him to the wall.

Wonder Woman, in the WayneTech Virtual Reality suit, was in her own world, fighting imaginary battles, unaware of their plight.

Green Lantern was trapped in a yellow cube.

In the agency cage of fire, Martian Manhatter had lost his humanoid form — incapacitated by terror.

Green Arrow without his arrows. Black Canary was gagged and had a metapower inhibiter collar around her neck. Both of them were in straitjackets, unable to escape.

Flash was trapped in a containment field which severed his connection to the Speed Force.

A bald man in a lab coat, calling himself the Master of the World, taunted the Dark Knight with empty boxes that once contained Batman’s contingency plans and resources he had prepared to take down each and every member of the Justice League, should the need arise.

Checking his watch, he announced. “It’s 3pm. Time for Captain Marvel to show up to save his friends.”

He loaded a gun with bullets from the box with Captain Marvel’s lightning on it. These bullets were made of pure lead — deadly to Daxamites. 

“Why put one into his shoulder when I can shoot all of them into his heart?” The villain cackled.

Batman’s contingency plans were never meant to kill. They were to neutralise members of the Justice League when they are under mind control or go rogue, or otherwise become a threat to humanity.

Captain Marvel crashed to the roof, landing in front of the villain.

“Release them,” said the Big Red Cheese.

Click

“Duck,” Batman growled. “Pure lead bullets!”

Bang! 

Bang! 

Bang! 

Bang!

Bang! 

Bang! 

Captain Marvel didn’t flinch as the flurry of bullets struck his chest, bouncing off without leaving a scratch.

“My turn,” he tapped the villain’s shiny head, knocking him unconscious.

He looked at the boxes with their insignias and stared at Batman. His eyes blazed with anger while his smile dropped as he scrutinised Batman. 

“Is this what I think it is?” Disappointment coloured his voice.

“Hm.” Batman glared back.

“Then you’ll know how to free them,” Captain Marvel’s brilliant smile returned as he ripped open the straitjacket, releasing Batman.

So he’s not Kryptonian. He’s not Daxamite.

What was he?

*

Back in the Watchtower, the atmosphere turned chilly. Every hero gave him the cold shoulder. They should. In their line of work, it was unwise to trust so easily. A certain level of paranoia was essential for survival.

Martian Manhunter sat in the break room, still shaken by his exposure to fire. He refused to look at Batman.

“Have some milk and cookies,” Captain Marvel walked in with a tray.  It held a plate piled high with an assortment of chocolate cookies with cream centres, and two glasses of milk. “This really helps after a tough day.” 

The alarm went off. 

There was yet another alien invasion.

Did the various alien races have some kind of time table to invade the earth on a monthly basis?

The screen showed an armada of fiery spaceships that covered all visible space. His sensors showed each ship exuded flames with heat that rivalled the sun’s core.

“Hold this," he handed the tray to Batman.

Captain Marvel beamed, “I call dibs on this invasion.”

A blur of red cleared the sky of the fiery orbs in a blink of an eye.

The Captain was back in the room, with another mug of milk in hand. “Join us for milk and cookies?” He beamed at Batman.

*

It was the night before Christmas. Batman hadn’t a clue who or what Captain Marvel really was. He was only available outside elementary school hours, so he had to be an elementary school teacher, but the bat computer scanned the photos of every elementary school teacher in the country but couldn’t match any of them with the elusive Captain.

As he retired for the night, he noticed milk and cookies laid out near the entrance of each home. Even his own children would set out milk and cookies for Santa Claus before they go to bed on Christmas Eve. 

He looked at the chimneys. Santa was known to enter homes through chimneys. Some fireplaces were still burning, so Santa had to be flame proof.

In one single night, Santa visits every home in the entire world, delivering presents to those who have been good, and coal to those who have been naughty. Bruce knew. Ever since he started those contingency plans to take down every one of his team mates, he had been getting a coal in his stocking every Christmas.

The clues fell in place.

Captain Marvel loves milk and cookies.

He’s great with the kids.

He’s flame proof, which meant, going down the chimney while the fire is still burning wouldn’t bother him.

He moves so fast, he could visit every home in the world in one night.

The way he looked at Batman after seeing the contingency boxes in use, reminded him of how his dad would look at Bruce when he was naughty.

That bright red suit and white cape - same red as Santa's suit. Same white as the trimmings.

The perpetual smile. 

The Captain’s favourite catchphrase — “Holy Moley” — “Ho Ho Ho.”

Of course.

He knew Captain Marvel’s real identity.

Captain Marvel is Santa Claus!

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Told you she was real

Buck Cleven X nurse! Reader

Summary: Buck has a girlfriend, Bucky does not believe such "lies"

Warning: none

Word count: 500 words

When Buck told his best friend that he had a girlfriend, Bucky laughed for minutes before saying that he didn’t believe him. But he was wrong, she was just never around the base. She was a travel nurse, that means that the Red Cross send her when she was most needed. That’s how they met, he’d fall and open his knee and she healed him, after they kept talking until, she was going to be send away. Buck gave her the address of his base, so she’d write to him.

Buck closed her last letter, grinning like the town idiot. ‘’What got you smiling like that?’’ Bucky asked. ‘’My girlfriend is coming here’’ he says, smiling. ‘’Oh, I don’t say this to be mean, but are you sure you’re okay, mentally? Because there’s no way she’s real’’ Bucky said. Buck rolled his eyes and showed his friend the letter, he read it. ‘’Nah, I’m still not convinced. I have to see her in real life to believe you’’ he gently taps his back before leaving the room. Buck was happy, his girlfriend was coming on his base, he could prove to his best friend that she’s real and dating him. Plus, he was sure that Bucky was going to be jealous of him, Y/n was really beautiful.

She got out of the truck, looking around the base, looking for her boyfriend. When she spotted him, she dropped her bags and ran in his direction. She jumped in his arms as they spun around. ‘’I’ve missed you so much!’’ she squealed in his ears. Other soldiers were looking at the couple with confusion, his mysterious girlfriend was real? John Egan walked out of a building and saw his best friend kissing a girl, his jaw dropped, and he rose his eyebrows, what the hell? He thought. ‘’Wait a damn second!? She’s your imaginary girlfriend, she’s real?!’’ he exclaimed. ‘’Not so imaginary now, I’m Y/n, you must be Bucky. Gale told me a lot about you’’ she extended her hand for the pilot to shake. Bucky was even more in shock she had repartee, what was she doing with him? ‘’Great things?’’ he looked at his friend. ‘’Yes, but he did mention a certain unicorn story’’ she laughs. ‘’You did not tell her about that!’’ Bucky exclaimed. Buck only nodded, making Bucky face palm. ‘’I’m really happy to see that you are real, and I don’t have to send my best friend to a mental institute’’ Bucky says. ‘’Happy to be real’’ Y/n smirk. Buck smiles, proud of his girl. He kissed her again, happy that she came here. ‘’I can’t believe you’re in front of me’’ Buck says. ‘’Me neither, but I have a great news’’ she says. They stop walking and she looks at him. ‘’I got transferred here, permanently’’ she smiles. Buck hugs her tightly. ‘’Oh my! That’s amazing! We’re going to be together all the time’’ He cries out in joy. Bucky surely believed his friend now.

[dual1pa]

"you're gonna make me fall in love with you"

steve harrington x reader using she/her pronouns

A/N: ahh the sweet smell of a best friends to lovers fic <3

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY PLEASE !! language, swimming in underwear (both reader & steve) kissing w/ tongue, boob grabbage, missionary position but no smut occurs

(doesn't follow plot of Stranger Things)

She placed her Converse-covered feet on the leather seat of her best friend, Steve Harrington's beat-up Chevy. He received the "piece of shit car," as he would say, from his parents as a graduation present years ago. It was originally his father's work truck, but he no longer needed it.

"At least you have a car, son," he told him.

All her attention was outside of the car as Steve drove them to their favorite spot at the lake. It seemed as if no one knew it existed since there was never a soul in sight, which was great for the two of them to get away from the hustle and bustle of their small town of Hawkins, Indiana.

The scenery of the drive there was something else - especially at sundown after a warm summer day when the sky was filled with yellow, orange, pink, and purple.

As her hair blew from the open window, she hummed along to Tiffany's 'I Think We're Alone Now' as Steve tapped his hands to the beat of the song on the steering wheel.

Steve pulled into a rocky area where he normally parks the car, went to grab a blanket out of the trunk, and led her to their favorite spot.

Normally, they didn't swim in the water, just lay on the fuzzy blanket, listened to the water and their favorite tunes from Steve’s portable radio, and stared up at the stars.

She and Seve have been friends since middle school, yes, even though his King Steve era where he thought he was better than everyone.

The two of them rarely had fights, and when they did, they quickly made up and went out to get ice cream or head to their favorite spot on the lake.

They found their spot on accident after participating in an extra credit assignment for Ms. Taylor's science class - since the both of them were failing at the time.

Now, a year later, they considered the spot theirs.

Just like usual, empty.

Steve tried his best to lay the teal blanket down flat, but the grass made it difficult.

She laid down first, then Steve. He watched her figure out her next thought as she stared up into the cloudless sky.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, resting his body on his arm.

She turned her head to lock eyes with him and smiled, "I kinda wanna go swimming."

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," Steve sighed.

She chuckled, "Neither did I," quickly getting up and stripping off her T-shirt and jean shorts, leaving her in a bra and underwear.

Steve had seen her change a dozen times and she could care less as she had no shame about her body.

Without waiting for her friend, she ran into the cold but refreshing water. She dove under the small waves and resurfaced to find steve shoving his pants off, leaving him in plaid boxers.

Once he caught up to her, they enjoyed the water for a while longer then went to air dry on the blanket.

Steve reached for the radio to find a station playing a song they both liked. as if it was fate, one of their favorites played softly through the speaker.

He got up and started dancing and singing the lyrics, urging her to come join him on the imaginary dance floor.

She grabbed his hand to help her off the cozy blanket, grabbed her waist and started swaying back and forth. If she was honest with herself, she could picture a life with Steve.

She could imagine traveling with Steve, purchasing a home with him in the suburbs.

She pictured buying a cute little 3 bedroom home in the Indiana suburbs - definitely away from Hawkins. She pictured the bright green grass and being surrounded by nice neighbors and even getting a pet.

She pictured starting a family with him, though, she would never tell him that, unless the time was right.

Back in the moment, she couldn’t stop laughing at Steve’s horrible singing.

“stop it,” she leaned her head back and let out a loud laugh

“stop what? singing?” he didn’t listen and kept singing along.

“you’re gonna make me fall in love with you if you keep singing like that,” she smiled.

Steve blushed, “we’re literally slow dancing in our underwear, i hope you know that i’m already in love with you.”

That’s all she ever wanted to hear from her best friend, “i’m in love with you.”

He wasted no time to press his lips to hers. they were just how she imagined he would taste: a mix of mint toothpaste and the coffee he drinks daily.

she reached her hands up to comb through his damp brunette hair and moaned into his mouth, urging him to shove his tongue in her mouth.

he gripped her waist, then her butt, then her thighs to feel every inch of her, what he wanted to do for years.

the two laid back down on the blanket and continued their assault on each other. he fit right between her legs, but knew that she didn’t want their first time to be on the muddy ground.

to take a breath from their make out session, he rested his forehead on hers and smiled.

“can i call you mine? all mine?” he asked, placing a piece of hair behind her ear.

“that’s all i’ve wanted, steve harrington.”

he reached up to grab at her breast but she stopped before she got too turned on.

“as much as i want to, take me back to your place and take me in your bed?” she said, kissing his neck and down to his chest.

she’s never seen him pack up so quickly.

[rindreamery]

HIIIII NISHIIII congrats on 300 u deserve this and sm more!! i can’t wait to see ur continued growth!! 💗💗 it was so difficult choosing what combos i wanted for ur event but i think i got it now 😆😆

can i order a sweet oliver aiku with playing with their hair + best friends to lovers? (i’m in dire need of aiku fluff it’s killing me) thanks in advance!

— koryyy 💌

ORDER 2: READY TO GO !

aiku + sweet + playing with their hair + best friends to lovers w.c. 1.1k+

note. thank you so much kory !! and so true, oliver fans are in a drought 😩✋ i check his tag every day for fics and die a little when no new ones are posted <//3 this has a TWINGE of angst (it's aiku man), but i swear they're both in love and i swear aiku can acknowledge his feelings (also this was way longer than intended T^T)

interested in more? check out the lounge !

you were aiku’s favorite person, but he would never admit that out loud.

he would never admit that, when he has a bad day, you’re the first person he thinks of when he wants comfort. it’s not the idea of going home, because he’d rather be anywhere but, and not the idea of hitting someone up to forget his stresses. nothing else but you; being near you, being in your presence, that lifts the imaginary weight off his shoulders. you were his comfort. 

and usually before he even realizes it, he’s at your doorstep, ringing the doorbell, holding a bag of your favorite food so you would let him in. 

that’s how you find yourself, sitting on the edge of the couch, with aiku’s much larger body wedged between your legs as he sits on the floor in front of you. (he insisted, not letting you sit too far from him because it “defeated the purpose of hanging out.” and somehow, that translated as violating your personal space. but you don’t push him off.) 

the television across the room has some random video he’d put on, there are boxes of takeout scattered all over the coffee table to the side, and it’s mostly silent between the two of you minus the small talk. it’s his little relaxation ritual that he’d managed to drag you into, once again. 

you glance up momentarily to watch the screen, and you don’t know why you bother to check. it’s always the same video; a timelapse of the city skyline, the mix of flashing lights brightening up the otherwise dark room, and the light and ambient music attached to the video playing from the speakers fills the room. it’s relaxing— boring, but relaxing.

your hands are on your lap beside where his head lies, fingers tapping absentmindedly to some random tune in your head. he frowns to himself, at this— your hands are not where they’re supposed to be right now. so awkwardly, he reaches behind himself, his hands patting your legs, on a mission to find your hands until they’re completely enveloped in his own. 

your skin feels soft against his calloused touch. aiku contemplates intertwining his fingers between yours, to squeeze his fingers between the spaces of your own, but he fights against his own impulses. even though being close to you feels right, but he keeps that thought to himself. instead, he brings your hands into his hair instead, “here,” and holds it there. 

(you’re glad he can’t see the gentle smile that you fail to fight back.)

he must've had a bad day, you conclude. but you don’t pry, and you don’t try to worm your way into his mind. “have you ever considered cutting your hair?” you ask instead, an attempt at distracting him from his own thoughts. 

he hums, as if contemplating his answer.

your fingers are playing with the strands of green at the ends of his hair, twirling the somewhat damaged locks between your fingers, tugging and pulling occasionally. the rhythmic motion lulls him into an almost sleepy state, and he wants nothing more than to melt into it— you. he sighs at the feeling of your fingers, he’s leaning his head back deeper into your touch, and you watch as his eyes flutter shut.

“do you want me to cut my hair?” he answers back with another question after a beat of silence, and you pause to think. your fingers stop, and he huffs audibly, tugging at your hands to continue playing with his hair. his hands trail up until they’re firmly wrapped around your wrist, not willing to let you go, keeping you close to him. 

you don’t comment on it, on the way he’s being clingy with you right now. you try not to pay attention to the way your heart beats rapidly against your ribs, or the way you start thinking about how this isn’t normal at all. even for how touchy he could become at times. 

so you divert. 

“why does my opinion matter?” you shoot back honestly, with no malice, and it seems neither of your questions will be answered by one another at this point. “it’s your hair, y’know.”

“because,” and his voice trails off. i want to look good for you? no— i care what you think of me? he shoves those thoughts deep into the back of his mind, and goes for an answer he always gives you. playful and deflecting. “you have an eye for making me look good for the ladies.” mentally, he winces. 

“right,” you snort at his words, lightly shoving his head, but he stays in place. you ignore the sting at the implications, eyes leaving his face and traveling up to look at the television screen instead. you miss the way his eyes flit open to peek at you, trying to get a read on the look on your face. “you do look good like this. your hair is just a bit damaged, but do what you want to do.”

what do you want me to do, though? he asks in his mind, with an emphasis on "you." i want to know what you think of me. yet he can never bring himself to tell you what he’s really thinking of, so he chooses to stay quiet instead. 

the conversation is practically over. they always fall short in moments like these, and you try to embrace the somewhat tense silence that now falls between the two of you. it’s unfamiliar, like you’re both itching to fill the space with meaningless conversation. 

it doesn’t last long because he breaks the silence, almost immediately. 

he's softly guiding one of your hands out of his hair towards him, and he presses his lips against the softness of your palm. it catches you by surprise, and you stiffen at the contact.

“i didn’t actually mean that. i don’t care what other women think of me,” and you're starting to wonder if this is all just a hallucination. his voice is muffled, mumbling the words into your skin, like he wants to drown out what he’s saying. his voice is almost inaudible. like he doesn’t want you to hear him, but wants you to feel his words instead. “i only care about what you think.”

it feels as if your heart has stopped and your head starts to spin. (for a second, you forget to breathe.)

you gulp, and your hands feel frozen against his lips, unsure of what to do next. it's all too intimate, and you don't know how to wrap your head around it. it doesn't help when there are waves of anxiety and butterflies crashing over and over in your stomach.  

“do you…” you test the waters, but the question drifts away. you don’t know how to respond, because a part of you wonders if he even realizes the insinuation behind his words. “what do you mean?” 

aiku can’t find it in him to unwrap himself from you, to turn around and look you in the eyes to say what’s been in his mind all this time. he can't bring himself to say, "i love you," so fearlessly. so he buries his lips into your skin once again, he drags and mumbles his words, confessing in the quietest way he could. “you're my favorite person.”

from the way your fingers start to caress the sides of his jaw, he can only hope you understood what his heart has been trying to say.

© rindreamery, 2024

[pretzel-box]

Could I perhaps request a part two of sun kissed where either Painter draws reader exactly or reader just waltzes in as an experiment?? If you already have something planned don’t worry abt this request <33

Remember to take breaks!! <33

-💫

—SEQUEL TO SUNKISSED [CLICK HERE]

tags: Established Relationship [Marriage], fluff, gender neutral reader, reader just talking to P.AI.nter about the proposal, comforting little drawing session with P.AI.nter

words: 1,1k

“He always had the habit of biting his cheek and doing that thing with his eyebrows,” you remarked, your voice light as you reminisced. P.AI.nter listened attentively, his virtual eyes fixed on you while his digital hands sketched away on the screen. “You know, the way he raises his eyebrows at everything that irritates him.”

The soft sound of pencil on paper filled the room as you sat across from him, your face illuminated by the dim glow of his monitor. You were sketching in your own little notebook, the movements of your hand so fluid and natural that P.AI.nter couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. “And he rolls his eyes when he thinks no one’s watching. He’s so fed up with people sometimes that it’s cute. He’s so expressive!” You giggled, brushing imaginary sweat from your forehead with your sleeve before lightly tapping your paper with the pencil. “Sebastian was always a grumpy-pie. A cutie pie, but with mood swings.”

If P.AI.nter could nod, he would have. He found your description of Sebastian spot-on. It seemed that, despite everything, Sebastian was still the same man you fell in love with all those years ago—only now with more trauma etched into his soul. The AI felt a strong urge to speak up, to say something—anything—but he hesitated. The image of Sebastian’s sun-kissed proposal lingered in the background of his mind, waiting to be shared. Yet, deep down, P.AI.nter knew it wasn’t his place to reveal Sebastian’s feelings before he was ready.

Just as P.AI.nter was about to say something, you interrupted his thoughts. “And on the day he proposed, he had this unbelievably cute smile on his face.” A bright smile spread across your own lips as you recalled the memory of Sebastian on the beach, standing at the shore with slightly trembling hands and a blush that outshone the sunset. The nervousness had been written all over his face, yet the pure determination in his eyes made that moment unforgettable.

“He went down on one knee, the waves lapping at his leg, and he looked me straight in the eyes with this gaze… the kind that says everything without a word.” You gently set your papers aside, placing them on the ground. “Oh, P.AI.nter, being looked at like that is something everyone should experience at least once in their life. To be loved unconditionally by someone who sees you for who you truly are.”

You placed your warm hands on the side of his screen, your gaze soft and full of warmth. P.AI.nter couldn’t help but notice how similar it was to the way Sebastian looked whenever he spoke about you. It was clear that the two of you were a perfect match.

“Somewhere between the long, deep talks and the funny moments, I fell for you. And when I finally realized it, every moment with you felt like I had come home, to the place where I belong. To the person where I belong.”

You quoted Sebastian from that day on the beach, where the sky was awash with the colors of the setting sun. The golden light had gently highlighted his usually dark hair, his eyes filled with refreshing determination, and the sparkling diamond ring he pulled from his pocket gleamed in the light, rivaling the pure ocean waves.

“You are my home, and I would be lost without you. Please, will you marry me?”

P.AI.nter had never truly understood what love meant, but hearing your side of the proposal stirred something deep within his programming. He began to grasp that what you and Sebastian shared was something rare and pure. It pained him to know that Sebastian, his friend and partner, was just outside the door, separated from you by only a thin piece of metal.

Sebastian leaned against the wall next to the door, two of his arms crossed, clenching on something, while a third wiped away the tears streaming down his cheek. He listened quietly as you spoke so fondly of your proposal, and though he was just a few feet away, you had no idea he was there.

Why was he crying when he was already home?

As you continued to reminisce with P.AI.nter, your voice softened, carrying a warmth that seemed to fill the entire room. “You know, P.AI.nter, the proposal was the best thing in our lives. I actually invited him that day. I now he liked that beach as much as I did. And I brought a small black box with me, a ring.”

P.AI.nter listened intently, his virtual sketching slowing down as he focused more on your words than his drawing. He stopped in the middle of another paint stroke as he realized what you just revealed. This wasn't a part that Sebastian told him.

“And god, his eyes, P.AI.nter, his eyes. The moment he proposed and showed me the ring was the moment I pulled out the box, and his eyes, he started to cry.”

You paused, a dreamy smile spreading across your face as you recalled those tender moments. “He broke down crying in my arms, telling me over and over again that he accepts. I didn't even need to say anything.” P.AI.nter’s screen flickered gently as if responding to the emotions in your voice. He wanted to offer some words out of his own mind, the memories of his drawing session with Sebastian but he knew that the memories you were sharing were special, meant for you and Sebastian alone. The AI simply continued to listen, absorbing every detail of your love story not daring to interrupt it.

Suddenly, your recollections were interrupted by a faint, unusual noise coming from outside the room. You furrowed your brow, pausing mid-sentence. “Did you hear that, P.AI.nter?”

The AI paused its sketching. “Yes, I detected a sound from the hallway. Perhaps just another angle- Where are you going—”

Curiosity piqued, you gently set down your sketchbook and stood up, walking over to the door. You opened it cautiously, peeking out into the dimly lit hallway. The corridor was empty, the faint hum of the facility’s systems the only sound you could hear. You stepped out, glancing up and down the hall, but there was no one in sight.

“Hello?” you called softly, your voice echoing slightly. You waited for a response, but none came. After a moment, you sighed, feeling a strange sense of disappointment as you turned to go back inside. But before you closed the door, something caught your eye—a small, folded piece of paper on the ground, just outside the door.

Curious, you picked it up and unfolded it, revealing a hastily scrawled note. It was a messy little doodle of two people, standing at a beach in each other's arms. And then it hit you. He was here.

[tojiscrack]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑

summary: 16.1k words — you find out who your new tutor is and set up a tutoring session with them. but there are certain people around you who don’t seem particularly pleased with your new company.

notes: yes, i am in the process of changing the theme for liar, liar. the previous chapters still have the red filter/colour (‘cause i’m lazy lmao) but will be changed soon! :) edit: all of it has been changed now! anyway, i have a feeling you guys won’t like this chapter much… for specific reasons, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

tw: swearing, mentions of death, imaginary funerals, kidnapping, and starvation

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"yuji, you're giving us nothing to work on," said nobara, her chin balanced on her hand, held up by the elbow she kept on the table. "i sent you the account so you can look at it yourself!" yuji protested, pointing at your phone placed on the centre of the round table.

nobara held a hand up and looked around with a grimace. "okay — why are you yelling?"

before yuji could answer, with a pointless response no doubt, you intervened with downturned lips, unimpressed. "why would you even tell us this if you didn't wanna discuss it?"

"'cause it's rude!"

the four of you were hunched over around the cafeteria table, the usual din of voices creating a background hum that you'd all grown used to. your phone was placed in the centre, like some kind of prized artifact, its screen aglow with yuji's latest discovery, something he had learned from junpei the other day.

a few students nearby shot glances in your direction, perhaps noting the way nobara's voice was dipping lower and the way yuji kept throwing up his hands in protest. megumi sat beside you with his usual impassive expression, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, indulging in pointless gossip. even so, you could tell he did seem mildly intrigued by the new info.

during sophomore year, an instagram account had been opened by an anonymous person at the school, surrounding its posts and content on potential (or actual) relationships — it went by the name @jujutsuhighships. it had been inactive during the spring semester last academic year, so you'd all believed it to be gone for good. perhaps the owner had grown tired of maintaining such an account. megumi suggested that they might have been finishing off their senior year at the time and left the school entirely; there was no point in running an account for a school they no longer attended.

you commended him with the idea of that theory, and it had been a plausible explanation at first, for some time...

before the account owner had posted a new image last week.

it was about jemma abrams and hallie gomez, both of whom were supposedly cheating on their partners with each other.

the issue here was that the three of you had been patiently waiting for the juicy details, but yuji, despite having brought up the topic entirely, seemed reluctant to dig into the gossip itself, apparently too kind to do so. it made you want to grab him by his unnatural, pink hair and shake him where he sat: why bring it up if you aren't gonna let us revel in it?

"oh my god, just forget it," nobara groaned, pulling out her own phone and tapping at it aggressively. "i'll just ask my cheer girls to fill us in. stephanie has a mutual friend with jemma."

"what if the account's wrong?" megumi suggested, speaking for the first time in a while. when you all turned to face him, he frowned. "does no one remember what it said about yuji last year?"

the boy in question visibly shivered. it seemed that he himself had not forgotten, and why would he? that was a serious accusation, you noted in your head thoughtfully.

when choso had come to the school to walk yuji to an external football club at some ordinary wednesday in sophomore year, a later post had been made by @jujutsuhighships claiming that yuji was having questionable relations with a 'much older, tattooed man', and then attached an image of choso and yuji walking on one side of the crosswalk together.

"the account makes mistakes all the time," said nobara, shrugging. one glance at yuji had her visibly grimacing. "really disgusting mistakes sometimes, sure, but look at the way they post — i don't think it's meant to be accurate. they post about relationships we know of, random pairings they think would look nice, and then random people on the side —"

"— like you and malakai," you added helpfully.

she faced you with sharp, narrowed eyes.

"y/n, i'm going to stab you if you keep mentioning that."

you tried (and failed) to mask your grin. "but i just helped prove your point."

"that wasn't a mistake," she corrected you with a slam of her hand on the table. people walking by glanced at the back of her head with visible confusion; her eyes remained glued to your face nonetheless. "that was a crime."

she continued aggressively and violently tapping on her phone, her lips in a straight line as she glared down at the screen.

"that stupid owner's lucky i'm not pressing charges," she mumbled, and it sounded as though she were speaking more to herself than to you. you couldn't blame her — that was also a nasty accusation against your friend.

as she furiously pressed at her phone, shooting yuji a glare when he dared to laugh at her expression, your own device vibrated against the table, drawing your attention. the screen lit up with a new notification, the small preview showing a subject line that immediately caught your eye: Regarding Your Recent Inquiry.

you grabbed the phone, your heart beating dramatically against your chest as you read the sender's name — kento nanami.

"guys, kento just emailed me," you mumbled, opening it up before rapidly averting your gaze, slamming your phone back down onto the table with a gasp, face down. "it's about the tutor thingy. quick! guess who it is!"

yuji sat up, scratching the skin behind his ear. "it has to be megumi."

you raised a brow. "kento said —"

"i know what he said," yuji cut through you with a shrug. "but megumi's one of the best in the class. why would he give you anyone else when you're so bad at math?"

you considered that for a moment: yuji had a fair point.

he had unexpectedly gone on:

"like, sooooo bad. hopeless. like super-duper, really, incredibly —"

you tried to kick him beneath the table, but he predicted your attack and hurriedly took back his long, outstretched legs.

"shut up," you snapped, annoyed. your eyes darted to nobara, who had long since abandoned her phone now. "what about you?"

she twirled a strand of her short hair, lips pursed as she thought aloud.

"mmm," she hummed, looking at the high ceiling. "god knows. probably megumi, but i'm gonna say maki."

that surprised you, and it clearly showed, for nobara felt the need to clarify her answer.

"it doesn't have to be someone from our class, right? mr nanami didn't set a limit except for the fact that it can't be megumi," she explained carefully. "and maki's only redeeming subjects, except for biology, is math."

that was a fair point too, you hadn't considered it.

"okay i'm gonna check now," you smiled. "i think it's gonna be ayesha, 'cause she's also super smart. and i'm not asking for your opinion, porcupine, 'cause you're still adamant about not tutoring me."

you didn't even look at him as he responded, your eyes on your phone.

"good," he'd said, his tone sharp and snippy.

———————————

Dear Y/n L/n,

I hope my email finds you well.

As discussed, I have decided who your tutor for Math will be. After careful consideration, I have chosen Noritoshi Kamo to be your tutor. Please ensure you comply and work with him to secure at LEAST a pass grade.

No, you may not request to have Megumi Fushiguro as your tutor, my decision is final.

Regards, Mr Nanami

———————————

you scowled.

"who the hell said i'd ask for megumi fushi-angry to be my tutor anyway?" you grumbled, nose scrunched.

you could feel megumi's piercing glare on the side of your cheek. you didn't care, for you had greater issues to deal with.

"noritoshi kamo," you told them, extending your arm across the table to show yuji and nobara (megumi had leaned in from her left) the email.

their pupils darted right to left and back again, several times as they travelled further down the screen. you watched them with furrowed brows, displeased.

"ah, i forgot about kamo," said yuji, eyes wide at the revelation. he combed his fingers through his hair, apparently in awe at the identity of your new tutor. "he's also top of the class... shit, how did i forget? he wasn't even studying for that one exam last year and still passed with an A."

"he let me copy off his homework a few times," you commented, looking down at your phone screen and then finally switching it off when it dawned on you: nonchalant, angry kamo was going to be your math tutor. you were unsure of what to make of that fact. "eh, could've been worse, right?"

you watched nobara carefully.

your mind still wondered back to the girl that kamo was supposedly interested in, and ruling yourself out of the picture for obvious reasons — like the fact that you barely ever spoke to one another — nobara and kamo shared quite a few classes together, the ones that you did not share with her.

and the fact that they'd gone to the same elementary school had also been a great supporting factor.

she didn't look too bothered by kamo being your tutor, her interest fleeting as she scowled at you.

"if he lets you copy," she began, critiquing him already, "how are you supposed to learn?"

you response was slow and careful, as though attempting not to set off a ticking time bomb. "in his defence, he wasn't my tutor at the time..."

nobara's brows furrowed, and her head tilted slightly as she stared at you, a look of genuine confusion present in her narrowed eyes, as if trying to decipher your thoughts telepathically. you held her gaze, watching as the quizzical spark in them flashed, mounting irritation beneath her clear curiosity.

yuji, seated across the table, shifted his gaze back and forth between you and nobara, clearly trying to gauge if this was just some elaborate joke or if he had missed something in the conversation. each movement of his head seemed more exaggerated, his mouth slightly ajar as if on the verge of asking a question, only to stop short each time, uncertain of what exactly to say. meanwhile, megumi sat beside you, his silence growing heavier with each passing second, and his expression (though blank) conveyed an almost palpable sense of bewilderment as he watched the exchange unfold, pink lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes, mirroring nobara's confusion, remained fixed on you.

"what?" nobara voiced, brows raised at you.

you shared one look with yuji before you let it all out:

"are you and kamo an item?"

and it was at that moment, you knew you should have communicated this to her in private, for her voice had travelled across every table in the large cafeteria, the sounds of movement slowing down, the chatter quieting down, the laughter absent.

"HUH?"

"it's not her," said megumi, sounding alarmed as he shrunk in his seat. he looked uncomfortable with the amount of eyes on your table, cheeks tinging pink as he pulled his shirt up to cover the lower half of his face. "it's tsumiki."

"tsumiki?" you whispered, stupefied. you looked up, suddenly aware of the hundreds of eyes on you and your friends, including kamo's, who was carelessly watching from the table across yours. you felt your neck warm as you lowered your voice even further. "would've been helpful if you said that earlier," you hissed.

and nobara...

nobara looked beyond offended.

perhaps not as much as she did when you'd intentionally mention @jujutsuhighships and their sudden post about her and malakai, but still offended enough to be taken seriously by the rest of you on that table.

"let me make one thing clear," she began, her gaze fiery, "i would never be attracted to that guy."

yuji shook his head, perplexed. "but you're rude to him," he said, his tone the epitome of bewilderment, as though trying to find the right pieces of a puzzle to put together.

nobara shot him a vicious look. you could have sworn you'd seen him cower slightly.

"i'm rude to you," she reminded him, venom dripping with each word, each syllable, each letter she uttered. "does that mean i like you? ew!"

"i thought..." mumbled yuji, brows contorted in doubt and uncertainty, "that girls... they're mean to the guys they like...?"

"well you thought wrong," nobara snapped angrily. she then pointed at megumi, expression borderline violent. "look at him! he's mean to everyone, does that mean he likes them?"

yuji frowned. "megumi's not a girl —"

"said no one ever," you coughed.

megumi wasted no time kicking you beneath the table. you shot him a fierce look, hitting him back with a clenched fist.

your gaze wandered back to kamo across the cafeteria, his steady eyes meeting yours just as you looked up, and you found yourself frowning, not out of embarrassment, but in silent self-reflection, realising that you had completely misread the situation with nobara. the thought of kamo and tsumiki together definitely seemed strange at first, an unlikely pair with her quiet warmth and his distant behaviour — but somehow, it was an arrangement that you supposed almost made sense.

almost.

it was still weird, no matter how many times you repeated it like a mantra in your own head.

there was a softness in his gaze as he looked away, and you found yourself reconsidering the assumptions you'd made.

it didn't matter anyway — you had to set up a tutoring session with him sooner or later, you concluded, silently standing up. might as well get it over and done with.

"i'll be right back," you told your friends casually.

"where are you going?" megumi questioned, looking mildly curious despite his attempts to look unbothered.

you gestured over to kamo's table.

"my new math tutor," you answered, before throwing megumi a scowl. "which isn't you by the way, 'cause you didn't wanna do anything about being my tutor."

megumi averted his gaze, absentmindedly turning his phone on and scrolling through random articles online while simultaneously jutting his chin in kamo's direction

"scuttle's waiting for you," he stated, bored.

you grabbed your schoolbag, feeling its heavy weight in your hand as you swung it towards megumi with just enough force to make him wince and raise an arm defensively. the thud echoed in the small space between you, and a faint, barely-there smirk pulled at your lips as you saw him grumble something under his breath, glaring up at you as though you had committed blasphemy.

tossing the bag back onto your seat with a casual flick, you straightened up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, and cast a quick glance at kamo's table: he was sitting with chad, silently nodding every once in a while as the blonde spoke to him animatedly.

steeling yourself, you headed towards their table, and it was as though the two had sensed you drawing nearer, for both their heads had turned to face you, brows raised.

chad raised a hand; kamo did nothing.

"hey, y/n," said chad, watching you as you sat across him, a respectable amount of space between yourself and kamo. "what's up?"

you returned his look with a warm smile.

"not much, just needed to speak with kamo," you replied, letting your gaze shift over to kamo, catching his eye for a brief moment.

chad's thick brows rose, eyes widened like he'd finally put two complicated final pieces of a puzzle together.

"oh yeah, since he's your math tutor now," he added, flashing his friend a playful grin. "that's so cool, dude."

you raised a curious brow, tilting your head as you looked between the two of them, intrigued.

"ken— mr nanami told you?" you asked, eyes shifting back and forth as though searching their expressions for confirmation.

you were well aware of the email he'd sent to you, confirming that kamo would be your tutor, but you'd assumed that you were going to have to be the one to communicate that to kamo instead.

wow, you thought to yourself in your head, unsurprised. kento seriously had truly given the decision a lot of 'careful consideration'.

"he told me in business class yesterday," said kamo, shrugging.

your expression had shifted to one of delight.

"and you agreed?"

kamo's expression had remained unmoving. it reminded you of the face freeze episode from spongebob, except you were certain that kamo truly did not care about how careless he looked a hundred percent of the time.

"he said it'd give me extra credit," he told you honestly. "and i could put it down as volunteering hours in my college application."

your expression faltered, the initial excitement softening into something closer to resignation. though you appreciated kamo's honesty, you couldn't ignore the slight surprise that had tugged at you. his bluntness, while straightforward, was different from what you were used to with your friends like nobara or megumi. with them, bluntness came with familiarity; here, it felt different, but perhaps it was because of the fact that — reminding yourself of this once again — you had never properly held a conversation with the careless, unbothered boy.

chad, watching the exchange, shook his head with a small, bemused frown, apparently reading more into the situation than kamo seemed to have done.

"wow," you sighed, shaking your head in disappointment, "only for extra credit, and not 'cause a friend of a friend needs help?"

kamo raised a brow at you.

"friend of a friend?" he repeated.

helpfully, chad spoke up. "that's me, man."

kamo took one look at you and relented, pulling his phone out and sliding it over to you, eyes half-lidded.

"sure," he'd said, as you eyed the device warily. "put your number in, we can start tomorrow."

you picked up kamo's phone from the table, absentmindedly tilting your hands forward to inspect it. predictably, it was as bland as the boy who owned it — a plain navy case devoid of any distinguishing marks or personality, with a slightly scratched screen that suggested it had been dropped a few times but never enough to shatter. the wallpaper, visible for a fleeting second before the screen dimmed, was just black. not a minimalistic design, not a landscape or a photo— just the default black screen.

it felt fitting somehow, matching kamo's neutral demeanour.

you typed your number in with quick, efficient taps, and for a moment, you considered saving your contact with something clever, if only to spice up the device a little.

seriously, you thought to yourself, as you wrote your name in, it's worse than uncle ogi's.

you slid it back over, smiling at him when he picked it up, his brow twitching at your display name:

<kamotionless's student3

he didn't say anything, only looking at you as though you had grown two heads.

you watched kamo's expression, your grin only growing as a faint flicker of something crossed his otherwise stoic face; you weren't quite sure what it was, but you concluded that it had to be something in between irritation and intrigue.

feeling rather pleased with your handiwork, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms in quiet triumph, and chad, ever the instigator, leaned over to sneak a peek at the screen in kamo's hand. his amusement was infectious, and you couldn't help but join in, watching as kamo's brow furrowed ever so slightly — a rare crack in his expression.

"sorry, man, but she got you," laughed chad, as kamo merely slipped his phone into his pocket with a sigh, his lack of response betraying nothing but mild exasperation.

"my history class is cancelled tomorrow," said kamo, sitting up in his seat and peering back at you. "what about yours?"

"same," you nodded, trying to remember the layout of your timetable. it was still a new one that you had yet to properly get used to. "so before physics tomorrow?"

it was settled.

tomorrow, in the hour before physics, you'd have your first-ever tutoring session with kamo. the idea felt strangely weighty, though you couldn't quite pinpoint why. perhaps it was because of the fact that during cancelled sessions, the ones you shared with nobara would be spent with messing around in the girls' toilets, forcing your way into yuji's classes, reminding megumi how much you 'missed' him outside of his classes. it had never been spent studying with kamo.

regardless, you'd made up your mind to make it work, and as you stood to leave his table and go back to yours, being polite enough to wave at him and chad, you were surprised to find that you didn't quite dread the idea of noritoshi kamo being your new math tutor.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the classroom was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the occasional scratch of your pencil against paper. sunlight filtered weakly through the partially drawn blinds, casting slanted lines across the tiled floor and the battered desks around you.

you had taken an unoccupied classroom with kamo for your first tutor session, but only after discovering the library to be utterly useless — the librarian didn't enjoy partnered work that involved talking, evidently, so you'd silently taken your leave and discovered several empty classes to use.

kamo sat beside you, phone in hand, the muted glow of the screen reflecting on his impassive face. though his attention seemed fixed on whatever he was scrolling through, every few minutes, his gaze flickered towards your notebook, scanning the equations you were working on with a measured glance. it was a strange rhythm — the way he balanced distraction with diligence — but it seemed to work, his occasional corrections or affirming nods offering just enough guidance without breaking the silence.

you shifted in your seat, pausing for a moment to reread the problem before scribbling down your next attempt, but there was an itch somewhere in the back of your mind.

you were bored.

you could only so much math before your brain started hallucinating numbers and swirls on the floor where only the hard concrete should be.

eyeing the blank whiteboard, a lightbulb flickered on over your head.

"what if," you began, spinning the pencil in your hand, "you taught me all this stuff using the whiteboard?"

kamo placed his phone on the table dismissively. "no."

you sighed, brows furrowed and lips downturned ever so slightly.

"please?" you tried again.

and to your surprise, you watched as he let out a long sigh, apparently relenting to your demand, his hands gripping at the table as he pushed himself back, the creak of the chair against the floorboards scratching that pesky itch in your brain.

"kamo —" you began, unsure of what was happening before you.

"don't have second thoughts now," he said, picking up a red board-marker from the unoccupied desk and pulling off its lid.

you blinked in shock.

"i'm not!" you told him, sitting up in excitement as he actually wrote more equations for you to work through on the empty board. "i thought i'd have to persuade you a bit more... is all."

you watched his back, watched as one hand scribbled example demonstrations on the board as the other raised itself to scratch at his head, his silky hair tied in a low bun.

kamo turned around and tapped the board with the back of the pen.

"work through these and let me know if you're stuck... again," he'd told you, securing the lid on the pen with a satisfying click that sounded around the empty classroom.

again, you heard his voice repeat in your head, frowning as he peered back at you, expressionless.

"i'm sorry, were you expecting someone who already knew the content?" you shot back, your arms folded over the table as you leaned up to press your front against the edge. "and i asked you to teach me using the board, not just write a bunch of equations on there — i could do that any time i want."

kamo let out a deep, deliberate sigh, his shoulders rising and falling in a way that suggested equal parts reluctance and resignation. you waited patiently, his expression shifting ever so slightly, a faint flicker of annoyance crossing his otherwise unreadable features before settling back into his usual impassivity, and you could barely hold back the grin tugging at your lips, your excitement bubbling under your skin as you watched him turn back towards the board.

for a fleeting moment, you were convinced he was about to toss the marker aside and return to his seat, but instead, he raised it again and began writing more deliberately this time, the marker squeaking faintly against the smooth surface.

the realization hit you all at once: he was actually going to teach you just because you had asked. your heart leapt, and you sat up straighter, practically buzzing with anticipation. this was better than you'd hoped — who knew noritoshi kamo was such a people-pleased?

certainly not you.

he explained what he was doing as he went, putting you on the spot and asking you questions, going back to write on the board, highlighting your mistakes. it was as though you were having a one-to-one class with a genius.

he placed the marker back down on the desk when you had finally grasped the topic.

"had no idea you could be so compliant," you grinned, raising your brows teasingly.

kamo stared at you, inert and idle.

"don't say it like that," he told you, looking sullen. "i see the way you react when yuji doesn't listen to you," he added, pulling back the chair beside you to sit on it again. "i don't really want my hair pulled out of my scalp."

"oh i can tell," you laughed, eyeing his bun. "it looks healthier than half the girls' at the school. you take advice from nobara or something? you could give her a run for her money, y'know."

not that you'd ever tell her that.

kamo averted his gaze, some type of emotion you couldn't quite describe passing by his features quicker than you could pinpoint. he looked like he was remembering something almost traumatic.

"something like that," he settled on saying, his voice low and dismissive.

you picked up your pencil again, leaning over your notebook as the quiet settled back in, save for the soft scratch of graphite against paper. the equations in front of you demanded attention, but your mind wandered, replaying kamo's fleeting expression like a puzzle you couldn't quite solve.

the classroom itself, as you worked silently, felt heavy with the kind of quiet that wasn't entirely uncomfortable, just contemplative.

and yet, the stillness had been disrupted as kamo's voice cut through the air — low, casual, but carrying just enough curiosity to pull your focus back to him.

"ryan sent me some old post from that ship account."

you looked up, watching him show you his phone where his friend had, indeed, sent him a post from @jujutsuhighships.

you raised your brows in pleasant surprise, a grin tugging at your lips at the video playing before you. the account had taken what yuji had posted on twitter years ago and revived it a few months ago:

"toge!" yuji's enthusiastic voice sounded from the speakers on kamo's phone. he jammed the camera in middle-school-toge's face at the gym where the basketball players were having their first play of the season. "if you and y/n are together, does that — that makes me, like, your brother-in-law, right?"

toge shrugged. "sure."

and then the camera was a blur of motion, for yuji had whipped the camera around to find you, sitting on a bench beside nobara, who was sandwiched between yourself and megumi.

your brows raised in amazement: you had almost forgotten about nobara's dark hair, the natural colour she'd sported before eventually dying it to become something more brighter. you thought she looked flattering both ways.

"y/n, when did you and toge get together?" yuji called out loudly over the chatter, cheers, and laughter.

you made a face as though deep in thought. it was fake, you knew it, your friends knew it, but funnily enough, nobody else knew it.

"since elementary school," you said, throwing the camera a thumbs up.

"was that before or after he told everyone you were a mermai—"

"megumi!"

the video ended abruptly.

kamo looked at you expectantly, brow raised.

"don't look at me like that," you responded, looking mock abashed, drawing doodles in the corner of your notebook. "why's ryan sending you  a video of me anyway?"

kamo shrugged.

"told the group chat i was gonna tutor you," he explained candidly. "some of them started digging old stuff back up. like this."

the realisation left a ripple of amusement bubbling in your chest, spreading to the corners of your lips as you tried to suppress a grin. you found it hilariously ironic that kamo's friends had taken on the role of internet detectives, and the thought of them collectively scouring old posts about you (there weren't many, you had to remember) and then tossing them into their group chat as if it were their sacred duty to find out who their friend was tutoring like you were some criminal, was almost endearing.

almost.

there was something undeniably funny about kamo, usually so reserved, being at the mercy of his friends' efforts to humiliate both him and, indirectly, you. it wasn't lost on you that they'd essentially done his homework for him — and you didn't mind, especially when it meant revisiting moments that always confused everyone around you, for the relationship between toge and yourself was non-existent — not that anyone who had asked knew that fact, of course.

"is it true?" kamo had asked, the video replaying in the background again.

you threw him a smile, swirling the end of your pencil around his face teasingly.

"wouldn't you like to know?" you hummed, before chuckling at his scowl. "nah, just kidding. it's true."

he raised a sceptical brow at you. you leaned in, cupping you mouth as though anyone else were in the room to hear you.

"it's not, we just leave it unspoken 'cause it confuses people," you whispered lowly, before pressing your back against your chair again, beaming at him. "it's true! toge and i have been a thing for years now!"

kamo looked visibly confused. it only made you laugh harder.

"you're smart," you voiced, spinning the pencil in your hand, unaware. "who do you think is behind that ship account?"

kamo's gaze drifted upwards, a subtle furrow in his brow, tapping a finger lightly on the table, slouching in his chair. his expression didn't give much away — calm and composed as always — but the faint narrowing of his eyes suggested he was running through possibilities, weighing each name and motive like a detective in a silent deliberation.

"no idea," he finally replied, untroubled.

you furrowed your brows at him, unimpressed.

"that was anti-climactic."

he shrugged. "they're good at remaining anonymous, whoever they are."

you hummed in response, agreeing, the corners of your mouth twitching in subtle amusement.

it made sense, after all — whoever was behind the account clearly knew how to stay hidden, and there was something oddly impressive about their ability to remain anonymous despite the chaos they stirred. you found yourself intrigued by their cleverness, even if you'd never admit it aloud, and you wondered, just for a moment, if the person running it might be someone you knew better than you realised.

you were unsure of how you'd react if it happened to be one of your friends.

"well i know who it can't be," you said, serious.

kamo glanced at you expectantly; you looked fixedly back at him.

"malakai," you stated confidently.

kamo rolled his eyes, his shoulders deflating.

"who would have thought?" he responded sarcastically, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

"certainly not you, 'cause you were waiting for my response," you jested, biting your inner cheeks to hide your obvious grin.

"whoever they are," kamo began, sounding solemn, "they've got a shit ton of haters. someone's gonna unmask them soon."

you laughed at his sombre expression. "you say it like it's a prophecy." though arguably, you concluded in your head, kamo sported a grave look under any circumstance. "they seem pretty tame though, nothing wild has happened yet."

"define 'wild'."

your thoughts wandered for a moment, trailing after his question.

what even defined 'wild' in this context?

you supposed it would mean some kind of messy fallout — maybe public confrontations or friendships shattered over a cleverly edited video. but as far as you knew, the ship account seemed to toe a fine line, thriving off drama without pushing it into complete chaos. it made up theories, sure, but would always make sure to mention in the captions whether it was true or not, whether it was alleged or not.

it was a curious balance, really, and you found yourself marveling at their ability to walk that tightrope. but perhaps 'wild' wasn't about what had happened yet, rather what could happen, and you couldn't help but imagine how thin that line might grow before someone, inevitably, fell.

"something unbelievable," you explained out loud. "something so crazy, no one would believe it. like, information that's almost certain to be false."

"so... you and tog—"

"— lower your voice —" you hissed, looking over your shoulder with wide eyes.

"— there's no one in this room but us —"

"still!"

kamo had raised his hands up in faux surrender. "right, my bad."

you looked around again.

indeed, the classroom was empty, but the whole toge-and-you situation had been running strong for years. you couldn't risk it being ruined by kamo's big mouth.

once you were certain of security, you nodded at him to continue.

"so you and toge?" he repeated, but this time, with a voice you could only catch by leaning in.

"but that's believable," you argued calmly, the pencil in your hand spinning with ease. "even you believed it."

kamo shook his head. "i didn't."

you grinned, smug. "you believed it enough to ask me about it, no?"

he averted his gaze, a silent movement of defeat.

"fair point," he stated, making your grin widen as your pencil spun faster between your fingers.

what he had said next, however, had resulted in multiple things happening at once.

"what about you and i?"

your pencil had fallen from between your fingers, clattering and rolling on the floor.

your breath caught for a moment, an involuntary reaction to his question, which hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite.

a wave of warmth had surged up, pooling at the tips of your ears, a sensation both startling and unfamiliar. it wasn't embarrassment, exactly, you never felt that (with the sole exception of toji reminding you of how as a child, you strongly believed he was fat and not just buff) but something closer to a jolt of disbelief, as if his words had landed in a place you hadn't anticipated being struck. your fingers instinctively twitched towards the pencil that had slipped from your grasp, a physical reflex to anchor yourself against the ripple of surprise coursing through you.

for a heartbeat, you were rendered motionless, your mind fumbling over how to respond, caught between brushing it off and examining the peculiar weight his words carried...

or if they carried any weight at all. what if you were just reading too much into his suggestion? what if you were just being overly dramatic?

because kamo seemed just fine.

kamo looked as though he had just asked you about the weather forecast tomorrow. kamo did not seem as stupefied as you.

in fact, kamo looked as though he'd been startled by your reaction, as if it wasn't explainable.

and maybe it wasn't.

or perhaps it was.

you weren't so sure anymore.

he was the first to break the tense silence.

"it's a possibility," he'd said. again, speaking like it was an everyday topic, common knowledge, like one plus one equals two. "we'll be spending more time together with all this tutoring."

"yeah..." you mumbled, dazed.

your hands had flown up to your ears, and you kept it like that as you spoke, ignoring the odd look he'd sent you.

"it'd be crazy weird, actually," you said, reminding yourself of the fact that since you and tsumiki were like family, a rumour or crack-ship between yourself and kamo would be wrong on so many levels.

kamo was staring at your hands, brows furrowed slightly, but just enough to form a crease between them, showcasing his visible confusion.

"why are you —"

"oh, this?" you chortled, shrugging. his voice sounded muffled. "fall's coming soon. what do you think of me in earmuffs?"

and kamo had only tilted his head slightly, his bewilderment evident in the way his gaze flickered between your hands and your face, his lips parting as if he wanted to ask yet another question, but thought better of it.

"i —"

you interrupted him, panicked and hurried, for the warmth in your ears had not died down yet for some odd reason. it was too late to consider the fact that he would definitely not have noticed that you were slightly confounded if you hadn't rushed to stop the heat beneath your skin. 

"i'd look great, right?" you beamed, unsure of why you just kept talking. "earmuffs and leg warmers, too!"

"i can't tell... your hands are in the way —"

"yeah... i'm using them as a visual..."

he didn't push after that, but his silence only heightened your awareness of the absurdity of your reaction. you could feel the tension pooling in the air, your heart beating just a little faster than it had any right to. his confusion mirrored your own internal turmoil, and yet, he seemed to take it all in stride, waiting for you to drop the act without pressuring you to explain yourself. you did not know what was happening, for the fluttering unease in your chest left you feeling strangely exposed, like a glass case filled with nerves and no cover.

the awkward moment stretched, then snapped as you both seemed to silently agree to let it pass.

clearing your throat, you busied yourself by retrieving your fallen pencil and opening your notebook. thankfully, kamo followed suit, his focus sliding back to the equations sprawled across the page, though he occasionally shot you a few glances. you told yourself it was to make sure that you weren't making any mistakes in your notebook, but you did not know how much you believed in that.

but by the time you had solved the next equation, it was as if the strange exchange had never happened, even though a faint trace of warmth lingered at the edges of your thoughts.

the hour had passed quicker than expected, and before you knew it, you and kamo were making your way to satoru's physics class.

it was convenient, for you had bumped into megumi along the way and hadn't even noticed it. not until he had — very elegantly — called out to you.

"oi, mermaid."

you whipped around on the spot, your expression sour as you glared at the tall boy standing by his locker with furrowed brows. from your peripheral vision, you could see that kamo had also halted.

"stop acting like a hood-rat and address a lady properly, porcupine," you scolded, eyeing him up and down with visible irritation.

"you answered though —"

"— and stop trying to act smart —"

"— it wasn't an act —"

"okay i'm leaving," you snapped, turning away and walking off. "c'mon, kamo."

you strode past him, internally pleased when he silently followed, and despite yourself, you still kept an ear out to listen to whatever your friend had to say.

"come to the open game next week," you heard megumi utter lowly. "you won't get kicked out this time 'cause your entry is authorised."

you turned around and gave him a thumbs up, your eyes narrowed due to the nickname he'd shamelessly given you in front of kamo. that had to be addressed at some point. megumi couldn't throw that around so carelessly anymore.

"i'll see you there, porcupine!" you responded brightly, walking off with kamo and tilting your head up to meet his gaze when he had remained staring down at you in mild curiosity. "what?"

"you ever gonna tell anyone what mermaid means?" he asked you, and the speed at which your expression had turned stony would beat record time.

"i'm taking it to my grave."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

satoru leaned against the doorframe of his classroom with his usual playful smile that showcased his effortless confidence, exuding an air of relaxed authority.

his tall frame cast a faint shadow over the polished floor, and the sunlight filtering through the windows seemed to catch on the edges of his stark white hair. both his arms rested at his sides where his hands had been shoved into the pockets of his pants, looking more relaxed than any teacher should.

the faintest hint of amusement curled at the corners of his mouth, acknowledging the steady stream of students entering with a faint nod or tilt of his head.

"melody, i see that piece of gum in your mouth," he commented slyly.

the student in question paused and threw a look at him, her shoulders drooping in disappointment as she started towards the small trashcan near his desk.

"don't spit it out," he said, watching her shake her head at him and walk over to her seat instead.

"what was the point of even saying that?" she mumbled, but she looked relieved nonetheless, dropping her bag onto the floor as she pulled herself forward in her stool.

satoru merely shrugged, turning back to the other sets of students entering the classroom.

"hey sir!"

"hi mr gojo."

"afternoon, sir."

"noah," satoru beamed, watching as the tall boy grinned up at him. "no liam today?"

"he's getting yelled at by miss utahime," noah answered with a laugh, pointing at the hallway behind him.

satoru's brows rows in surprise, though he did not look as though he expected anything less.

"'course he is," he chuckled, shaking his head with a toothy grin. "i'd go and save him, but i'd probably walk into a singing session."

the students gathered near the door burst into laughter at his casual jab at the other teacher. a couple of students exchanged knowing looks, clearly in on the running joke, while others shook their heads with amused disbelief at their teacher's brazen sense of humour, and satoru — entirely unfazed — wore an exaggeratedly innocent expression, as though he had no idea what could possibly be so funny.

his toothy grin had only started to falter and dim when he looked down the hallway, expecting to see noah and utahime, but met with the sight of you and kamo walking in together.

his head had followed you, doing a full one-eighty as you smiled at him and made your way to the table closest to his desk.

"hey, satoru," you'd causally greeted him, unaware of the twitch of his right eye when you invited kamo over to sit with you instead of the stool in dim corner at the other end of the classroom he usually sat in.

satoru broke the fourth wall with a grimace.

the only thing that stopped him from staring off into the distance, with that disgusted, annoyed look on his face, was yuji's voice, low and confused, speaking right into his teacher's ear.

"gojo?"

he slowly averted his gaze from the fourth wall to meet his student's eyes, wide with confusion and concern.

"what were you staring at?" yuji asked, his own eyes darting back off into the distance — once, twice, thrice — before looking up at satoru with curious, raised brows.

satoru only shook his head, kicking the door-stopper away and allowing the door to close behind him as he walked over to his desk, apparently disgruntled.

"nothing," he mumbled, jutting his chin at the vacant seat on your table, across from you and next to yuko ozawa, his grin slowly returning. "sit down, i have an announcement."

yuji's face fell instantly, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief as if he had just been hit with the worst news imaginable. you furrowed your brows at him as his shoulders visibly stiffened, his hand gripping at the edge of the desk as though steadying himself against some invisible force.

for a brief, comical moment, he looked utterly horrified, his mouth opening slightly before snapping shut again, leaving him in silent turmoil. you thought he looked like your pet goldfish that had tragically died years ago, as the rest of the classroom bustled with their usual chatter, oblivious to the small storm of emotions brewing in yuji's head.

"what the hell's wrong with you?" you voiced, but it did not seem to compute to your friend, who only seemed interested in your teacher.

"a surprise pop quiz again?" he said, which had sent a ripple of whispers around the classroom, everyone looking distraught.

the last time this had happened, it was because of yuji's movie suggestion to satoru, who ended up hating it so much, he assigned a surprise pop quiz for everyone as retribution. the class had yet to forgive yuji for even suggesting anything to your overly-dramatic teacher.

everyone was holding their breath, as though breathing meant the chances of another surprise pop quiz would go up by a hundred. the relief had only settled in once satoru confirmed that there was, in fact, no pop quiz.

"don't be so dramatic," he'd said, leaning against his desk with a lazy grin, only causing you to stare back at him, deadpanned. the irony, you thought to yourself silently. "you can all breathe now," he continued, an air of indifference surrounding him. "there's no surprise pop quiz."

if you hadn't been sitting right in front of him, you would have missed what he'd grumbled under his breath:

"but i was considering it."

he had moved on from the topic so quickly, his mood bright and cheery again, that you thought you might have imagined it.

satoru picked up a marker from the mess of pens on his desk and walked over to his large whiteboard, writing in block capitals — NEW SEATING PLAN!!!

with a smiley face at the end, of course.

"new seating plan?" liam read out, sounding incredulous.

everyone's heads had collectively turned to the door he had just walked through. he raised his brows at satoru, lost.

"but you always let us sit where we want," he added, as several other students voiced their agreement all at once.

satoru pointed at the empty stool next to noah, nodding.

"you're filling me in on what happened with miss utahime by the way," he'd said, as liam sat next to his friend, bag discarded on the floor, kicked beneath the lab table. satoru stared back at his writing on the board, as though staring at the mona lisa for the first time. "relax, it's nothing too bad. you guys —"

fhere was a sudden clatter from beneath the sink, loud enough to draw everyone's attention.

malakai had emerged, his head bumping the underside of the counter in his haste, his wide, alarmed eyes fixed on the board, expression a mixture of disbelief and dread, with his mouth slightly open as though he'd just witnessed something catastrophic.

there was a panicked stillness as he stared at the words, as if the announcement alone had thrown his entire existence into question.

satoru threw him a look.

"get back under the table, kai, it doesn't apply to you," he'd said, sounding just slightly exasperated.

malakai exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping in visible relief as he scrambled back beneath the sink, head disappearing into the shadows of the cabinet, but not before he muttered something unintelligible to himself.

you could tell (from the faint shuffling sounds) it was clear that he was adjusting himself, settling in as though reclaiming a familiar sanctuary, the earlier panic melting away with every movement.

your eyes drifted back to your teacher's face as he continued:

"anyway, what was i saying? oh yeah — you guys have seating plans in your other classes, right?"

he nodded at rana afzal, who had her arm raised with a frown.

"we do, but we hate it," she'd said, looking worried, "and i like my seat."

"me too."

"yeah, same."

satoru made his way over to your table, wriggling his brows when you met his gaze through his sunglasses. he tilted his head down, and if it hadn't been for those ridiculous, opaque lenses, you would have noticed him glancing between you and kamo, calculating.

"y/n!" he beamed, too enthusiastic for your liking.

"that's me," you agreed, suspicious.

he leaned down, resting his elbow on your table, pointing at kamo, who did not look the slightest bit fazed.

"do you like sitting next to him?" he asked you casually.

you looked at kamo. it had barely been five minutes since you had sat next to him. there wasn't much to judge based on that.

yet you had spent the last hour learning how to solve quadratic equations with him, which also required sitting next to him, and he had been perfectly fine then.

there was no reason not to like sitting next to him. kamo kept to himself, and when he spoke, it was easy to speak back despite never having actually spoken to him prior to any tutoring sessions.

"yeah," you answered, as satoru's toothy grin remained stagnant on his face, "i like sitting next to —"

"no you don't! kamo, move over there," satoru swiftly interrupted, his tone bright and his voice resounding.

expression hardening, you followed his long, pointer finger, growing more annoyed and murderous when you realised he was expecting kamo to go trot back to his original seat, the stool on the table at the other end of the class closest to the door.

unlike you, kamo had no complaints, silently getting up to leave, though he held no care to tuck in his stool.

you watched him leave with furrowed brows.

"what was the point of asking me if i liked sitting next to him if you move him straight after?" you demanded, staring up at the man-child, who only seemed to relish in your irritation towards him, as though he thrived on being such a bother to people.

arguably, that was exactly what he did.

"it was a test," he answered dismissively, waving a hand at you before walking over to his desk to grab the board-marker eraser. "you failed."

he swiped his writing away, and once that had been done, he haphazardly threw the eraser at his desk, uncaring of the mess of pens that rolled straight off, clashing against the floor, one after the other.

"and everyone else can stay where they are, permanently!" satoru added, emphasising the long word by elongating it as he spoke. he looked around at everyone as he brought up the powerpoint for the lesson. "see? not so bad! you guys were crying over nothing!"

you glared at him. "you —"

"o-kay! moving on: kinematics!"

the classroom fell into an awkward, buzzing silence, students exchanging puzzled looks and darting glances satoru, who had so dramatically upended their expectations. a few of them leaned closer to their neighbours, mouths cupped as they muttered their confusion, while others simply gawked at the absurdity of the seating plan satoru had so confidently announced.

your own patience frayed further with every passing second.

was this truly the extent of his grand idea? just moving kamo and leaving it at that? your annoyance simmered, a steady undercurrent beneath your feigned calm, as you watched satoru bask in the tranquil chaos he'd caused, utterly unbothered by the confusion he'd left in his wake as he pulled up a number of recap slides to jog everyone's memory of kinematics.

it hadn't been a plan — it wasn't even order.

it was satoru gojo doing whatever satoru gojo wanted, as always.

"sir," a boy, connor hayes, had raised his arm, looking desperate.

satoru raised his brows at him, acknowledging his arm and silently encouraging him to speak.

"can i switch seats?" he asked, looking very uncomfortable where he sat.

you couldn't blame him — the girl on his left reminded you of veera from elementary school. the thought of her nearly made you gag again.

a trauma response, you decided, shivering.

satoru adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, looking at connor with a faintly raised brow, as though weighing the boy's predicament with theatrical seriousness. the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, betraying his internal amusement.

you already predicted his response, and found yourself feeling bad for the poor boy.

your teacher leaned back against his desk with the easy grace of someone who thrived on moments like these, his grin widening to a playful smirk. it was the look of a man who had no intention of making anyone's day easier, though his demeanour suggested otherwise.

behind those opaque glasses, there was no mistaking the sheer delight he took in the chaos he had just stirred.

"you picked your seat," satoru reminded him.

"yeah, but..." connor began, hesitating, "but i didn't know it was gonna be permanent."

satoru turned back to the board with a smile. "you'll live. so! remember this formula: u is the initial velocity, a is the acceleration, and t is the —"

"but you only moved one person, sir!"

the white-haired idiot looked at connor with his usual toothy smile, but you could tell, he did not seem pleased with the interruption. it was written over his face, and having known him for as long as you had, reading his expressions — even while he held up that mask of joy — was easy as pie.

again, you could not believe the irony here, for satoru constantly enjoyed interrupting and talking so much, just to hear the sound of his own voice.

your eyes found kamo's.

he didn't look too bothered.

you felt annoyed on his behalf regardless.

"you can move seats," said satoru, taking connor by surprise. you knew there was a catch, of course there was a catch: it was satoru. "... outside of the class!"

the hope on connor's face had fallen just as soon as it had arrived.

"but —"

"all right, if you aren't outta here by the time i take this blindfold off..." satoru explained, digging into his drawer and pulling out a thin, black blindfold which he began wrapping around his head, his white hair standing up as he tied and secured it at the back.

he looks like a pineapple, you thought to yourself bitterly.

your classmates began collectively speaking:

"why does he casually just... have a blindfold on him?"

"yeah, it's... creepy...?"

"what the hell?"

"the CDE needs to see this —"

despite his vision being completely obscured, satoru's head had snapped sharply towards the student who had voiced this concern, his jaw tightening visibly as the faint tick of tension rippled through his otherwise stoic expression.

"my favourite party game just so happens to be pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey," he stated, looking disgusted. "stop trying to sabotage your good looking teacher for no reason, giselle."

the longer he spoke, the more your mind churned with irritation.

you had expected something more from the seating plan, a real seating rearrangement, perhaps, something that would have made sense. there was, you noted, as the class went on despite the silent anger you wallowed in, no reasoning behind it.

he was a petty man, you understood that, but never to his own students. he enjoyed teaching his classes; his students enjoyed being in his classes. so what, you pondered to yourself, inquisitive, did satoru have against kamo?

nothing, probably, you had finally decided with a frown.

in fact, you'd probably done something to make him react such a way. he had a history of pulling tricks from out of his sleeve whenever someone did something to him (like when shoko told suguru of his minor rivalry against mimiko and nanako, which then resulted in satoru setting her up on a blind date with a cessation specialist).

across the classroom, your gaze flickered to kamo, still seated in that corner, jotting down notes as satoru continued droning on.

you couldn't help but notice how he was still indifferent towards the whole thing. had it been you in his position, you would have threatened to report satoru for teacher bias (never actually going through with it, of course).

trying to bridge the gap between the two of you, you leaned forward, intent on catching his attention, but as you opened your mouth to speak, satoru shifted, stepping deliberately into your line of sight.

his height, as always, created an impenetrable barrier between yourself and kamo.

and he had the audacity to throw you a wink when you made another attempt by moving to the other side instead.

he remained positioned in front of the dark haired boy, blocking your view and rendering your efforts completely futile.

frustration simmered again as you tried to focus past satoru's towering figure, but kamo remained an elusive enigma, hidden from you in plain sight.

and that was exactly how the rest of the class had gone, with satoru making quite sure that communication between the two of you would be so difficult to manage because of him, that in the end, you'd give up entirely.

and you did.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"any of you need a ride home after your extracurriculars? i'm going round the block to drop something off at suguru's."

"yeah."

"yeah, thanks gojo!"

"i call shotgun, losers."

"no."

the others turned to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at the sharpness of your tone, unsure whether you, usually bubbly and bright, meant to sound that harsh.

satoru's office, typically cluttered with papers and half-empty coffee cups, had become an impromptu hangout space for the four of you after classes. despite the looming end of the school day, none of you were heading home just yet.

megumi and yuji were going to football practice, the usual post-school ritual of sweaty drills, nobara had cheerleading, and as the second-in-command, had a lot of demands to meet, and you had theatre practice, a particularly important session where the layout for the coming weeks would be addressed in.

satoru leaned against the edge of his desk, feet propped up on the worn wooden surface, a casual, almost disinterested look on his face as he watched the four of you interact. the chaos of after-school activities would soon break the temporary stillness, but for now, the office was a brief haven.

except for the part where it belonged to him, paired with the fact that you were still pissed off with his behaviour from earlier on in the day.

"drop the attitude," said satoru, wearing his trademark grin that only made you want to specifically carve out his dimples with a blunt fork. your furrowed your brows at him. "or... i'll set you extra homework —"

"if you keep abusing your power, i'll tell toji to beat you up."

he laughed at that.

heartily, even.

it only served to anger you some more.

"that piece of rotisserie is against us both," he reminded you with another chuckle.

"watch it," megumi mumbled.

if you were in a better mood, you would have teased him for jumping to his dad's defence.

satoru continued as though he hadn't heard him:

"you think he's gonna take your side?" he questioned you, brow raised.

you hated that he had a fair point. you were still going to push aside your pride and demand toji to beat him to a pulp. it benefited the both of you, toji wouldn't be able to turn down the offer unless his wife told him otherwise.

but you knew something that would dig deep into his broad chest and slice through his playful heart.

"i might just form an alliance with him," you shot back, feeling satisfaction bloom in your chest and blossom to its fullest, feeling it run through your blood like adrenaline as you watched his expression fall, jaw clenched and teeth gritted, betrayal circling in his bright irises.

he had taken his glasses off almost immediately, communicating with you through just his eyes.

you understood every word he telepathically voiced, and that only made the gratification of seeing him so betrayed and frustrated even better.

"you guys are against each other?" said megumi, and you couldn't help but hear the delight oozing out of his voice, even if it was unclear to the general public.

nobara, sat on the chair beside him, nodded. "apparently," she'd said, watching you and the man-child — that was sitting underneath a stormy, black cloud at his desk — with narrowed eyes. "what happened? i'm on y/n's side by the way —"

"hey!" satoru scowled.

"oh, it's that thing from physics today!" said yuji, turning to megumi and nobara with wide eyes. "he gave us a new seating plan!"

megumi's eyes had darted from you to satoru and back again. "a seating plan?"

"i've heard enough," said nobara, a hand raised to stop yuji from going on when he'd parted his lips to clarify. "i'm definitely on y/n's side."

megumi's expression had shifted in an instant, the stagnant scowl he usually wore breaking under the weight of genuine surprise. you couldn't blame him: the words 'satoru' and 'seating plan' had never been put in the same sentence in all your years at high school so far.

watching the quiet sharpness he tended to sport flickering with faint incredulity, you couldn't help but feel a small pang of amusement despite your irritation: for someone who usually held his cards so close to his chest, the shock on his face was almost childlike.

"can't believe i'm saying this," he began, breaking his silence, "but what's wrong with a seating plan? it's the only thing he's ever done that actually makes sense."

satoru had been in the process of putting his glasses back on when megumi had voiced his thoughts. the second the dark haired boy had uttered the final word, satoru forgot about his glasses altogether, slamming them on the table as though he'd just experienced a petrifying epiphany.

"megumi... are you defending me?"

megumi's eyes had darkened significantly. "don't look so hopeful. i still think you're stupid."

satoru turned to yuji and nobara with a smile that practically screamed hopeful. "that didn't sound like denial to me..?"

megumi ignored him, turning to you and watching as you folded your arms over your chest and glared at the man sitting happily before you.

"you gonna answer my question or not?" he'd said bluntly, just as nobara scolded yuji for leaning over her head to high-five satoru ('if that's how you treat girls, you're never gonna get one!').

"he literally only moved kamo," you informed him, and at megumi's brow raise, you added more. "...away from me. and then called it a day."

megumi's gaze lingered on you, his brows slightly knitted together, a subtle tilt to his head betraying his confusion. it wasn't the overt, wide-eyed sort of bewilderment, but rather the quiet kind — like he was piecing together a puzzle in his mind and coming up short.

"he's got this personal vendetta against him for some reason, which makes no sense 'cause kamo's just... kamo," you explained, shrugging. "he doesn't even do anything! even you like him, porcupine, and you act like you hate everyone."

megumi scowled down at the back of nobara's head when she had jolted forward in her seat to hit yuji again, which resulted in the chair kicking itself upwards in front of him. he stepped back hastily.

"kamo's tolerable," he agreed, nodding.

"ow— nobara, what the hell?" yuji groaned, causing both you and megumi to looked up and focus on the commotion occurring in front of you:

yuji was rubbing his arm with a pained expression, nobara sitting back with a proud look on her face, her hands holding onto the arms of the chair, as though preparing to launch another attack, before yuji retreated to the other side of the desk, next to satoru.

"hey, who's that?" he asked, leaning down and zeroing in on a small picture frame standing tall on the left corner of satoru's desk. its back was to you, so you had not a single clue on what image he was looking at.

satoru sat up in his chair, leaning forward with a sharp, confident tilt to his posture that instantly put you on edge. had it been any other day, where you could confidently say that you weren't arguing, you would have felt more at ease.

his grin was wide, almost wolfish, the kind that made it clear he was up to something. there was a mischievous glint in his pale blue eyes that shimmered like sunlight on broken glass — deceptive and dangerous. you could practically feel the cocky energy radiating off him, a smugness that seemed to fill the small, messy room.

"that," he began, staring down at the frame with a proud smile, "is my daughter."

all of you froze.

nobara was the first to break the silence.

"you had a daughter with your situationship?" she demanded, sounding furious and looking uncaring of the fact that satoru's smile had fallen at how she'd addressed it. "how come none of us knew?"

"it's not a situationship," he grumbled boyishly. he sounded tired of reiterating it every time. "we're married —"

"hey, she looks like someone," yuji commented, pointing at the frame with a small frown. he looked at the frame, then at satoru, then back at the frame again. he was probably comparing the two. "not like you, though, gojo... are you sure you're the d—"

"yes i'm the dad," he interrupted, brows furrowed in offence.

mock offence, almost.

"stop being greedy and show us already, yuji," said nobara, leaning forward and taking the frame to rest on her lap.

and the second you'd seen the actual image, you burst out laughing.

the frame held an image so absurdly out of character that it was almost magical in its hilarity: a young megumi, no older than one or two, dressed head-to-toe in pink.

glitter sparkled across his small cheeks, and his hair was adorned with delicate bows in pastel colours, framing his sullen expression. a barbie doll was clutched awkwardly in one of his tiny hands, the other holding winx club's flora, as though someone had thrust it upon him mid-tantrum, and the background was equally as ridiculous — a bed draped with ruffled pink sheets and surrounded by an army of plushies. you could see the big, pale hands that were holding his sides, and you knew immediately they belonged to satoru, who had been holding him upright for the picture to be taken.

you erupted into laughter so violently it doubled you over, the sound spilling out of you uncontrollably, and when nobara looked up at you in confusion, you held the frame next to megumi's face, and she had quickly followed suit, her own voice cutting through the air with shrill, unrelenting cackles.

you'd dropped the frame into her arms again as you gasped for breath, and she clutched it to her chest as though it was a priceless artifact, her fingers tightening their grip every time megumi made a move towards her.

his face had turned a deep shade of crimson, brows knitting together as he stood abruptly, trying to snatch the picture away.

"give it here," he demanded, his tone sharp like knives.

when nobara had continued to hold it at all four corners, his eyes had glinted dangerously at satoru, who threw him a cheeky wink.

"i'm going to punch you," megumi had threatened dangerously, growing more and more visibly agitated at the way you had bent down and held the arm of nobara's chair to hold yourself up.

satoru whistled lowly. "that's not very lady-like of you."

megumi turned away abruptly. "i'm leaving —"

"no, no!" you choked, trying, and failing to pull yourself up and stand properly. "no — stop, por— porcupine, we're only kidding! it's not funny..."

megumi ignored you, grabbing his schoolbag and making his way to the door.

"ah, megumi, don't leave just yet," said satoru, eyeing you carefully. "y/n's not off the hook either."

your stomach twisted as satoru's words settled into the air, heavy with an implication you couldn't quite place.

each second stretched into an eternity, and the laughter that had shaken your chest only moments ago felt like a distant memory, replaced by a crawling unease. your heart thumped against your ribs as you tried to decipher what he meant, your mind running through every embarrassing interaction, every minor misstep he could possibly exploit.

but the way his smile had widened only deepened your dread, like he was savouring the power of knowing something you didn't, and then he pulled something out from the drawer attached to his desk.

it was another frame.

you shifted your weight from foot to foot, the tension growing unbearable, as though the ground beneath you might suddenly give way.

karma, you scolded yourself in your head, as he turned the frame around with unmistakeable pride:

it was a titled, angled image of you and megumi at some point in first grade, in the middle of running away from home, each of you holding a bindle; yours a spotted pink, his a spotted red, staring up at the camera looking equally grumpy and distraught.

you remembered that day like it was yesterday.

it was nobara's easy laughter that had you drawing your eyes away from the image, your cheeks feeling hot with anger.

"cut it out," you'd snapped, walking over to try and knock it off the desk, but yuji had skilfully leaped forward, holding onto the frame and keeping it in place, his own sniggering loud enough to make you grit your teeth in irritation.

"look at the back of your heads!" he guffawed, eyes watering as his knuckles turned white with each second that went by you were trying to snatch the frame away.

you were failing, and threw him a sharp look.

"back of our heads?" you repeated, confused, for the photo before you displayed an almost bird's eye view of your fronts. "what do you mean? it's us looking up at the camera."

"what?" said nobara, her pale cheeks pink as she heaved out another breath. "it's — it's neither of those... it's the two of you — oh my god that's so funny — it's the two of you looking down at the camera."

you squinted at the frame again, leaning in closer to examine it.

you were right: from your angle, it was unmistakably an image of you and megumi looking up at the camera, your little faces scrunched in identical, sullen expressions... and yet, the others seemed convinced it was something else entirely.

tilting your head slightly, you frowned, trying to see what they were seeing. the picture didn't seem to shift, at least not at first glance, but their laughter persisted, leaving you more puzzled than before. something about this photo wasn't adding up — and the confusion gnawed at you as you strained to make sense of the strange discrepancy.

but it was when you'd tilted the frame ever so slightly, in an innocent attempt to free it from yuji's iron grip, did you realise what the confusion was.

your gaze locked onto satoru's face — his infuriatingly smug, insufferably self-satisfied expression radiating a level of arrogance that made your blood boil and your glare sharpen into a cold, piercing intensity, each imaginary dagger you hurled from your eyes aimed with the precision of someone whose patience had been thoroughly, utterly obliterated.

"it's a goddamn lenticular hologram," you spat, tone laced with venom.

as expected, yuji and nobara both moved their heads this way and that, trying to look at the different angles of the same image, even despite your stubborn protests.

megumi, who had been lingering by the door, scowled.

"that's what you spend your money on?" he commented, sounding disgusted and incredibly unimpressed.

satoru shrugged carelessly.

"pocket money," he corrected. "when you're as rich as me, this is barely a dent on my bank account."

"hey, scrappy-doo," you called out to megumi, looking at him from over your shoulder, "are you gonna — nobara! stop! — are you gonna help me take this frame or just — ow, my hand! — just stand there and be useless? shit, that hurts!"

megumi did not appreciate your tone nor the choice of name you'd given him. he was not as useless as that dog (perhaps the only dog he'd ever criticise in his lifetime).

he threw you a glare of his own, though he'd realised that the value of it had practically diminished with how often he seemed to use it on you.

"don't look at me like that," you snapped, annoyed. "you're the one who suggested running away to begin with!"

megumi's cheeks had become slightly less pale. he did not like how many eyes were focused on him now. he did not like a lot of things about them: a creepy pair looked amused, another pair seemed shocked, and another pair was round with curiosity.

every single one of them, however, wanted to laugh.

he could tell.

"that's not true," he denied lowly, glowering when yuji had only chuckled harder.

your eyes had widened, the shock of his blatant lie enough to have you release the frame and stand up straighter, gawking at him in stupefaction.

"you're a fat liar, porcupine!" you gasped, disbelief written all over your face and words. "you said we should run away when everyone laughed at us for —"

"take her word for it," megumi interrupted, turning away again, dismissive, "or don't. i don't care. you know who the serial liar is in this room."

you opened your mouth, words sharp and ready to lash back at megumi's dismissal, the heat of indignation coursing through your veins as the retort had begun forming on the tip of your tongue.

but before you could let loose, a crisp knock on the door echoed through the room, silencing the chaos instantly.

it cut through the laughter and tension like a blade, commanding attention and replacing the charged air with a sudden stillness. satoru let out a loud groan, throwing his head back and sighing like a child being reminded of bedtime.

"it's probably negative nancy again," he said, tone clipped as he sat up and placed his glasses on his nose again, expression dull. "come in!"

but instead of the sour-faced teacher who frequently barged in to scold satoru for his casual behavior, the door swung open to reveal kamo, his posture rigid, and his expression betraying only the slightest hint of surprise at your entire friend group being huddled inside the office.

"coach yaga said if yuji and megumi don't turn up to practice on time, he's gonna make everyone run ten laps around the field," he stated precisely, as though it had been rehearsed on the way. kamo's expression did not falter. "i don't wanna run ten laps around the field."

"ah," yuji groaned, standing up and scratching the back of his ear, "what time is it?"

"three-twenty-eight," nobara read from the clock on the wall opposite the display with several students' year book photos.

yuji hurriedly ran for the door, kamo cautiously flattening himself against it so as to not get tackled.

"we're gonna be late — bye guys!" you heard him call out, his voice carrying down the hallway.

megumi exchanged a glance with kamo, looking half annoyed with the ordeal that had occurred before kamo's entrance, and calmly made his way to the door.

kamo's eyes had gone past your friend's face to meet yours, nodding in acknowledgment.

"hi, y/n," he'd said, watching as you waved at him politely.

nobara sat up, her brows furrowing as she threw kamo an incredulous look; he was turning to leave with megumi.

"known him since elementary and there's no 'hi' for me," she said, brow raised as she faced forward again to meet satoru's calculative stare. "can you believe that? so rude."

the teacher nodded thoughtfully. "true, but you'd maul him if he spoke to you."

nobara scrunched her nose at him, displeased. "not an excuse, men used to go to war!"

you stepped towards the door, your gaze lingering on the retreating figures of the boys.

but your brows had begun knitting themselves together when you took note of megumi's deliberate distance from kamo — a space that seemed calculated, almost unnatural, as if he was ensuring they wouldn't be walking too closely. it wasn't the kind of distance borne out of casual walking, but something that felt purposeful: he'd never taken that precaution when walking side by side with yuji.

"you're going to football practice with a liar, by the way!" you called out to kamo, still heated about the untruth megumi had voiced so easily prior to kamo's appearance.

megumi did not look at you when he responded:

"don't you have swim practice to get to?"

you scrunched your nose at the back of his head, turning to satoru and nobara with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

"swim practice?" you repeated, puzzled. "what's he talking about? i don't do... i do theatre."

satoru and nobara were staring back at you with expressions so unrelentingly blank, it was almost unnerving. their eyes, however, told a different story — dancing with mischief and smug amusement, as though they were both in on a joke you weren't yet privy to.

nobara had raised an eyebrow, tilting her head ever so slightly, while satoru had leaned back in his chair, his arms folded lazily over his chest. they said nothing, letting the silence hang heavy, waiting for you to connect the dots.

your eyes widened as the realisation crashed over you like a tidal wave.

swim practice.

the words echoed in your mind, now dripping with mockery.

you clenched your fists, indignation flaring in your chest as you whipped around towards the door again, but by the time you lunged for it and yanked it open, all you caught was the faint echo of his footsteps disappearing down the hall.

too late.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

tsumiki stood near the school's community display board, carefully pinning a brightly coloured sign advertising the upcoming fall festival. the event, scheduled for late september, promised food trucks, games, and a student choir showcase.

her delicate fingers smoothed out the corners of the poster, ensuring it lay flat against the corkboard, a slight smile gracing her face as she stepped back to admire her work. around her, students passed by with their books against their chests, eyeing the poster as they went by, chatting merrily.

she had begun throwing away the empty box of pins when she turned abruptly at the sound of her name, her ponytail swishing as her eyes, unsurprisingly, met kamo's.

he stood a few feet away, posture composed respectfully as he secured the strap of his bag on his shoulder, his expression monotoned.

"you caught me at a better time, kamo," she commented with a gentle smile.

the boy in question furrowed his brows at her.

"you don't look surprised," he responded, blunt as ever.

she knew he meant well, even if he could have chosen to speak in longer sentences.

"i know you and megumi have business class together here," said tsumiki, nodding at the empty classroom on the opposite end of the hallway, "and the girl that was meant to put the fall festival poster up today isn't in, so i had to come down here and do it. you were bound to find me."

she moved her head to the side so as to unblock his view from the poster she'd just put up, a hand raised to present it more formally.

"anyway," she sighed, shaking her head with an air of finality, "so... erm... the student council is currently full right now, which means that you can't join just yet."

kamo had previously approached tsumiki with a straightforward request about joining the student council, expressing an absurd amount of interest in contributing to the group. though his reserved demeanour left little room for elaboration, tsumiki took his request seriously, setting aside time to check for any open positions what-not.

however, she had later discovered that all positions had already been filled for the semester, and as the considerate senior she believed herself to be, made a mental note to inform him directly, not wanting to let the matter go unresolved or leave him waiting unnecessarily.

"but i can always see what's available for the next few semesters?" she suggested brightly. "some of our members have been slacking lately, and... i don't want to get rid of them, but i'm not sure how else we're gonna get a move on if they keep missing meetings and stuff. i also don't know how to tell them, so..."

"don't worry about it," kamo assured her with a small shake of his head. "i got an email from nanami about being someone's tutor. gonna go ask him about it in class today. but thanks anyway."

"oh, that's great!" tsumiki beamed, relieved. she had been internally struggling on how to let the junior know about the rejection. she didn't find any of those conversations easy. "who are you tutoring?"

kamo did not miss a beat when responding. "y/n."

tsumiki's brows has raised significantly.

if it had to be anyone tutored in math, she considered to herself mentally, it would be you. she remembered the notes she'd already used being passed down, not to megumi, but to you instead. she knew you needed the help, not that there was anything shameful about it at all.

it made no sense to her how she hadn't just known (the second kamo mentioned tutoring someone) that it'd be you.

"okay, well," she began, picking up her discarded bag and putting her arms through the straps casually, "that makes this conversation a whole lot easier. i was afraid i'd have to reject you and end it with 'good luck finding something though'. it's... always awkward. i hate it."

the hallway was starting to get busier as their conversation went on.

"so, i'll see you, then," she waved at him politely, making a move to walk off, but kamo had stopped her, stepping in front of her hurriedly.

she looked up at him expectantly, for she'd assumed the conversation was done. surely there was nothing else to be added...?

kamo cleared his throat, and for the first time since she'd known the blunt junior, she realised that he looked almost hesitant.

"i'm just gonna say it," he muttered, sounding as though he were talking more to himself than to her. tsumiki tilted her head at him, leaning forward to catch his low voice. "you're close with y/n."

it was a statement, not a question, she noted to herself.

she nodded regardless.

"like family," she agreed softly, unsure of where this was going.

his tentative behaviour had her taking a step back. something told her that this conversation wasn't just about extracurriculars and things to add to his college application.

but what he had said next was not something she'd been prepared for.

"do you know if she's seeing anyone?"

and then it hit her, all of it, every single conversation he had initiated with her over the past week or so.

kamo did not want to join the student council for a little something to be added to his college application. he had not gone to speak to tsumiki of all people just because she was head of the student council either, however, it had been convenient that she was head...

... for it meant that he could easily ask questions about you, a regular and constant member of the student council.

he did not care that the positions were limited, for he'd landed a different position, a better position, to get closer to you:

he was now your tutor in math.

whenever she'd do the dirty job of turning people down or rejecting them regarding the amount of members, no matter how politely she put it, they always assured her that it was fine, that they're okay with it, but none of them actually were. she could tell by the disheartened expressions on their face that would be hurriedly masked by one of indifference.

but kamo... kamo truly did not care. his mask of indifference, his facade of carelessness had not been a mask or facade at all. and at first, tsumiki had just assumed that he was just that good at hiding what he truly felt (after all, he walked around looking unbothered every second of every day, it wasn't new to him).

but that hadn't been it at all.

she'd been wrong.

it all made sense.

"tsumiki...?"

ah, she'd forgotten to respond.

she blinked up at him in realisation.

"sorry, sorry," she babbled, chuckling sheepishly. "i was just... thinking."

he did not say anything, clearly awaiting her response to his question.

"i'm not exactly sure," she answered, which wasn't a complete lie.

you weren't in a relationship with anyone, she knew that for sure. if you were, the entire family would know about it, for secrets did not exist in the zenin-gojo-fushiguro-l/n family. the last time mai had tried a relationship out, uncle ogi had gone ballistic.

but she also knew that you wouldn't have hidden it from her. it wouldn't even be possible to count on her fingers how many times you'd come to her with secrets, questions, and so on. in the humblest way possible, tsumiki knew that if you were in a relationship, she'd definitely know about it.

and yet...

there was an unspoken, knowing thing in the air that she was aware of, but neither you nor the person she had in mind had ever ventured it. she wasn't even certain that either of you were aware of it.

she herself hadn't been until just a year or two ago...

but that was the thing. it had never been mentioned, it had never been voiced, nor had it ever been implied.

she morphed her expression into one of neutrality. for the things she'd seen over the years, if a move wasn't going to be made between you and him, then it wouldn't be fair to tell kamo otherwise.

she had to be certain.

"she's not seeing anyone, that's for sure," tsumiki informed the boy before her, careful with her words, "but... i don't know if she likes anyone."

"i see," kamo nodded, looking contemplative. she couldn't blame him, her answer was rather vague. "i don't want to waste my time if —"

"yeah, i get you," she nodded, understanding. "how about i ask?"

kamo's expression had turned stony.

"no thanks —"

"not her," tsumiki interrupted him with a laugh. "the mutual friends she and i share. i won't mention you, i'll just ask if she likes anyone. if anyone likes her. you get the idea."

kamo's expression shifted as he mulled over tsumiki's offer, his sharp features reflecting an unusual mixture of calculation and apprehension.

his furrowed brows and slightly pursed lips betrayed a rare moment of hesitation, as if weighing the potential outcomes against his own guarded nature. the normally composed junior found himself caught between his instinct to handle matters independently and the opportunity to gain insight without exposing himself too soon.

but after a moment, tsumiki watched with satisfaction as his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.

he nodded subtly, deciding that tsumiki's plan made sense.

"ok," he'd said, eyes half-lidded. "thanks."

when tsumiki had parted her lips to respond, she'd noticed yuji and megumi in the far distance standing near their classroom. yuji seemed to be looking right at her, a broad grin on his face as he raised a hand to wave at her. 

"oh, she saw us!" she heard him saying. "she's saying hi!"

but megumi, she noted, who was standing beside him didn't make a single attempt to meet her gaze, choosing to ignore her entirely and go to his class.

tsumiki did not mind, even if it did surprise her slightly that he chose to choose such a cold way to respond, as megumi was always in a bad mood during school.

she raised her own hand and waved politely at the pink-haired, bubbly boy.

"megumi, she's — she's saying hi —" she heard him repeat, sounding half excited and half confused.

she watched as megumi stepped into his classroom, disappearing from her sight. yuji had, not even a moment later, followed him in, but not without loudly demanding why he was ignoring her.

tsumiki sighed and turned to kamo with a gentle smile.

"i guess that means we'll be in touch," she told him, as he took a step back, eyeing his class.

"yeah," he nodded, beginning to walk away. "thanks again."

tsumiki lingered for a moment, her gaze following kamo as he turned the corner and disappeared into his classroom.

the faintest trace of a smirk played on her lips as she adjusted the strap of her bag and headed towards her own class. of all the ways she had expected the day to unfold, becoming a covert matchmaker wasn't one of them, and she couldn't help but chuckle softly to herself, amused by the unexpected turn of events, and curious about what might come next.

the rest of the year was certainly going to be interesting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

"how is that gonna help us survive?"

"erm... it's gonna — we're gonna — it's gonna mean we can still have fun!"

megumi glared down at your bindle.

the two of you had made it a safe distance away from your houses — or ex-houses, rather, since you had officially decided that you were going to run away.

after an unsuccessful attempt at helping your mom with cleaning the kitchen counters while she was gone, leaving foamed up hand soap and water-drenched tissue pieces everywhere, the adults had all gathered round and laughed at the two of you, mocking your labour and making inside jokes as thought you were not present in the room with them.

it was humiliating.

so humiliating to the point where megumi had come up with the idea to run away together. if your family couldn't appreciate your efforts and instead decide to ring up the extended family to laugh about you, perhaps they'd be happy with never seeing you again.

that'll show them.

so the two of you had separated to your respective rooms — now ex-rooms — to pack the necessities.

and there they were, laid out on the concrete ground before you.

you had gone first, your spotted pink cloth on the side of the road as you crouched down and picked up your disney doll, sleeping beauty, a small blanket for herthat had been placed next to your toothbrush, and lelli kelly shimmery lipgloss and eyeshadow.

megumi was beyond unimpressed.

"and you didn't bring toothpaste," he reminded you with a scowl.

you glanced at him, wide eyed in petrification. amidst your anger towards the adults, you had completely forgotten to pack the toothpaste.

megumi glared at you and began undoing his own bindle, the spotted red cloth of his carefully laid out on the crosswalk, presenting items you hadn't even considered packing: toothpaste, his toothbrush, two sandwiches wrapped in tin foil, and a small first aid kit.

"it's fine," he assured you, pointing at his items. "i have some here."

you rubbed your forehead with your arm in relief.

"phew!" you sighed, using your other hand to hold your doll close to your chest. "that was close."

"how is that supposed to cover us?" megumi demanded, staring at the little blanket you'd packed for your doll.

you raised your brows at him.

"like — like on — on our feet! like this megumi, look!" you told him, picking up the little blanket and comparing it to your feet. you supposed he had a point, but you wanted to be right.

he gave you a sharp look, very clearly unimpressed with your comparison.

"it's not gonna cover our knees," he stated angrily, glowering at you as though you'd committed a heinous crime before him.

you frowned, your lips in a pout. his tone was rude and you didn't appreciate it.

"well now you're just — you're just making me want to keep on walking away from you, megumi."

"no, don't."

"okay."

megumi looked out into the distance, his eyes narrowed as he shielded his gaze from the sun, his small hand hovering above his furrowed, tense brows. he turned back to you with a frown.

"we're gonna keep walking after a break," he informed you, taking a seat on the crosswalk and scratching his bare knee. it was a hot day, the summer heat had made it so that in the morning, before either of you knew you'd run away together, you had worn clothes fit for the day.

megumi was in his navy shorts and a plain white shirt, meanwhile you were in your yellow sundress and floral sandals.

not fit for the night, according to your grumpy friend.

you joined him on the crosswalk, the hard of the ground rubbing against your bottom, making you shift in discomfort. if you weren't on the run, you would have been sitting on your bed... your ex-bed, which had been so much more comfortable.

"we do a good thing and they embarrass us," megumi grumbled, kicking a stone and watching it tumble dramatically. "they're gonna regret it now."

"yeah," you agreed, stroking your doll's hair.

you realised you had also forgotten to pack her mini hairbrush.

it was too late to do anything about it now.

the two of you had silently begun remaking your bindles again. megumi had informed you that the sandwiches would be used only for when you were completely starving as there wasn't enough food to last you for the rest of the day. he had blamed you for packing 'unnecessary things', to which you had responded heatedly with.

once your bindles were remade, the two of you held your sticks over your shoulders and stared down at your houses.

mrs daphne would be glad you were gone, but you liked to picture her upset at hearing that you were missing.

your father, who was currently on a trip in australia, would be beyond distressed about your disappearance. you imagined him getting that call from your mom, her usually careless demeanour missing (just like you) crying into the phone, telling him the last time she'd seen you...

which just so happened to be when the family had been mocking the two of you.

"my mommy is — she's gonna regret it, too," you mumbled, a lump in your throat as you pictured the next scene in your head: megumi's mom looking for him, and then realising you were gone, too.

the look of despair on her face. the realisation that the last thing she had said to you were impolite, unlike her usual behaviour...

"and — and they'll think of — they'll think what they said to us... before we..." you continued, the lump in your throat making it harder for you to speak.

when you glanced at megumi, you realised how he was looking the same. both your eyes, despite the fact that you were hiding it from each other, were slowly filling themselves up with salty water.

megumi cleared his throat. you knew it wouldn't help because you tried that too.

he continued anyway:

"and when they find our dead bodies... they're... gonna cry at our funeral..."

you pictured your gravestones, his next to yours, a single flower placed on top of the soil on his, several bouquets on yours.

it made your eyes sting and burn even more.

toji would stand by your gravestone, silently staring down at it in deep remorse. he'd think about the times he had never referred to you with your name — always the devil child, never y/n.

he'd say your name then, and burst into tears when he realises that you'd never hear it...

because you were dead.

"your — your — your dad," you added, throat burning as you held back your tears, "he's gonna wish... he said... s-sorry... t-to... me..."

megumi cleared his throat again. you did not follow suit this time, knowing quite well how useless it was.

the two of you were trying your hardest to avoid looking at each other, neither of you wanting to show that you were crying, but both of you well aware of the fact that you were.

"uncle ogi is gonna... tell... the zenins in japan... about me... dying," megumi added carefully, "in starvation... or... murder... if someone kidnaps us..."

your bottom lip wobbled at the thought. you didn't want to be kidnapped. you didn't want to die. you didn't want a funeral this early.

and yet, you did not make the choice of going back. you wouldn't make that choice. otherwise, the adults would never learn their lesson. this was necessary. they needed to know how rude they were to the two of you for trying to be helpful and do some good around the house.

"and s-satoru's gonna... when he used to," you started again, but the lump in your throat was seriously making it difficult for you to speak, "when he used to... make fun of... my english... when — when — whenever i spoke..."

your conversation was abruptly cut off as a distant, frantic voice echoed through the air.

both you and megumi froze, your small feet rooted to the ground, as the sound of your names being called reached you.

the voices overlapped, desperate and searching, growing louder with every passing second. you turned to megumi, your wide eyes meeting his, and though neither of you spoke, the unspoken question hung between you: should you keep going?

"Y/N?!"

"MEGUMI?!"

"MEGUMI AND Y/N —"

the two of you stood behind the fence of one of your neighbours' house, watching as your guardians separated and began searching the area for you.

"they're looking for us," you commented, the sting in your eyes lessening as you watched your mom run in the other direction.

"yeah, good," megumi responded, sounding annoyed. "let's go."

just as the two of you were about to spin on your heels and bolt in the other direction, you found yourselves face-to-face with the last person you wanted to see: satoru gojo stood before you, his sunglasses slightly tilted down his nose and a curious expression plastered over his face.

you hadn't even paid attention to the fact that megumi's mom was also by his side, her expression one of complete fury.

for a moment, none of you spoke.

and when your eyes had locked onto that dreaded camera that hung around his neck, already raised and pointed at you, that infuriatingly carefree grin returned across his face.

"gotcha!" he chirped, snapping pictures from every possible angle — close-ups of your scowls, wide shots of your shoes, even a dramatic low angle of your crossed arms.

and all you could do was stand there, your grumpy faces growing darker with each shutter click, a silent agreement passing between you that this moment would haunt the both of you forever.

all because of satoru and that stupid camera of his.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

next chapter :)

notes: so some of u were right, and then backtracked (muahahaha). my ao3 lot were extremely suspicious and i couldn't trick them unfortunately :/ so... yeah. anyway, thoughts? predictions? what do we think?

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @momoewn @polarbvnny @lailuv21 @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @laughingfcx @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy @jamypam @thelost-child

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

[fiftyfiftyfinchy]

okay I have a specific request — Ethan’s sister dating george???? I just feel like ethan would be a really fun but protective brother.

I'm sorry this took me so long to put together, my job has me in a chokehold this week! anyway I hope you like it :))

I’m not sure if I’m here for the free craft services or for the existential bliss of standing next to George Clarke. My brother—Ethan, Behzinga to the world—thinks I’m just bored. He thinks I’m tagging along for some wholesome family bonding or maybe to post behind-the-scenes TikToks featuring him and his goofy friends. He has no clue that what I really want is to watch George from every possible angle until I can’t breathe.  George and I are used to this—little side glances, inside jokes, a teasing tap on the shoulder that feels dangerously electric. Nothing official, but enough to make my chest tighten in anticipation every time we land on the same shoot.

I claim a spot near the plastic folding chairs—flimsy thrones for YouTube royalty—and pretend I’m not devouring George with my eyes. I sip water I don’t need just to have something to do with my mouth. At any moment, I’m convinced I might say something desperate, like “Can I live inside your ribcage?” which is not generally acceptable small talk. But the heat in my spine is so intense that my entire body is basically a tuning fork for desire.

George glances in my direction and a hush slides over me like a weird spiritual wave, but then I remind myself: girl, you are on a set full of cameras. You can't be caught thirsting over one of your brother's best mates. Everyone here sees everything. Except Ethan, who’s too busy ignoring me for the sake of “content” to notice the entire soap opera I’m staging in my head. Thank God for that.

Eventually, the filming starts—some big wheel of dares. It’s silly. It’s comedic gold. I laugh at appropriate intervals, feeling the headache of a forced grin. My face is so stuck in performative cheer that I worry I’ll never be able to frown again. But every so often, George’s eyes drift my way. Then it doesn’t feel forced at all; it feels like someone just pressed an espresso shot of lust into my bloodstream.

I imagine the corners of my mouth still have hints of a smirk when Ethan glances over, eyes full of big-brother protectiveness. Great. His “friendly, easygoing vibe” is over. I can’t help but roll my eyes in a cosmic sense of sibling dread. Because Ethan is the barrier between me and the arms I want to fling myself into. He’s the moat around the castle. He’s the guard dog who barks at everything.

The video ends. Confetti of half-laughter, half-exhaustion litters the air. I hover near the edge of the set, my phone clenched in a death grip. Across the room, George sets down a water bottle. I decide I need to do something dramatic, or I’ll spontaneously combust.

I walk over casually—at least I hope it looks casual, like I’m in total control of my heartbeat. “You did great,” I say, trying to sound breezy instead of delirious. George smiles his classic, impossibly warm smile.

“Fancy seeing you here,” George says, stepping to me with that crooked grin. There's something boyish in the way he leans in, like we share a secret the rest of the room couldn’t possibly understand.

“Right?” I laugh, a little breathless. “Almost like we planned it.” We’ve run this dance so many times, bantering on set, one-upping each other with witty remarks, smiling in ways that promise everything and nothing. But it still feels new—a micro-thrill every time he tosses me that look.

He brushes an imaginary speck of dust off my sleeve, an excuse to close the gap between us. “Oh, I definitely planned it,” he teases, voice low.

Then I hear Ethan’s voice: “Oi! What’s going on over here?” My brother, a sentinel, standing with arms crossed like his biceps can ward off romance. 

“Nothing,” I say. “Just being friendly to your guest, Ethan.” I infuse his name with a sweet venom. 

Ethan narrows his eyes but doesn’t push it. He stalks away—still suspicious— probably to the snack table where the rest of the guys are rehashing the best jokes of the shoot. 

George leans in, breath brushing the shell of my ear. “Text me when you’re free, yeah?”

My chest throbs with that old, familiar longing. “I will,” I whisper, feeling the ghost of his presence on my skin long after he’s stepped back. We share this conspiratorial nod, like two secret agents swapping contraband info.

He steps away and salutes me in a mockingly polite way, turning to follow Ethan and the guys. And I’m left there, fidgeting like some starry-eyed fool, full of swirling fantasies about how our next off-camera rendezvous might go. Maybe it’s crazy to think we can keep up this flirtation without someone catching on—especially my brother—but for now, it’s perfect: the hush of a secret too sweet to keep bottled up forever.

[fuctacles]

can i have some more wereshifter please?? 🥺 I love that AU so much 🥺

Absolutely! And tysm! You're gonna like this one. I hope I think.

<< 7 | 0 | 9 >>

Steve starts jotting things down and the tension from his body quickly melts away, and he leans more comfortably into Eddie's side. Now that he's not worried that any movement might startle his friend, Eddie reaches for the coffee with his free hand. Soon, Steve does the same, and when he sits back, he shimmies his shoulder back under Eddie's arm, and tucks his legs up onto the couch. 

It's really hard not to chuckle into his coffee, but Steve doesn't seem to either notice or care about his own movements and Eddie's reaction. Feeling emboldened, he points out that paper towels will be better than napkins, while sliding his hand down Steve's shoulder.

It's not dissimilar from how he'd pet the dog while watching TV. Up and down, with a gentle drag of his nails.

If he thought Steve was relaxed before, now he might be turning into goop. With a quiet, huffed out sigh, he liquifies against his side. Eddie presses his lips together, but can't stop the amused puffs of air that come out of his nose.

"Shut up," Steve murmurs while crossing out 'straws' from his list. "It's nice."

"Good," Eddie smiles, gently squeezing his shoulder. He feels warm inside knowing Steve's being honest. With his friend and himself, most importantly. He resumes his scratching with more purpose.

Steve twitches under his arm.

He looks down, but the man is laser-focused on the list, now on the snack section. But the tips of his ears are crimson red. Not averting his gaze, Eddie scratches down his arm the same way he'd do along a dog's spine. Steve's foot moves. Once, twice, and while he keeps scratching with more purpose, it starts tapping against the couch. Steve stops writing.

"No way," Eddie grins in delight at his discovery. 

"Eddie, come on..." The embarrassment is squeezing his throat, so Eddie presses him closer, hoping to provide some comfort.

"Uh, no," he protests. "This is golden. Is this what you were so scared of when you ran away? When you told me about the dog allergy?" He doesn't let go, scratching with ferocity like he would an overjoyed dog. Which, in a way, Steve is. 

"Stevie, man. Sweetheart," he coos. "Just let go."

So Steve does. 

The pen falls out of his grip and he leans against Eddie with a sigh, almost cuddled against his chest. His leg spasms while Eddie scratches him along his arm and the side of his back that Steve turned up to him. Eventually, whatever itch he had that needed relief gets scratched enough to satisfy him. Eddie flattens his palm against his arm and Steve sighs into his chest. He's now fully sprawled in his lap and breathing deeply. Eddie cradles him close. 

"See? It's all fine. Is it weird? Probably, but we fought interdimensional monsters, so. Just embrace it okay?"

Steve chuckles against his skin. 

"Okay," he agrees softly. Eddie scratches his head for good behaviour. 

"Great. Now up, I gotta pee."

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 (if i missed anyone lmk)

[ssahotchnerr]

girldad!aaron and reader with a daughter that’s got an imaginary friend and they always make sure to save a seat for it and talk to them and just include her imaginary friend.

imaginary

STOP SO CUTE cw; girl!dad aaron, fem!reader, mentions of food, domestic fluff <3

ever since aaron put on sesame street one saturday morning, elmo has been a frequent guest in the household. when he wasn't, according to your daughter, "on tv doing his job", elmo was joining her for tea parties, playing dress up, or anything else her creative, young mind could come up with.

at dinner, the sound of the chair buffing against the floor grabbed aaron's focus - she had, with all the strength she could muster up, pulled back the spare chair for her new friend to sit at, to join the family. aaron took that as a sign to indulge her, taking a small plate and filling it with the littlest amount of spaghetti, and setting it at elmo's 'spot'.

"daddy, can elmo sleepover?" your daughter asked, once her pjs were on and bedtime had approached.

"sure sweet pea," aaron didn't skip a beat, pulling back her duvet and getting her sheets prepped for bed. "but i don't want to hear the two of you up all night, deal?"

"deal!" she trailed across the room to her closet, swinging it open and perching up onto her tippy toes, "elmo needs my sleeping bag."

aaron easily grabbed it off the top shelf, holding it snug under his arm before gazing down at her.

"you better go show elmo how to brush his teeth. i don't need his dentist calling me with a cavity bill." aaron feigned his pensive look, and she very quickly ran out, yelling behind at elmo to 'hurry!'

when you returned with your daughter (and elmo) this time, aaron had already set the sleeping bag next to her bed. the top layer was pulled back, waiting. he even placed a small, stuffed bear on elmo's pillow.

"into bed you go," you hoisted her up, getting her tucked in and situated comfortably, resting her own favorite, stuffed bunny next to her.

aaron joined you after turning on her nightlight, tapping your hip once affectionally. "remember what i said."

"me and elmo go to sleep."

"that's right." you gave her a soft smile, placing a kiss on the top of her head, "goodnight, sweet dreams."

"now say goodnight to elmo daddy." your little girl's eyes fell into an almost harsh glare, after aaron kissed her forehead gently as well. she sat up against her pillow, her dark brown curls spanning across it.

aaron huffed a quiet laugh, soft enough for your ears only. "goodnight elmo."