#and all the while serving absolute looks - im here for this drama and angst

[divineandmajesticinone]

LET FREE THE CURSE OF TAEKWONDO I EP. 04 Are you okay? No, I'm not.

[watevermelon]

Fate | Kageyama Tobio x Reader (One-shot)

✧ Summary: For years you watched Kageyama grow - from his time as king of Kitagawa Daiichi to the seemingly aloof setter on Karasuno. Your lives were a set of near misses; distant friends, but never getting any closer. You figured that once you entered Shiratorizawa High that it would be the end of your friendship. Thankfully, it was only the beginning.

➳ Tags: Slight Oikawa x Reader; Fluff with very minimal angst; Reader transfers from Seijoh to Shiratoriazawa so there’s drama; I love Oikawa but oooF this is not a good fic of him ➳ A/N: Captain-Sama! In the groupchat is the username for the female captain of Shiratorizawa and do you know da wae is the reader’s lmao

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As much as Oikawa complained about him, you understood Kageyama Tobio to a certain extent.

You spotted the setter during your shared time at Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High, him being one year your junior. There was no doubt the genius and pure talent that was coursing through his veins - he was surely going to make whichever high-school he attended proud.

You had the same position as him on the women's volleyball team and served as vice-captain in your second-year, alongside a third-year who held their head just as high.

There was nothing more scary than the thought of looming talent, creeping up on you until you were rendered absolute. Oikawa, you were sure, had felt that since the moment Kageyama was placed as an alternate setter during his first-year. It was a daunting feeling, to work on something at all hours of the day and know that there was someone who could easily render it all worthless.

But that did not mean it was fair to treat the poor first-year that way.

Iwaizumi was the senpai Kageyama deserved, but the blueberry held a strange respect for the setter two years his senior. No matter how much of a jerk Oikawa proved to be, through his biting words or taunting nature to the other setter, that did not change how amazing of an all-around player Oikawa was. And that made Kageyama respect him even more.

You respected Kageyama's genius, even helping him personally with his jump-serves, but there was no doubt that he heavily relied on Oikawa's example.

You wondered how long that would last.

Oikawa progressed to Aobajōsai High School at the end of the year. And, to everyone's surprise and obvious disapproval, you did not advance to the white-and-blue signature colors of the school that most Kitagawa Daiichi students went to.

The vice-captain and later full captain of the women’s Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High volleyball team was not going to Aobajōsai.

You would be branded a traitor by the lesser students, people who served as your other teammates that you were not close to. But your friends around you knew just who much you worked hard and aspired to have this academic achievement. You, in the depths of your hearth, admitted that you wanted to be on a team that almost guaranteed victory, with teammates who you could conduct and control the game with.

Unlike what many had hoped, you were going to Shiratorizawa Academy.

Your grades were well above average, actually landing you in the top five in your class among your entire graduating year. What stood you out among the endless crowds of talented setters, beyond your unending potential, was your already rounded ability as an aggressive server. Your jump-serves were better than the other first years in your newly minted class (an ability that came as a perk of being a certain Oikawa Tōru's friend).

Given both an academic and sports scholarship, you flashed a blinding smile at your junior high graduation, parents and friends clapping at your achievements.

You felt blessed to have such supportive parents, ones who, despite their busy work schedules, still attempted to attend your major volleyball games. And had vocally voiced to you their approval of your wanting to go to Shiratorizawa, offering to pay for it out of pocket if you had not received a scholarship.

You could not ask for better parents than these.

Shiratorizawa Academy handed you a new ass - giving an entirely new meaning to practice and torture. 

You accepted the position as alternate to the regular setter with a smile, happy to just be on the bench and not cheering from the stands. If anything, the first few months of Shiratorizawa showed you that you had so much more to learn.

But you were eager for the challenge.

A particular practice match with the women's team from Itachiyama Academy solidified your need for much more training. You wanted to be a reliable pillar to the team, for whatever role you needed to sub into for the game. Whether it be just as a pinch server or when the regular setter was sick, you wanted to demonstrate the winning attitude that came with being a student to a school of absolute victors.

You spent your first-year training nonstop, your fellow first-year students surprised at your youthful vigor and unending stamina. But you had to prove yourself better than reliable, that you were going to uphold the Shiratorizawa standard for setters and more if you wanted to be a regular.

You related to Shirabu and Kawanishi, fellow students in your year who were keen on becoming regulars to the men’s volleyball team. Both you and Shirabu had not attended Shiratorizawa Junior Academy, instead coming from separate junior high's that were considered lesser. Because of this, you two came in ‘brand-new’ with no friends or experience with the school personally. Shirabu grew to have an obvious close relationship with Kawanishi, but you found yourself gravitating toward them every once in a while, as well.

The rivalry between your school and Seijō took the back-burner during your training. You would see some of your previous friends when there were practice matches between your schools and you made an effort to text and even hang with some of them if given the time, but volleyball man. 

It was hard to manage your academic workload alongside giving more than one-hundred percent in your sport.

When the Interhigh-Preliminaries rolled around, you watched from the stands as second-year Oikawa Tōru had already taken the helm as vice-captain and regular setter of the Aobajōsai volleyball team. You were silently proud of your brunet senpai, despite how gaudy and annoying he could be, there was no denying Oikawa’s obvious skill and love for the sport.

The rivalry between specifically Ushijima and your previous senpai ran bone-deep and it was easily palpable to everyone watching the match, even more so to you, who sat at least a hundred feet away but knew both young men personally now.

After the game, you went down and put a comforting hand on Oikawa's shoulder, who gave a small grimace at the motion before fully standing to look at you. It was easy to morph your appearance and identity with the other students adorned with purple tracksuits, (since not matter who, they all annoyed the hell out of him) but Oikawa remembered your face personally from Kitagawa Daiichi.

The two of you were not especially close during junior high, but definitely friends that would often converse on a daily basis. Since you were the vice-captain of the women's team while Oikawa was captain of his, you often shared your personal woes and experiences. 

You even had a shared extra-curricular class in some science-related subject (you knew he was a closeted nerd, no matter how much he denied it). He was definitely a friend of yours, but you never truly knew what was going on in that head of his.

Oikawa’s eyes widened at recognizing your face, before dropping down the bold font of your school's name at the front of your jacket.

"And here I was, wondering if you had moved or died." Oikawa started with a small smirk, "This is much worse."

You lightly punched at his shoulder and then sighed, "Believe it or not, even though you're such a nuisance, I missed you."

Oikawa smiled, but then held a hand over his heart in feigned offense. "Nuisance?"

"I missed you, big oof." You put a loose arm under his and wrapped it around his middle in a side-hug, surprising the brunet who quickly returned the action. "I'm proud of how far you've come.

He rolled his eyes and attempted to pull away, "I don't need you to baby me."

"I won't." You stated in a firm voice, "But I do know you will continue to do whatever it takes to destroy my school."

Oikawa looked at you, fully peered at your countenance as he soaked in your words, before nodding in affirmation. You shared more words of conversation, catching up between friends who had not seen each other in a whole year, before he returned back to his team.

Like the previous Seijō captain, you were relentless in your training during your first-year. You wanted nothing more than to be the regular setter on your team. It was not enough being the sub, even as a first-year, you wanted to prove your abilities on the center-court in an official game.

The regular setter was a third-year, with graduation looming around the corner. Both you and your second-year counterpart were eyeing the position with eager eyes, but your work ethic did not fail you.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

07:57   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )             welcome aboard (L/N)!!

07:57   From: Captain-Sama!             congrats (L/N)!

07:57  From: do you know da wae            aw thanks! But it wasn’t without the help of the team (✿ ♥‿♥)

07:57  From: do you know da wae            also congrats to shirabu and kawanishi!

07:58   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )             i ship it

07:58   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            thank you and you too

07:58   From: Captain-Sama!             but there’s three of them

07:58   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            thanks b + you 2

07:58   From: the most tender Salami             ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

07:58   From: the most tender Salami             Also yah congrats but im watching you

There was no question that every eye of both the men’s and women’s volleyball teams were now scanning the shared groupchat with narrowed eyes. The newly formed regular positions were just released this morning and everyone was eagerly anticipating to see their names announced.

You were thankful that the women’s captain was so friendly, offering congratulations for your achievement, unlike many other envious third-years who were now sitting on the bench.

You were pronounced as the regular setter in your second-year, your older senpai inwardly sneering at the pronouncement. Nothing was set in stone and no player was ever safe in their position, (unless of course you were Ushijima Wakatoshi), but your older teammate knew better than to waver in their own training.

Which is why you were not personally offended when the kind-hearted, Semi Eita, did not add to the numerous amounts of congrats to you and the two other second-year boys. You were grouped together with Shirabu and Kawanishi, newly minted second-years now inaugurated into regular positions on a renowned team. There was no doubt that there was a hint of envy and competition within Shiratorizawa now.

07:59   From: Captain-Sama!             don’t be rude salami this is a congrats thread

07:58   From: Ushiwaka-sama             You will all surely be assets to our team

7:58     From: do you know da wae             Thank you!! ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

08:00   From: Coconut-head            congrats to all the second-years! 

08:00   From: Coconut-head             ໒( ♥ ◡ ♥ )७

You saw the multiple indicators that someone was typing, suddenly come to a complete stop. 

Goshiki Tsutomu was the rare case of a student abounding with natural talent and enthusiasm. Yes, there were tons of students blessed with a general aptitude for volleyball. But what set him apart was his humble attitude and willing manner to learn and keep being molded. He was growing to be the product of all his older teammates, since he had no previous sense of style to retain.

Goshiki Tsutomu would surely grow to be Shiratorizawa’s ace. 

But right now, he was an enthusiastic first-year trying to overcome the overwhelming shadow of Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It undoubtedly set off the tempers of multiple (now) third-years. You even felt the crawl of envy at the young man. You were only granted a regular spot in your second-year. And yet this first-year had already overcome your personal feat. You knew, in the more comprehensive parts of your mind, that Goshiki earned his role and there was no excusing your petty behavior.

So, with a deep sigh, your fingers swiped across the keyboard.

08:05   From: do you know da wae             Congrats to you too, Goshiki-kun! (♥‿ ♥ ) ~

08:00   From: Coconut-head            thank you senpai!!

The captain of the women’s team, along with Yamagata and Ushijima, added in their own forms of congratulations to the growing thread on the chat. But there was no doubt that the atmosphere was suddenly even more tense with the addition of Goshiki’s words. You could not blame anyone; you knew first-hand how much you worked and literally slaved for your position on the starting block.

Every regular on the team worked their way to their position – that was a fact no one could ignore.

But they had to learn to live with it.

You spent most of your time getting integrated with your fellow teammates, thoughts of Kitagawa Daiichi taking a much further backburner than before. You heard the distant yet familiar names of Oikawa and Iwaizumi often make their way into conversation. There was no doubt that you loved your friends, but they were your rivals now. 

And you had no hesitation in recounting their abilities and weaknesses when both Reon and the infamous Guess Monster had asked you.

It also helped that you were once the captain of the women’s team and knew them better than anyone had before. Which also helped you exploit their weakness – another additive that the coach had taken to account when putting you on the starting block.

But there was another label that, in particular, stood out as you approached your second Interhigh-Preliminary as a student of Shiratorizawa.

Freak quick duo.

You were familiar with the several different nicknames that promulgated the Miyagi volleyball scene – great king, guess monster, little giant, super volleyball idiot (but that was more of an inner joke between Shiratorizawa students).

It was strange to you, that Kageyama had not yet made an appearance at Shiratorizawa Academy. He surely had the volleyball forte and physical ability to be the most skilled setter in the Prefecture, but you chalked it up to his grades or brisk personality that may have weighed him down.

But when Kageyama was not even present for the practice match between Seijō and your own school, it made you wonder if he had dropped off the face of the planet. For students who were seriously pursuing their sport, it was not a surprise for them to travel abroad to train. But you doubted Kageyama of all people would do so, his English was terrible.

Usually students from your junior high would immediately accept the invitation to Aobajōsai, a private school seconded only by Shiratorizawa. The few unique instances against this was yourself, but there was no sight of Kageyama at your school. 

So where on earth was he?

Both of Seijō’s teams, men’s and women’s, were coming for the match and the annual start of their explosive rivalry. It was strange for you, to now experience both sides of the Oikawa and Ushijima relationship. You had been on Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s side not too long ago, seeing Ushijima’s brute words that you had taken, at the time, as sarcastic and extremely biting. 

It was funny how now, knowing Ushijima personally, you knew the poor spiker only had volleyball in his heart and mind – oblivious to how offensive his words could really be.

09:34   From: the most tender Salami           enemy spotted Attached: brunet.jpg, ihatethisguy.jpg

09:34   From: Ushiwaka-sama           He should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa

09:34   From: the most tender Salami           lmao he can’t hear you waka-kun

09:34   From: Ushiwaka-sama           That does not make it any less true

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           Wait

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           WAIT

09:35   From: the most tender Salami           ????

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           wait Attached: screenshot.jpg

09:35   From: the most tender Salami           WHAT

09:36  From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           That’s literally just a zoomed in version

09:36   From: the most tender Salami           um that’s SHIRATORIZAWA’S (F/N) with the enemy

09:36   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            I mean she did go to Kitagawa Daiichi

09:36   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            wait she’s Oikawa’s student ???

09:37   From: Captain-Sama!            and now it all makes sense

09:37   From: Ushiwaka-sama            even his student has the good sense in coming to Shiratorizawa

09:37   From: the most tender Salami               LMAO you have no chill

09:37   From: Ushiwaka-sama            it’s almost summer, why would I be cold?

09:37   From: Captain-Sama!               the top 3 ace in the entire country, ladies and gentlemen

You opened the chat after the last message from your captain. By then, you had already greeted the visiting teams from Aobajōsai and were leading them to the gyms that were being used to the practice matches. It was strange, seeing the friends that you had spent more than three years with, wearing rival colors to your own.

“I’ll never get used to seeing Shiratorizawa-clad you, (F/N).” One of your old close friends commented, pointing at your purple tracksuit.

“Honestly, me too.” You admitted, looking up toward her before going back to your phone. You briefly showed the last few texts to Oikawa himself, who rolled his eyes at Ushijima’s words.

There was always something strange about Ushijima when it came to the Aobajōsai setter. It was mixture of respect and something, that always motivated Ushijima to voice his desire for Oikawa to go to Shiratorizawa. He had explained on one occasion that Oikawa was a setter unlike any in the prefecture, including his current team as well.

Oikawa was the type of setter who could bring out the absolute best of anyone, orchestrate his team to their full one-hundred percent, molding them toward his personal interest and control of the game.

And as a setter yourself, you knew that despite his gaudy style, Oikawa was well above the rest.

Ushijima often voiced that Oikawa deserved a team that would help him grow, rather than a team that require him to win – a team he had to drag by his fingertips.

You had explained to Oikawa once before how Ushijima explained it to you, of course with better words and ones that the brunet would less likely take offense to, but the setter simply scowled and muttered that Waka was still an asshole anyway. When you had told Ushijima about the bonds that Oikawa upheld, Ushijima simply narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

It was strange, their relationship. The feelings seemed to run bone-deep, neither male listening to the other side or even simple reason. But you learned not to question it anymore. It went against logic.

You flipped your phone back open to the groupchat and typed.

09:38   From: do you know da wae             I wasn’t his student, I was his babysitter

You typed in, Oikawa looking over your shoulder as you texted, immediately reaching over you to grab your phone the moment he had realized what you conveyed. You could almost feel the loud laughter of Tendou as he bellowed out at your text.

“Why must you taunt me like this (L/N)-chan?” Oikawa pouted, crossing his arms and looking away from you. Iwaizumi had a small smile when you showed him your words, Makki and Mattsun laughing in response since the true personality of the intimidating setter was coming to light to the other Shiratorizawa students.

“It’s time everyone learns the truth.” You teased, rubbing your shoulder against Oikawa’s as he continued to pout. There was no one quite like Oikawa, you admitted inwardly but never to the face of the already proud setter.

They unloaded their things into the visiting school’s locker room and when you returned they had already shook hands and were warming up before the start of the practice match. You tilted your head at the line-up, now a visual confirmation that Kageyama was nowhere in sight.

“Who are you cheering for, (F/N)?” Tendou asked you with a pointed finger in your direction.

You simply rolled your eyes, “Myself. I have my own game in an hour.”

It was to no one’s surprise that your school had dominated both matches, for both the men’s and women’s team. You spied the score-board when you looked over to the men’s match: 25-22 and 27-25. The gaps were not huge and it was obvious that the teams were close in ability, but Aobajōsai had yet to win a single match from your school in three straight years.

You had an unfair advantage of already being closely acquainted with many of Seijō volleyball players – you were once their captain and had to help them individually with their own routines. To your captain’s glee and the third-years’ utter dismay, you proved yourself to be the integral cog that led to the team’s victory – your position as a regular was obviously here to stay.

There was no denying the evident vigor in Oikawa’s eyes after the match, even more so since he had personally requested from you the digital recording of his practice match. An exchange of two orders of milk bread from the bakery across Aobajōsai and you had emailed the brunet his request.

You offered to walk the Seijō students to their bus, since you had a personal question in mind. “Did Kageyama move or something?” You asked toward Oikawa, who scowled in response.

“He went to Karasuno High.” Iwaizumi answered instead, elbowing the brunet for his rude behavior.

“Why do you care so much, (L/N)-chan?” Oikawa taunted, “You already have me and I’m the best setter you need.”

You rolled your eyes along with Makki, but decided to say nothing after his words.

Karasuno… 

You remembered the name of the school distantly. It was still within the prefecture, but you do not recall the school being particularly outstanding when it came to volleyball or any sport for that matter. The school was not anywhere near the list of high-schools you had applied to when you were in junior high, so why would Kageyama, who had unending potential, go somewhere else?

You had voiced this outwardly and even asked if there was an offer from Seijō to Kageyama.

Makki shrugged his shoulders, but the younger student behind him, one that you did not recognize, visibly tensed and the frown on his face grew. He said nothing to you, but it was obvious that Kageyama’s name alone had an effect on the first-years.

Ushijima was already standing at the buses; perfect posture and his hands were naturally down by his sides. You could tell the Seijō students were ready to fight, tensing immediately at the sight of your fellow schoolmate, Oikawa and Iwaizumi moving to stand at the very front of their group. You fought down the urge to call Tendou or Semi, hoping that the situation would not progress further and requiring the help of the other third-years.

“Let today be a testament, Oikawa. It’s never too late for you to come to Shiratorizawa.” He uttered before walking away, right through the center of the group and back to the school grounds.

You spotted Oikawa’s tense smirk, one that he was attempting to use to hide his obvious frown. Iwaizumi was not hiding his scowl and Mattsun looked ready to fight.

You put your hands up, unsure what to say. “I don’t get it. He’s only ever like this with you guys.”

“Don’t defend him, (F/N).” One of your old friends on the female team stated, “You’re one of Ushiwaka’s friends now, you wouldn’t understand how it’s like to be on the losing side anymore.”

You bit your lip but said nothing, there was no reasoning with them when the snide venom from their defeat was still a fresh wound in their minds. You were better off not trying to say anything to them, but with Oikawa’s scowl only increasing you knew you had to do something.

Oikawa kept his eyes trained on Ushijima’s retreating back, before motioning for the younger students to load up their things into the bus, giving his own pack to someone else.

“Oikawa-senpai, please don’t let him get to you.” You put your hands on his chest, seeing the tight fists at the brunet’s sides. “Ushijima doesn’t mean it in a douchey-way, he just comes off like that by accident.”

The brunet took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, before putting his hands on your shoulders and looking you full-on with his piercing hazel eyes.

“Take that Waka! (L/N) still views me as her senpai – her ability hand-picked and trained by me.” Oikawa stated with enthusiasm as he looked over your shoulder and toward the school. Your smile was now a straight-line, there really was no end to their rivalry, you inwardly mused.

You jabbed your elbow into his stomach, making Oikawa release his hold on you. He groaned and bent-down, low enough for you to lightly pat the top of his head and tell him that you looked forward to the milk bread that he owed you.

He countered, saying that you really could not resist seeing your senpai again, and was about to continue if not for the extremely fast volleyball setting loose right on the brunet’s head.

You flashed a quick thumbs-up toward Iwaizumi then waved goodbye. Walking back toward the dorms, you were ready to shower and take a nap after a day like this.

It was strange that two schools that held such an intense rivalry would often hold practice matches between one another. You chalked it up to Seijō’s innate ability to get better as the duration of a match continued, their batch of third-years in particular were good at planning and strategizing on the fly during official matches. It only made sense that they would want to play against the top school even more often.

Your first official Interhigh-Preliminaries as a regular and you watched the competition with guarded interest. You saw the name Karasuno on the first-day, surprised that the school Kageyama had chosen was in the bottom bracket. The women’s team were obviously subpar in terms of volleyball, incapable of even stopping the average serve from their opponents. You frowned, neither team on the court would prove to be a worthy challenger to Shiratorizawa, so you simply walked away from the match.

Maybe his test scores were really bad, you inwardly joked.

Shiratorizawa was exempt from the first few days of matches, giving everyone ample time to watch and gauge their future rivals.

You decided against watching the match of Karasuno vs Dateko, hearing that the Iron Wall had crushed the team only a few months prior. Rather, you chose to watch a match between Johzenji and another, since you wanted to watch for yourself the extremely aggressive style that had you wondering just what was going on inside their heads.

But when a crowd had exclaimed in surprise over by Karasuno’s court, you chose to maybe just walk over and see what the fuss was about.

You took a seat farther from the rest, hearing distantly of a freak quick that not even the school who specialized in read-blocking could keep up with. You knew, first-hand, how fast and aggressive Kageyama was with his setting, it could be a surprise to everyone’s who was seeing it. Even the spikers on his own team in junior high were constantly surprised, you could imagine how it was now that he was using it in a more public setting.

It was confirmed now, before your very eyes, that Kageyama was now attending Karasuno.

Donned in a uniformed of black and orange with a huge indicator of his number nine, Kageyama was still same in appearance from when you had last seen him. Sporting an unintentional scowl with eyes that shone with a certain determination, you could spot Kageyama in the sea of volleyball players. A part of you was proud to see your, now much taller, kouhai on the court.

Your eyes followed the game, watching as Karasuno attempted to get around the Iron Wall that Dateko was infamous for.

A lucky save from a blocked spike, Karasuno’s libero was quick on his feet and you distantly recognized the short male. You blinked, seeing Kageyama’s perfect form and unable to personally decipher where the first-year was going to set to. You saw the older looking man, one who was surely in his twenties. Or the balder looking one, watching the setter from his place in the back line.

You blinked, a second passing as you tried to figure out who was the next attacker.

Your eyes could barely keep up with the orange flash of someone as the figure ran toward the net, without regard to the set, and spiked the ball before anyone on the other side could react. You felt yourself physically reel back in surprise, what the hell was that???

This was the freak-quick duo that everyone was talking about.

It was not just another name, rather it felt like an extreme understatement to what you had just seen for your yourself. You had not spotted any visual signals and wondered just how much Kageyama had worked on his precise pin-prick setting – he was a monster now, that was for sure.

You were not able to watch the rest of the match, your team calling you since it was getting closer to the time that your group was leaving. You had your own matches to deal with, and as curious as you were about how much Kageyama had changed since you last saw him, you had your own pressures to deal with at the moment.

The women’s team of Shiratorizawa won their matches the next day, overwhelming numbers in your favor since your renowned school seemed to always carry the best ace in the entire prefecture. You took in your victories with humble stride, knowing that nothing was set in stone until the final with your rival school - Aobajōsai. Rather, you finished your stretches and attempted to get the tail-end of the match between Seijō and Karasuno.

You watched with bated breath, unsure of who to root for in the final points, as the freak quick nearly disabled the second-best school in the prefecture. You could not help but bite your lip as the shortest middle blocker you had ever seen, rose above the net, only to be blocked by your old friends.

There was no stopping the apparent heart ache you felt at seeing a team you barely knew, dejectedly fall to the ground with their heads hung low. Oikawa was hollering in victory; there was no doubt in your mind that this match extended to a much more personal level, like that of his games with Ushijima. Within seconds, the brunet was yelling out commands for his team, likely getting ready for the next match as Karasuno lagged behind with depressed visages.

It seems Kageyama is finally beginning to trust other people, you inwardly mused when you reran the last few plays within your mind.

You stood at Aobajōsai’s side of the stands, waving to Oikawa with a smile when he spotted you, lining his team up to bow at those who came to watch the match.

Oikawa made a point of smirking and pointing a finger-gun at you, making many heads turn towards your direction as he did so.

You felt the instant pang and vengeance of a thousand fangirls, making the third-years of Seijō roll their eyes as you tensely motioned a slash across your neck toward the brunet. Other Aobajōsai students, those cheering from the stands, lifted a brow in confusion and curiosity – wondering just who this Shiratorizawa student was and what connection you had to Oikawa.

“At this rate, you’ll be branded a traitor, (L/N)-chan.” Tendou joked, making you tense up at the voice. You spotted him, along with three other students from your school sitting a little farther back from the Seijō crowd.

“I can’t be interested in some of my old friends?” You teased back, walking up to where they were sitting.

“Just don’t cry when I demolish your boyfriend.”

“He’s not-!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Tendou interrupted, turning back to the court as Karasuno neared the Aobajōsai side of the court to bow and offer their own thanks. “Besides, why be interested in him when we have cuties like this one?”

Tendou quickly grabbed at Shirabu’s cheeks, forcing the setter’s frown into a puckered fish-face for a quick second before the brunet nearly mauled his fellow teammate. You rolled your eyes at the antic, but said nothing to acknowledge the question.

You turned back, watching as Kageyama’s distant eyes never wandered higher than eye-level, obviously devastated that this was the result of all his training.

“Kageyama!” You yelled, hoping that the setter would hear you over the applause.

He had, looking up at the stands and seeing you wave at him. There was no hiding his surprise and it looked like he wanted to yell something back, but was instructed by his captain that it was time to head back to the coaches. Kageyama simply waved to you and then ran back to join the others.

“Or is it that one, all along?” Tendou asked in a low voice, eyes following the Karasuno setter before they slide over to you.

You hadn’t heard the red-head, turning back and going out to where the teams were convening downstairs. You attempted to look at the Karasuno crowd, but your own team was assembling for some strategy concerning your own final, the very next day.

After three games, the Shiratorizawa women’s team was pronounced winners of the Interhigh-Prelim. Everyone was aware of your school’s name, it’s reputation – how a win like this was simply expected of you.

But absolute winner did not cover the fact that your face ached from a receive to the face, unable to raise your hands in the visible route of the insane spike of your friend. Or the fact that one of your middle blockers was now actively sporting a limp, pain exploding in her ankle after having a bad landing in an awkward spot after successfully cutting off their ace. Or the fact that one of your regular wing-spikers was now benched, an ice-pack on her knee after her old-injury was sprouting after having to be used so many times.

Or the fact that you nearly cried with joy when you heard the immense crowd of Shiratorizawa cheerleaders and students chant your name, after you performed a setter dump.

None of these details really mattered in most people’s eyes. 

You were Shiratorizawa – winners to the core. They had no sympathy for your story or the hard-earned journey you made to the top, many just expected it with no empathy, and it made you scowl.

You and your team lined-up after the match, the cheering growing to a loud uproar as the cheerleaders, alumni section, and just immense crowd of students chanted the victory screech for Shiratorizawa.

You waved with both hands at your parents as they cheered your name even louder.

This was your second-year in Shiratorizawa, but your first time as a regular on the team. Your friends in Seijō were seeing your skill first-hand in the match, from start to finish, as your team had utterly demolished their hopes in progressing to nationals. You were a skilled setter before, but your time at the Academy had honed you better than you ever were. You gained experience from playing other powerhouses from around the country, even some local colleges who were willing to challenge you.

You were on a completely different level than where you were as the captain of Kitagawa Daiichi.

Your friends had accepted long ago your association with Shiratorizawa, but actively putting your face and actions to their defeat obviously strained their feelings toward you more and more.

You made sure to smile at them before the match, attempting to placate the tense feeling of fighting against your friends, but it was obvious that their friendship with you was getting harder and harder to maintain. After the game, they had completely ignored you – your current friends in Shiratorizawa advising you that it was just the heat of the match. 

But you knew better and simply kept walking away as they ignored you.

The men’s team was able to defeat Aobajōsai in only two matches – Oikawa’s bitter glare and Iwaizumi’s tense frown being sent directly into your own heart.

In the end, everyone deserves to win.

But there was only one winner in the end – you mused. Taking one last look, Oikawa not greeting you this time when he saw you at the line-up, you walked away from the match and back downstairs to the lobby.

It was just too much for your heart, all at once.

You sent a text to both third-years the next day: I’m proud of you guys! Don’t let Ushijima get you down. Iwaizumi answered within minutes, thanking you for the encouragement and even complimenting you on your jump-serve, since he caught a glimpse of your game.

Oikawa never answered.

Back at school, the coaches for both the men’s and women’s team allowed a rest-day on Friday’s holiday – Family Day – claiming that everyone needed to take a breather and that they had earned it from their win.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

11:23   From: Captain-Sama!             congrats to all !! ✿♥‿♥✿

11:23   From: Captain-Sama!                           may your crops be watered and your skin is clear

11:23   From: Coconut-head             thank you!! And for you as well ٩(♡ε♡ )۶

11:23   From: Ushiwaka-sama!             thank you I am checking my plants now

11:23   From: do you know da wae             I have exactly one succulent

11:23   From: the most tender Salami           lmao thanks b attached:oikawameme.jpg

11:23   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            why must you call plants that @doyouknowdawae

11:23   From: do you know da wae            y

11:23   From: do you know da wae            are you jealous of my good succc ??

11:23   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            LMAOOO

11:24   From: the most tender Salami              holy shit

11:24   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            fight me

11:24   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:24   From: the most tender Salami            (f/n) gives me hope for our meme legacy :’)

11:24   From: do you know da wae            i gotchu bby boo

11:24   From: do you know da wae            maybe I’ll even bring you back food from break

11:24   From: Captain-Sama!            am I the only one staying on campus for family day? :’)

11:24   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            myself + Shirabu are staying as well

11:25   From: do you know da wae            aw guys I’ll bring some of my mom’s oyakodon when I get back!

11:25   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            thank you!!

11:25   From: the most tender Salami            my food is now forgotten :’)

11:25   From: Captain-Sama!            you live closer to Karasuno and Seijooo, right?

11:25   From: do you know da wae            yaaaas

11:26   From: Captain-Sama!            ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: the most tender Salami            ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: do you know da wae            ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)

11:26   From: Captain-Sama!            don’t think we didn’t notice your little exchange with one of the freak quick kids

11:26   From: do you know da wae            oh

11:27   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            (f/n) cant have other friends ??

11:27   From: the most tender Salami            oh come on we all know they shared

11:27   From: the most tender Salami            the look attached: hearteyes.jpg

11:27   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            oh no the matchmaker is back in business

11:27   From: Captain-Sama!            oikawa then kags are you hiding any other setters ??

You were lounging on your bed during common hour, hesitating in your next answer and trying to decide if you were either going to mess with everyone or just end it there. But, you always loved sowing some seeds of discord with your favorite volleyball nerds. Typing in…

11:28   From: do you know da wae            im actually in love with one of the miyas

11:28   From: the most tender Salami            gasp

11:28   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            he can jump up his own ass

11:28   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            he is a good setter

11:28   From: Captain-Sama!            but a complete douche

11:28   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            I do not approve

11:28   From: the most tender Salami            that’s how you know he’s that bad, yamagata doesn’t ship it

11:29   From: Coconut-head attached: ???meme.jpg

11:29   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            ＼| ￣ヘ￣|／

11:29   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           who the fuck

11:29   From: the most tender Salami            third from left attached: InarizakiHigh.jpg

11:29   From: do you know da wae            tbh didn’t expect anyone to know who that was

11:30   From: the most tender Salami            lmao sweetie we live and breathe vball

11:30   From: Captain-Sama!            also unfortunately he was at a vbc camp with some of us

11:30   From: the most tender Salami            I’d rather approve of you with oiks

11:30   From: do you know da wae            lmao nah

11:30   From: Captain-Sama!            these RECEIPTS would beg to differ Attached: oinkawa.jpg; jointpractice.jpg; bakawa.jpg

11:31   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            holy

11:31   From: the most tender Salami            I knew it was true love 11:31   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            where is everyone’s chill ???

11:31   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            you will be a nice Shiratorizawa couple

11:31   From: the most tender Salami            LMAO

11:32   From: do you know da wae            why does this keep happening

11:32   From: do you know da wae            only kenjiro understands me

11:32   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            ive known waka forever and even I don’t know why he’s like this with Oikawa

11:32   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            its bc we’re the only normal ones

11:33   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            I’m not with Oikawa, he doesn’t even go to Shiratorizawa

11:33   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            a mistake in itself

11:33   From: Captain-Sama!            IM SCREAMING

11:33   From: the most tender Salami            wakanda forever

11:33   From: do you know da wae            LMAO I was thinking that too but decided against texting it

11:34   From: the most tender Salami            wait a second

11:34   From: the most tender Salami            kenjiro x (f/n) >.>>>>>>

11:34   From: do you know da wae            lmao don’t even

11:34   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              lmao well

11:35   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:35   From: do you know da wae            we all know that if that if kenjiro’s girlfriend hears this she’ll literally shank me

11:35   From: the most tender Salami            lmao true

11:35   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            she doesn’t even like me

11:36   From: do you know da wae            what a lie

11:36   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩             hard retweet

11:36   From: Captain-Sama!            we all know the alpha ship

11:37   From: the most tender Salami            oikawa x (f/n) x kags

11:37   From: Captain-Sama!            LMAO

11:37   From: do you know da wae            end me pls

11:37   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩             oof didn’t know you were into that

11:37   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            they can definitely do that for you

11:38   do you know da wae            …

You rolled your eyes at their antics, conversation on constant haywire. But you would not have it any other way. Most people would look at your school, the simple name and already have connotation to others. Yes, you were a powerhouse school. But that did not change the fact that you were all teenagers, just like everyone else. And with it came the continuous antics of meme-lovers.

Throwing your phone back on your bed and turning to look out the window, you were happy to have a day to yourself to finally make sense of everything happening. You were proud of your win at the Interhigh Tournament, no matter how bitter or lost your friendship had become with the people you were once the closest to.

Your texted your parents about the three-day break for Family Day and they had immediately pushed for you to come back home, where they would hold a celebratory dinner along with some other families they were close to and invited. You told your roommate about it and how embarrassing they were, but she countered that it was a sweet gesture, since she held a close relationship to her own parents as well.

“They’re just proud of their little girl, that’s all!” She teased, grabbing your head into a small nuggie. She was much taller than you, a middle-blocker who was still serving as an alternate.

Most of the other members of the team were also heading home on Thursday night, eager to visit their homes and parents and finally have a home-cooked meal after being away for half the semester. You personally looked forward to your mother’s cooking and said goodbyes to your teammates after your last class on Thursday.

Your dorm at Shiratorizawa was much farther than your home, actually sitting between Karasuno High and Aobajōsai. You considered jogging the entire way, but it was a rare break and decided to give your body one as well (at least just for the weekend, of course). Coming off the train, you spotted the street sign pointing to the aforementioned high-school and heavily considered visiting the old-time friend and setter that you had yet to have a formal conversation with in a good two years.

You had some time to kill and decided that maybe it was not such bad idea.

You neared the school and heard the tell-tale sounds of sneakers and volleyballs being tossed about.

Standing in the already open doorway, you spotted several faces that you recognized from the Interhigh game still training. They wore serious expressions, studying their abilities very carefully and working to fix the kinks in what they planned to bring to the table.

“Japan!” You heard someone shout over the others, the owner of the voice pointing at you as they looked at you in surprise, before they ran over to where you were standing.

You waved at the orange-haired middle-blocker, smiling as you did so. “I remember you. Good spikes, little dude.” You complimented, patting the top of his head as he blushed at the physical contact.

You turned back to the gym, stopping the blush crawling to your cheeks as every male looked at you in genuine curiosity. You kept scanning, until finally seeing the setter you were looking for.

Kageyama was already walking up to you, smacking the head of the still sheepish middle-blocker and muttering hinata boke, before he greeted you in a neutral voice.

“(L/N)-san.” He stated simply, inclining his head as he did so.

“Kageyama-kun, didn’t expect us to meet again like this.”

You felt the looming presence of two behind you and turned to see two males peering at you with open interest. One of them, that was the taller of the two, asked toward you, “Eh, Kageyama. How do you know Shiratorizawa’s setter?”

You smiled at the two looming boys and answered, “We went to Kitagawa Daiichi together.”

The two held their hearts with open euphoric expressions, happy that you were even gracing them with a response.

Kageyama fought the urge to slap them on the head as well, before adding. “She helped me with my jump-serves when Oikawa had refused to.”

You just kept on smiling, unsure what to say or add when the boys before you had yet to say anything at all as well.

“You give me too much credit.” You countered, “You were a monster on the court the other day.”

Asahi silently studied your figure, distantly remembering your sharp jump-serve that he had gleaned from your match, it was something you were personally known for after all. A setter who was capable of shutting out the team from making any offensive plays to begin with – you really were one of Oikawa’s students after all.

“Nice to meet a senpai to our little monster.” The captain teased, offering his name – Daichi.

“What are you doing here?” Kageyama asked you, trying to keep his voice leveled.

“Both volleyball teams were given breaks until Monday, consider it a blessing for winning Interhigh.”

“Wah! I remember you.” Hinata, you recalled from earlier, stating. “You did that thing that Oikawa did to us. He went pow and was about to set and then boom it was a spike!”

You nodded, surprised on how truly enthusiastic and just all-around pure the small middle-blocker was proving to be. This was the same volleyball player who was part of the freak quick duo you had seen for the first time not long ago. Eyes shining with determination and an indescribable aura, it was a complete change to the young man jumping with joy in front of you now.

You turned back to Kageyama, “I wanted to see how you were doing. I saw your game and was just wondering…” You trailed off.

Kageyama hesitated, a small frown still evident on his visage. “We have practice now.”

You dropped your sports bag to the side, “Sure. I don’t mind helping out with jump-serves or something if you guys need it.” You paused at the silence, “It feels weird not having practice during the week anyway.”

“Jump-serve? Shiratorizawa?” The coach asked with a finger on his chin, before it morphed to a smirk. “Better make the most of it!” He directed to the group.

You felt the evident hesitation in the air, several of the older looking men simply looking at you with no words coming out. But that did not stop the little orange to bound up to you without restraint, eyes gleaming with anticipation at whatever question was being held behind those wide orbs.

“Do you mind showing me your jump serve?” Hinata asked with hands held up to his chest, excitement apparent through his lack of restraint.

“Don’t crowd her, boke.” Kageyama bit out, but you waved him off with your hand and a relaxed grin.

Offering a small smile, in hopes of softening some of his reserve, you took the ball that Hinata was offering you and glanced up toward the rest of the group. The moment your eyes came to, the older (you assumed) third-years, were ushering other members to get back to their own practice. A man with silver hair was pushing his younger ones to their previous positions, but it was obvious that their eyes were following you as you walked across the court.

“Stand back, little dude.” You motioned with your free hand as you paced further back past the line.

Holding the volleyball out with your dominant hand, you took a deep breath and launched it up into the air above you. Examining it with keen eyes, you smashed it forward, close to the outer corner of the other-side, but within the bounds.

“Uwah!” You heard his cheer of excitement from the side and turned to see a bright and eager smile.

It seemed that all the other commotion in the gym had stopped as you readied to serve, silence now much more evident as they took a full gander at you – the one capable and widely known for your monster serve. You felt eyes peering at you, but they quickly averted as you timidly looked around the room for yourself.

All but two pairs of eyes, both of which you were sure were burning into your head.

“Allow me to receive your serves!” You heard the voice from behind you, turning to see a male who was a shorter than you, with two-toned hair.

“Sure.” You muttered, surprised at the humble request of a libero you had heard so much of before.

This continued until the next rotation, a strange smile on your face from being on the other side of practice. Your coach knew better than anyone your strengths and definitely exploited your weaknesses when it came to your own practice. You distantly remembered having to do a cursed number of jump serves and, even though it was your forte, there were tears in your eyes for just how much you ached.

“Here.” An older man inclined a water bottle in your direction. “My name’s Asahi.”

“Thanks. Nice to meet you.” You nodded back in appreciation, slightly intimidated from his tall stature and rugged appearance.

Forcing yourself to steel your spine, you recalled how you were previously incredibly apprehensive around Ushiwaka, who turned out to be the biggest volleyball idiot on the planet.

“Something up?” You asked with a raised brow.

“Do you mind, walking me through your serve?” He hesitated in his request, making you inwardly surprised that a man so big and bulky, was coming to you so humbly.

Again, Karasuno seemed to surprise you.

You walked home with Kageyama after practice, floors mopped and nets neatly stored away. You were so used to your dorm at Shiratorizawa, the walk home felt familiar and yet distant – it was strange to you. The both of your homes were only a few streets separated from one another, you remembered from the walks home you would have together before in junior high. And you decided on spending the beginning of the walk together in comfortable silence.

Or at least comfortable for you.

Kageyama was inwardly struggling to say literally anything.

He remembered you as the type of person who hung around Oikawa and Iwaizumi, two people who often had no qualms in engaging in conversation. You had a bright smile, unlike his own. 

And yet here you were, simply gazing ahead to the commute in front of you without a single word uttered. Kageyama had to stop himself from the physical nervous tick in his fingertips.

“I can’t explain it, but there’s just something different about you.” You stated, slowly moving your gaze over to the setter at the end of your sentence.

It was clear that Kageyama had no idea what to say, sputtering but no actual words coming out.

“It’s not a bad thing, not at all.” You raised your hands, waving them in defense. “Don’t worry, Kageyama-kun.”

“How can I not…” You heard him mutter under your breath, making you lightly chuckle at his words.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You complimented, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder and making him instantly shy once again. “Why are you so shy, now?”

“What do you mean?” He raised a brow.

“It’s just me, no need to feel so tense.”

Kageyama hesitated, “Thank you.”

“For today? No worries, a small part of it was selfish since I wanted to see you.” You admitted.

You could hear his breath hitch, before he added okay.

“You’re such a blueberry, Kageyama-kun.” You laughed at his disposition.

“What does that even mean?! Boke.” His apprehension was quickly pushed aside at his frustrated words, making you chuckle at him even more.

You reached Kageyama’s home first, a sight you had not seen for yourself in the past year. Even when you returned back home, this was a little out of the way from your usual commute. But this was strange, it seemed completely the same no matter how much time had passed. It always just seemed…

… Empty.

You turned to Kageyama, “Are you spending family day alone, Kageyama-kun?”

“Yeah.”

You gauged his reaction, despite his rough exterior, Kageyama did not exhibit a hint of a frown or sadness at the answer. Rather, his response was rather plain – as if this occurrence was normal and not even disappointing to the setter anymore. This realization hurt your heart, having such comforting and supportive parents of your own, Kageyama deserved just as much.

Kageyama was used to spending his time alone, that much was evident.

“Would you like to have dinner with us tomorrow, for family day?”

He looked at you fully, apprehension palpable, but stated anyway. “Sure.”

You exchanged phone numbers as a formality, but saw that both of you had your previous numbers saved in each of your phones. It made you slightly happy, that Kageyama decided on keeping your phone number despite your time apart at different schools.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kageyama-kun.”

“Boke, I’ll walk you.”

You tilted your head and pointed in the direction of your home, “It’s not that far–”

“It’s dangerous, you never know.” He interrupted, brisk words in evident contrast to his sheepish strides in front of you.

You just kept on smiling the way home.

“Would you like to come in?” You offered to which he nodded. You slid the door open and greeted. “Mom, dad! I’m home, I have Kageyama with me.”

“Come in sweetie, I’m in the kitchen!” You heard your mom’s voice, the sweet smell of her cooking fliting through the room and to your growling stomach. “Your dad is still picking some stuff up for tomorrow.”

You settled your bag at the end of the stairs before making your way over. “Hey.”

“Look at my favorite swan!” She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and then lightly squeezed your cheeks, “Now an official winner, too!”

“Mom, stop.” You grumbled, wrestling your face away from your ongoing embarrassment.

“Kageyama, good to see you too!” She greeted. “You’ve always been so tall – look at you now, all handsome.”

You laughed at Kageyama’s reddened face, no worries coming out of his goldfish expression.

Your mom continued, “I meant to stop by your home last week, I still owe your mom thanks for the calla lilies.”

“Oh. They’ll be back next week.”

Your mom paused, turning her head in question as she looked at the young man. With a newly determined face, she glanced at you and then toward Kageyama, “Would you like to join us for family day, then? We’re having a few people over and we would love to have you as well.”

“I already invited him, mom.” You stated, taking some dough off the table to eat as a small snack, which resulted in a large smack on the back of your head.

“Perfect.” Your mom assured, “I’m still cooking now, but you’re welcome to join us for dinner tonight as well.”

Kageyama backed-up with his hands raised, “I couldn’t barge in on (F/N)’s first night back with her family–“

You interrupted, this time. “Nonsense, Kageyama-kun.”

“Here, Kageyama-kun can help me with this little bit. (F/N) unpack your things upstairs and then come help set the table.”

You nodded, taking her orders without delay as Kageyama settled into the rhythm of your family.

“You were such a stern boy, back in Kitagawa Daiichi. I’m glad to see you’ve lightened up.” Your mother commented, passing the young setter some greens over the kitchen table.

By now, the meal was ready and the four of you, with the new addition of your father, were enjoying a quaint dinner to celebrate you finally visiting home after so long.

“Lightened, that’s a good word for it.” You added.

“There’s definitely a difference.” Your dad observed, “I was glad to see you’re still enjoying volleyball – still as gifted as ever.”

Kageyama paused, “You’ve seen me play?”

“Of course. There’s no denying the shock we still have when we see you serve. And that quick toss, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do it like that before.” Your mom replied, “We saw your game against Aobajōsai, there’s no doubt in anyone’s minds that you’ve grown as a person.”

“Game nearly gave me a heart attack – I’ll never get used to your brunette friend.”  You dad pointedly stated toward you before turning to Kageyama, “But I’ll be honest, even though we’re closer to the Oikawa’s, I was rooting you.” He winked.

“Honey.” Your mom lightly slapped his shoulder with a smile.

“Of course, the highlight of the tournament for us was cheering our daughter on to her first official tournament win.” Your father continued, waving off her light admonishment with a grin of his own.

“Wait.” You saw the little hamster running in Kagyeama’s mind, “You watched the last few days of the tournament?”

“I wasn’t about to miss my daughter become champion!” You father bellowed, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Even if I have to use my vacation days at work, I would hate to miss something so important to her.”

Kageyama continued staring, eyes never leaving your father. There was no doubt that Kageyama lived and breathed volleyball, he loved it more than anything else really. But, his parents had yet to even begin to understand the dedication he had toward the sport. Kageyama could not remember the last time they had attended one of his games or even tournaments.

The expression on Kageyama’s face was so far-gone, it made you want to do something to comfort him.

Apparently, your parents thought the same way.

“You’ll definitely get ‘em next time.” Your dad motioned toward Kageyama. “Seriously, that quick attack you have – I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“We’ll be rooting you on again.” You mom reassured Kageyama, offering a plate of meat toward the setter who was staring at them with wide eyes.

He took the plate with hesitant hands. That’s how you knew Kageyama was so surprised, the fact that he was even wavering to eat meat – his king of food.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Your father joked before turning to Kageyama fully with a serious expression, “We’re proud of you.”

You smiled at their words. 

You knew your parents well, just as they knew you, but here they were being entirely honest. Your parents did everything they could to have you in a loving environment – and this required being honest with what they wanted and what all parties were feeling. Meaning, they were not dressing up their words to the silent setter.

They really were proud of him.

You put a comforting hand in the crook of his elbow, since he was sitting beside you. That seemed to snap Kageyama out of his stupor, his glazed eyes turning to you and then between your parents.

“Thank you.” Kageyama paused, “Really.”

This was probably the extent of his social ability, you inwardly joked before offering the plate back to your parents. The poor dude was close to exploding, you could tell, and tried to steer the conversation away from the setter before that happened.

It was strange to Kageyama, the effort your parents took in spending time with you or even just what you were interested in. Your parents commented that they always downloaded your games if they were broadcasted on television, eager just to see how you were doing or wanting to send you an encouraging text about something you had done during the match.

Kageyama really felt the love in your family.

Your father walked him to the door, once dinner and dessert was done. Offering a goodbye and a literal see you tomorrow. Kageyama felt guilty, even in the face of your whole family telling him it was no issue, leaving your mom no choice but to task him with bringing a small cake for the gathering tomorrow.

Kageyama put a hand on the gate to your house, looking back with a small smile before continuing on his walk back home.

You spent the next day preparing for the small gathering that night. You only hoped that your parents would not embarrass you later. Kneading dough and humming along to the song through the speakers, you spent the calm morning alongside your mother in the kitchen. Your dorm only had a microwave, since you were still an underclassman with no privileges to a kitchen yet. It was a great change to finally have a cooked meal.

You greeted the first family with a smile, unaware of the feelings of one in particular.

“Hey, glad you guys could make.” You started, turning to the side for the new guests to enter. The parents smiled at you, inattentive to the tension between you and their daughter.

“Good to see you, (F/N). Congrats on your win, as well.” The father greeted as he passed you.

You turned to your friend, “I haven’t really seen you in a while.”

“Our last two sets was three days ago.” She bit out, glancing at you briefly before walking into your home.

You had always worried about this. 

You loved your friends; your time at Kitagawa Daiichi held a special place in your heart – but that was nothing compared to the continual animosity they held for your school. The rivalry between Shiratorizawa and Aobajōsai was not a surface level problem, it was one that was seemingly burning to the core of each blue-clad student. They wanted nothing more than to absolutely destroy you, even if you were their friend. And the fact that you were a forerunner in the women’s team’s defeat, it made them dislike you even more.

You could not withhold the long sigh that escaped you.

Your parents were always the type to participate in fundraisers or school events and, being a previous member of a strong school like Kitagawa Daiichi, meant that they were in constant association with other parents to kids just like you. You loved it at the time, since it was obvious display of their support for you and the sport. 

But now, after leaving the life-track of your Kitagawa Daiichi friends…

It’s not that there were no other parents that yours could connect with at Shiratorizawa. But it was harder for your parents since most of the others knew each other from Shiratorizawa junior high – meaning they already had their tight knit clique of parent association friends. It was not like your parents did not try either, but they were just closer to the friends they made at Kitagawa Daiichi. It also helped that your home was closer to the schools as well. Which meant that…

Some of their closest friends were parents from your time in junior high.

Meaning most of those invited today were probably now attending Aobajōsai.

You had to stop yourself from slapping your forehead against the door.

Your home was littered with various families containing your friends – or ex-friends? They had never actually confirmed anything to you verbally – making you want to literally throw yourself out the window and down the street into the river and hopefully float down back to Shiratorizawa.

If not for your parents, you would have had no problems walking back to school today if it meant avoiding this.

Opening the door after the telltale sign of the doorbell, you nervously smiled before the caustic eyes of the Oikawa family. Tōru, along with his parents, older sister with her husband and son, greeted you at the door as you stepped aside for them to enter. The older Oikawa dragged you into a hug, claiming you’ve grown way too much and that she was proud of your recent win. Takeru handed you a flower and you recognized it from the nearby park.

You were most nervous of Tōru – his reaction to you after the Interhigh Tournament was unlike how he had ever treated you before. Even as a newly minted Shiratorizawa student, he still took the effort to catch up with you and even text you back. But since the tournament he had been ignoring you. Iwaizumi reassured you that it was nothing personal, it was just your school that inflamed him.

But it just made it all the more awkward to be inviting Oikawa into your home now.

The rest of his family made their way into your home, but Tōru took his time in taking off his shoes and stand in the foyer area alone with you, hazel eyes locking with yours and never turning away.

“You’ve always been an amazing setter, I hope you know that.” You started.

He blinked slowly, eyes making their way from the bottom of your shoes all the way up to your face. It felt like you were being examined, his intense stare and uncharacteristic quietness raking through every detail of your body – no wonder your fellow students at Shiratorizawa found him to be intimidating. Oikawa really could be if he tried and it hurt your heart that you were now placed at the completely other side of a friendship.

Hazel eyes narrowed when he reached your face, “I don’t need your pity.”

You grabbed his elbow before he could walk away, “It’s not. Tōru, you need to know that. You’ve always been an incredible setter I look up to and that will never change.”

Oikawa looked at you but said nothing. At least his expression was more neutral, rather than its previous hints of resentment.

“Take away the names, the labels, the stupid school colors – you’re an amazing setter. And you will always have a place in my heart as my first mentor.” You admitted, watching as his eyes slowly widened with each word.

You continued, “Which is why I hate to see you beat yourself up over this. You mean so much to me, to so many people – I just want you to treat yourself right.”

Oikawa closed his eyes, seemingly taking in all of your words and letting it process one more time in his mind. When hazel eyes were peering at you one more, he had a slight smirk on his face, but you could tell that it was morphing into a genuine smile.

“Thank you, (F/N).” He tugged on your hand his time, free arm coming around your waist to bring you into a hug.

You felt his head lean against the top of yours, relishing in the moment that you could be there for your older senpai, one that had taught you so much when you were first starting your beloved sport. There was so much you wanted to convey to him and your really believed in your heart that Oikawa deserved to go to nationals – but you were just happy that he was not mad at you anymore.

“I really mean that much to you, huh?” You could hear the telltale signs that Oikawa’s teasing voice was edging back and you lifted a brow as the setter spoke, “I knew Shiratorizawa couldn’t take you away from me. You really must love me.”

You rolled your eyes, Oikawa was coming back to you.

He lightly pushed at your shoulders, one arm still around your waist but the other holding you a good enough distance so that he could peer down at you.

“Please wait for me, for marriage.” He winked.

Immediately you were pushing his arm away and turning to hammer your elbow into his ribcage. Oikawa back away immediately, muttering a curse and yelling at your violent nature.

“You’re lucky Iwaizumi’s family left for vacation or you would’ve gotten a real ass-whooping.” You stated in a dead-pan voice, making Oikawa sigh at you and mutter true.

You were happy to have at least keep your friendship with Tōru, even if your relationships with your past female friends were nothing short of a complete garbage fire at this point.

The brunette led you by hand into the living room, where many of the others were already socializing. You could literally feel the gossip spreading already, prolonged stares at where you were joined at the hands with Tōru, the whispers between the older parents, and even his own damn sister taking one look and then winking at the both of you.

You attempted to flick his hand away, but Tōru simply chastised you for being a brat.

You had to fight the urge to kick his shins.

He took out his phone and the two of you posed for the picture, joined hands visible from the angle. You wondered if this would be worth the sudden death via Shiratorizawa’s roasting if Oikawa posted this to Instabook, but you figured he would not since you were still on tense relations with literally everyone (sans Iwaizumi) from his team.

Your savior came in the form of the doorbell, immediately springing away from the hazel-haired setter and to the last awaited guest. He still followed you over, leaning his side against the doorway as he waited for you to open the door.

“Glad you made it, Kageyama-kun.” You greeted, taking the box of food from his hands so he could take his shoes off.

“Thanks again, for inviting me.”

“No problem. Make yourself at home.”

Turning back to Oikawa, you could see he was standing at full attention now - posture haughty, narrowed eyes, raised chin, and a small scowl on his visage.

You wondered if there would be a fight today.

Kageyama lost to Oikawa and your friends lost to you.

What the hell were your parents thinking????

You led Kageyama back to the living room, the both of you standing awkwardly as the current Aobajōsai kids talked amongst each other. Oikawa stood the side, surveying the situation before tsking, then walking over to you and leading you to sit in the empty armchair while he leaned on the armrest. He placed a lazy arm across the back and you fought the urge to say a sarcastic remark.

It immediately became silent, parents conversing on the other side of the dining room, unknowing to the tense situation in the center of the living room amongst the young teens.

Tōru was making it pretty obvious that he was draping his presence all around you. First leading you by the hand and sitting very close to you, even encompassing himself around you via his arm.

“Since when are you so chummy?” One of the girls asked toward you.

“We’re just friends!” You immediately raised your hands in defense. Oikawa said nothing as he raised a brow.

Another one of them sputtered, “You’re friends with Oikawa, but you don’t even try with us?”

“That’s not true. I tried talking to you and you ignored me.”

You could tell she was growing agitated as she bit back, “Why should I even try? All you do is beat us – practice matches, official games, tournaments.”

“Well, I’m playing to win.” You said with a raised brow, unsure where they were going with this.

“But why couldn’t you even try to play to win with us?” She huffed, “I get it. You wanted to be on a team of absolute winners and obviously that does not mean us. You’re the one who walked away because we weren’t worth it, right?”

You tried to get a word in, but she raised her hand for you to stop. Turning her head away from you, it was clear that no matter what you said, she was not going to listen. You looked at the other friends you had from Kitagawa Daiichi, most frowning before averting their eyes from you.

One of them took one hard look at you, keeping your eye contact, before she got up and walked away.

You felt the pain pinprick behind your eyes, the small sign of indication that tears were building on your visage. Not wanting to show your weak state to people who obviously hate you at this point, you quickly stood up and made your way to the back-porch area. Oikawa attempted to stop you, but you finagled your hand out of his grasp as you left.

You leaned against the wooden railing, wondering just how fucked up the situation grew and how different it could have been.

It hurt even more knowing that her words were true. You tried so hard, your last year of junior high, to pass the entrance exam for Shiratorizawa. That was your main goal the entire time, get into your dream school and that will make you an absolute winner. You had never, once, considered going to Aobajōsai as something desirable. It was not your second choice and honestly not even your third (Itachiyama and Fukurōdani reserved those spots). Aobajōsai sat as your last choice, something you did not actually want to do since it was inferior in your view.

But for your friends, it was their main and only choice.

You would never regret going to Shiratorizawa, it was your school and just because they resented it, did not mean that you did not deserve the title of winners.

But it still hurt that they hated you thusly.

You fought the urge to scream at the sky, when you felt an awkward, but comforting hand on your shoulder.

“They hate me too.”

“They don’t hide it well, Kageyama-kun.” You turned to him fully, a wistful smile on your face.

“It seems… Oikawa still treasures you.”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, he can be a complete asswipe.” Kageyama smiled at this, “But he’s still a brilliant setter and someone I wish the best for.”

Kageyama leaned his arms against the rail, eyes still trained on you. “Why do you care so much about people who want nothing to do with you?”

“I hate that I care so much.” You admitted, “But they were my friends – I held a leadership position for two years, even as their captain goddamnit. My time with them meant so much to me and it just hurts that it obviously didn’t have the same impact.”

Kageyama looked at you fully, a wondering expression on his visage.

“Was it worth it? Going to Shiratorizawa?”

“If I could go back, I wouldn’t change a thing.” You stated. “You?”

“I would still go to Karasuno.”

“Really? King of the Court?” You teased and watched the angry tick form at his forehead, “You wouldn’t come to the school of swans and absolute winners?”

Kageyama had a grim smile, one that indicated that he was thinking hard. “Now, probably not.”

“Wait, really?”

“No.” He hesitated, “I think I can really grow with Karasuno.”

“That’s great to hear.”  You smiled,  “Then let’s continue to live without regrets.”

“I try, but I understand.” Kageyama replied.

“Oh?”

“I remember what it’s like to turn around and no longer see a team.”

You felt your heart sag, recalling the headlines of Kitagama Daiichi’s loss. “But that won’t happen on Karasuno, right?”

Kageyama looked down and smiled, “No. It won’t.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m still rooting for you.” You said as you winked, causing Kageyama to flush red immediately.

The two of you stood in comfortable silence until the screen door opened.

“Never thought I’d see you two together like this.” Oikawa observed from the doorway.

“It’s not like that.” You waved your hand to casually dismiss his statement.

Oikawa walked toward Kageyama, stopping only at an arm’s length from him. “Good, I’ll have you know (F/N) is waiting for me for marriage.”

You actually tried to punch him in the stomach, like a full-on solid right cross on the annoying brunette, but Oikawa nearly growled and maneuvered you instead. Now, your arm was twisted behind your back and you felt Oikawa’s chest against your spine. You were about to tell Kageyama that Tōru was joking and would get a formal ass-whopping from Iwaizumi when you let him know, but you heard another voice call from just inside the house.

“Oh, this is where you all were! We’re starting dinner, come inside!” Your mom urged.

The other students said nothing when you joined them this time, probably only since you were now in the presence of parents and real adults. Kageyama sat on your right while Oikawa was on your left, you attempted to include both of them in conversation, but it was obvious that anything either setter said would immediately set the other off.

“Kageyama, would you like some more meat?” You asked, turning to him with a hopeful smile.

“Why don’t you pass me that plate instead, (F/N)?” Oikawa immediately countered before he could even answer.

Oikawa snapped another picture at dinner, one with you alongside him and flashing a peace sign at the camera and Kageyama munching away in the background as he listened passively to the others.

After dinner you returned back outside to the patio with Kageyama, now joined by others as they flit through the house.

“God, I’m sorry this is so awful.” You stated as you stood alongside the porch, shoulders touching side-by-side.

“It could be worse.” Kageyama offered, “Thank you for including me.”

“Always.” You replied, “I know we weren’t exactly close, but I did miss you for what its worth.”

Kageyama hesitated, “You don’t have to say that.”

“Why do you say that?”

“No one missed me in junior high.”

You poked him in the chest and demanded his whole attention, “Well, I did.”

The both of you lingered there for the night. Catching up on lost time and for the various woes you had in high school. Kageyama was still quiet as ever, but still offered words not unkindly throughout the conversation. 

It was nice to have one-on-one time with the setter. To think that even being from the same school, the times you were able to do this could be counted on two hands. You hardly ever sat down and had a serious talk with him in the past and any insight into the misunderstood setter had you hanging onto every word.

It was no surprise later that the Karasuno setter was the first to leave. You did not blame the pour soul since he was literally the most far removed from the families present (the next probably being you).

Walking Kageyama out the door and to your front-gate, you started. “I don’t know what it is with Oikawa and you. He’s almost as bad as Ushijima when he’s with Oikawa.”

Kageyama raised a brow, unsure just how the proper Ushijima could be anything but.

“Anyway, don’t listen to Tōru.”

He cracked a smile, “I never do.”

You lightly pushed his shoulder, “We both know that’s a lie.”

Kageyama just kept on smiling, not saying anything as he looked up at the night sky.

“Thanks for coming over. Sorry that literally everyone hates us.” You joked, “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but stay in touch, okay?”

The little awkward bean nodded, but you could tell that this goodbye was incomplete. He offered a handshake, but that seemed too formal considering your friendship. You took the hand for a second, before pulling it and wrapping an arm around him into a hug.

“Get home safe, Kageyama-kun.” You murmured against his chest and felt the deep rumble that signified his affirmation. His other hand curled around you hesitantly, unsure in his actions as he tried his best to reciprocate the hug.

“Thank you, (L/N).”

Waving one last time, you saw Kageyama make his way down the street before he turned fully on his walk back home.

“I don’t remember the two of you being that close in junior high.” You heard Tōru’s familiar voice from the doorway. It seemed the brunet was constantly walking in and spying on your interactions with Kageyama.

“Maybe your judgement is always clouded around a certain blueberry.” You stated as you walked back into the house.

Oikawa rolled his eyes then placed a lazy arm around your waist, guiding you back inside.

“I don’t feel comfortable seeing my fiancé alone with my annoying kouhai.”

“Don’t you dare say that in front of the real adults.”

Oikawa chuckled at your vernacular, but his hand on your body only tightened. You looked at him with an inquisitive stare, then pointed to the offending limb.

“Are you going to be like this all night?”

“Why? Can’t resist me if I continue?”

You sighed before moving to poke him on the forehead.

He grabbed your hand quickly and pulled it close to his bodice, pushing you forward to lean further into Oikawa’s chest. Surprised at the action, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closing from the comfort of the close proximity. One arm was around your waist while the other was in your hair. 

You and Oikawa had always joked around, but never had you actually flirted. But feeling his large hands on your body and the soothing beat of his heart under your own, it was strange.

Oikawa whispered against your forehead, “I’m glad Shiratorizawa hasn’t changed you.”

You leaned back to look him fully in the eyes and returned in a similar tone of voice, “Don’t let it change you either.”

Oikawa had a small smile at that.

“Don’t stop on my accord.”

You jumped in surprised and tried to spring away from the brunet immediately, who slowly let go of his hold and allowed you room to stand next to him, arms still touching.

“It’s nothing like that.” You started, but Tōru’s sister just smiled and walked away, muttering about young love.

The rest of the night was thankfully uneventful, Oikawa giving you space to converse with his fellow schoolmates and you spent time playing with Takeru, his cute little nephew. You made sure to keep your words guarded around the other parents, when they commended you for your recent win at the tournament. It was weird, to say the least, to accept the compliments and praise of parents who had kids on the losing side (and they were present too! oof). At least, if it seemed your Kitagawa Daiichi friends were about to spite fire at you, Oikawa was quick to intervene and even stand by your side.

You were sure to pass out once everyone left the house, helping your mom in some light cleaning but saving the shore of it for future you.

Turning to your phone on the nightstand, since your mom utterly refused for you to use it when guests were around, you spotted dozens of missed texts and fought the urge to groan aloud.

You scrolled all the way back to the first message.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

23:11   From: Captain-Sama!           what the fuck attached: instabook.jpg; screenshot.jpg;

23:11   From: the most tender Salami            looks like (f/n) actually took our advice and went with oiks and not miya

23:11   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            wait but what if they’ve been related this whole time?

23:11   From: Captain-Sama!           yeah it is family day

23:11   From: the most tender Salami           …

23:11   From: the most tender Salami           then that would mean an Oikawa actually does go to Shiratorizawa

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           LMAO

23:12   From: Ushiwaka-sama!           this is not what I meant

23:12   From: My only Okaasan/Eita           we know, waka

23:12   From: the most tender Salami           but how can we confirm it

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           (・_・)

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           @kenjiro @kawanishi pls respond its urgent

23:12   From: the most tender Salami           @kenjiro @kawanishi help ive fallen and cant get up

23:27   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           they are not related

23:27   From: Captain-Sama!           I KNEW THEY WERE DATING

23:27   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           lmao no way

23:27   From: the most tender Salami           I need more receipts

23:27   From: Captain-Sama!           I think my ship is sailing (´∀｀)♡

23:28   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           i don’t think so

23:28   From: Captain-Sama!           but they’re hOlDiNg HaNdS

You caught the gist of their conversation and scrolled down to the bottom, unwilling to read everything since you would have a whole hour to catch up to and with your sleepy eyes that just won’t do.

Without regard to whatever the last text was, you started:

00:57   From: do you know da wae           oiks is an old family friend

00:57   From: do you know da wae           my parents keep in touch w/ a lot of my ex-friends parents from Kitagawa

00:57   From: Captain-Sama!           oof sounds awk

00:57   From: do you know da wae           you have no idea

00:57   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           wait your celebratory dinner was w/ the ex-friends you just beat ??

00:58   From: do you know da wae           yeah…

00:58   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           oof

00:58   From: do you know da wae           oikawa was the only one from Seijō willing to talk to me without the need to shank me

00:58   From: do you know da wae           and even then they made sure to verbally roast me at every opportunity

00:58   From: the most tender Salami           wow

00:59   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )           we love you (L/N)!

00:59   From: Captain-Sama!           just know that we’re always here for you! ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

You smiled then and offered thanks, before shutting off your phone and finally getting a good nights rest after such an awful day.

The next day at breakfast, you just smiled and complimented your parents for their thoughtful dinner and how it was a success – saying nothing about the tension between you and the friends you used to have. It was your final day home and there was not a single thing you wanted to do.

Most of the people who lived around this area went to either Karasuno or Aobajōsai and then was no point in meeting up with your current friends at Shiratorizawa just to have to go back home and then head back to school the next day. You cherished the meal with your parents, but both your parents had plans later in the afternoon. Your mom sensed your anxiousness and tasked you with small chores.

You finally were interested when she directed, “(F/N), Kageama-kun forgot his leftovers yesterday. Mind bringing them over?”

With a quick nod and changing into your outdoor shoes, you headed out the door and a few streets over to the Kageyama household.

The windows were shut and no signs of light were seen. Kageyama seemed like the type who would do anything to keep himself in top form and you wondered the possibility if he was out jogging or something.

Ringing the bell, you heard some movement inside until the setter finally opened his front-door in surprise.

“(L/N)-san?”

You lifted the container of food into his point of view, “You forgot to bring some food home last night.”

“Oh, thanks.” He took it from you and paused, “Would you like to come in?”

You nodded at his polite gesture and greeted with a familiar sight. This was not the first time you were in his home, but it surely seemed the same from the last time. Kageyama seemed like a clean, tidy sort and undoubtedly his parents were as well.

You noticed his family picture displayed proudly on the center coffee table, an innocent smile on Kageyama’s face as he was nestled between his two parents. It looked like a picture-perfect family, reflecting only questions as to what happened to them now.

“You know, I can’t believe that I have never met your parents.” You commented, looking at the picture and him following your gaze.

He hesitated before replying, “I’m not surprised.”

You looked at Kageyama fully, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think they’ve ever watched me play.” He admitted, eyes on the floor at the sad realization.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.” He had a tense expression on, “But I like your family.”

“Thanks, they’re pretty embarrassing.”

“I..” Kageyama was hesitating in his words a lot, concerning this subject, you noticed. “There are no words to say how thankful I am toward your parents, for what they said and do.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You comforted, putting a hand on his shoulder. “They really are proud of you. And so am I, really. Believe me, great things are in store for you.”

That, in your mind, marked the notable shift in your relationship with Kageyama. Even after the weekend break for Family Day, you still were able to keep in contact with the setter. Previously, you were unsure where you stood with the King of the Court. But now with shared numbers and daily texting with one another, you were glad to have held your friendship with the blueberry.

Everyone was training for the Spring Playoffs, everyone’s distant goal of nationals constantly in mind. As the reining champions of your Prefecture, this was the time of year to prove once again why that was so. You were defending for three years straight, Ushijima standing tall as the prime representative of your school.

As the regular setter, you knew better than anyone the massive amount of pressure and training it took to get to this stage. And you made sure to prove it during the official matches.

You felt your heart physically break when Karasuno faced off against Aobajōsai. A school that even you had remembered as a fallen-powerhouse was now over-powering a longstanding rival of your own school.

Oikawa did not cry at the end of the game, but your connection to the older setter was enough to feel the pure anguish and annoyance that was raging in his heart. You wanted to just say something to the brunet, but when Ushijima rushed Oikawa after the match, you figured that it was probably not the best timing. (You also did not want to risk the wrath of the others).

You waited behind a pillar, listening to Oikawa and his unusually intimidating voice. Both alpha males turned and stalked in opposite directions and you fought the urge to call out to the setter. Rather than leaving it to another moment, one that would be much easier for him to ignore, you ran behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

He squeaked out in surprise, “Wha-”

“You deserve the world Oikawa and I know you’re meant for more than what this prefecture has to offer.” You interrupted before walking around to be face-to-face to him, “You’re going to stand on an international stage. And no one will be able to stop you there.”

He stayed quiet, eyes hard as they examined your own, as if he was trying to gauge how honest your words were.

“Besides, I wouldn’t marry a man who wasn’t prepared to take over the world.” You joked.

He cracked a small smile then, and slowly wrapped his arms around your waist. “Thank you.”

You smiled brightly, a hand on his chest while the other was on cheek, to full look at him. “I just want you to be as proud as I am about you.”

Oikawa looked away, turning to the side before returning his gaze back to you. “Why couldn’t you come to Aobajōsai?”

You were internally taken aback at the question and you were sure it showed on your face.

“I never asked before, I just accepted that my counterpart on the women’s team was on a completely different track.” Oikawa explained, voice a small whisper. “And it made me wonder how someone like you, who tried so hard against Shiratorizawa in junior high and still lost, did not even try to fight them.”

His voice was hard by the time the last few words came-out and this felt like an incredibly different Oikawa.

“You claim so hard that you care about us, about me.” Oikawa bit-out, “Then why didn’t you even try to fight for us?”

“I, everyone knew from the start-“

“You were the pillar of the team, the cog that made it run. You gave them strength and you knew that and you still left.”

You were sure this was something Oikawa had been waiting to get off his chest, a thought that had lingered for years apparently now, and were unsure what you could say to placate the remnants of your friendship with the setter.

“The fact of it all is that we cared to keep our family together even if meant not being an absolute winner.” Oikawa stated, a bruising hold on your waist now. You could not find it in yourself to push him away, “Which obviously, didn’t matter as much to you.”

“Oikawa, please.” You whispered out, unsure what you were asking for.

“Please what? To stop saying the truth or making you finally realize it?” His gaze was a predatory-kind, one you had spotted multiple times on the court and one that displayed an intimidating anger. “Are you really supposed to refer to your fiancé by his last-name?”

“Why are you being like this?” Your voice came out weakly and you barely recognized it.

“Why were we your last choice, (F/N)-chan?”

You pushed at his chest, but his hold did not budge and you were sure that your face demonstrated the absolute fear you had toward your friend of five years.

“That’s enough.” You heard the comforting voice of someone familiar along with multiple footsteps.

When you looked over Oikawa’s shoulder to see Semi’s confused one, it immediately hardened at seeing you so scared. He did not hesitate to push you two apart, standing as a shield in front of you between you and Oikawa as Kenjirō put a protective hold on your shoulder and Kawanishi scanned you up and down.

“What happened here?” You heard Iwaizumi’s voice as he rushed down the hall.

His best-friend, who knew Oikawa almost better than himself, saw the raging anger in the setter and for once and only once – it was aimed toward you alone.

The brunet took one last look at you, hard and piercing despite the addition of multiple people, before her turned away and walked back toward his team.

Iwaizumi did not leave immediately, looking at you with an apologetic disposition before following behind his friend.

“Are you alright?” Semi asked once both boys were out of eyesight.

You reassured them you were fine, but your voice could not even convince yourself.

“Oikawa might’ve been your friend, but he’s our rival now and he is trying to shake you before your final, don’t let him get to you.” Semi explained.

You nodded meekly, allowing Kenjirō to guide you back to the Shiratorizawa area. The others were quiet as you approached and you wanted nothing more than for the others to forget this ever happened.

“If only we could crush him tomorrow.” Tendou stated with narrowed eyes as he looked at your rosy nose and distraught eyes.

“Thanks, Salami.” You attempted a small smile.

“Ugh, I hate seeing you like this.” Tendou commented before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder and ruffling your hair.

Oikawa was right, to an extent. You and him had started on the same track, leaders of each respective Kitagawa Daiichi volleyball team and one of many victims to the Shiratorizawa streak. You had both felt the pure anguish of utter defeat, the fact that you had both tried your best and it still was not enough. And instead of following Oikawa’s track, you had chosen to attend the school that often broke your heart.

You wondered how long Oikawa had thought this but said nothing.

You were sure the bitter defeat was a large impetus to how he just treated you. But it still stung to know that was some pure honesty and truth in his words. You wanted the ground to swallow you up, to take away the memories of the last hour and stop yourself from seeing one of your close friends because one of your now many rivals.

Goshiki sat with you on the bus and made a point of keeping your mind off of what had just happened. It was obvious that everyone knew by now, from your captain’s reassuring stare and Yamagata putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, they were thankfully trying to keep their words guarded, at least. You smiled at the first-year, appreciative that he was trying so hard.

You saw from your peripheral that Kenjirō would often turn in his seat to check-in on you (it’s not like he was trying to hide it anyway). Yamagata offered you his spare juice box and Ushijima offered to pickup ice-cream for you on his usual night jog. It made you laugh at the offer, but accept it nonetheless since this was a rare occurrence.

Why do you care so much about people who want nothing to do with you?

Kageyama’s word rang in your mind and you thought, maybe, it was time to let Oikawa and the others go. Your heart ached at the thought, but you doubted that they shared the same sentiment about you. They weren’t staying up at night, losing sleep as they thought about you.

No, they hated you.

And when Iwaizumi texted you the next morning, you just said you were fine and it was probably for the best.

Besides, you had other things to worry about rather than people who cared nothing for you.

The next night was the finals between the men’s teams, Karasuno bringing Shiratorizawa to a full five sets, one that had you watching with baited breath. The crowds themselves seemed to have their own battle, cheering with their whole hearts to the point that you were sure you were rocking the stadium. You wished Kageyama good luck before the match, his face erupting in a rather obvious blush as his grey-headed senpai smiled and just patted him on the back. You did the same with Shirabu and Kawanishi as well.

Shirabu just smirked and Kawanishi patted your head.

Assholes.

But now you were seeing more emotion on each second-years’ faces than ever before. Yes, Shirabu and Kawanishi were salt squad and had no qualms using biting words or sarcasm. And yet the setter was much more expressive, displaying even fear and surprise as the game went on. You felt your heart surge when you saw Kawanishi get a serious face on, eyes narrowing as you saw the little hamster in his head run at full speed, guess-blocking working at it’s peak form now.

Kageyama was no exception, acting as one of the main conductors of the game and even having to sit out from his diminishing stamina. His jump serves were much better than during the Interhigh, you wondered if you should give yourself a pat on the back or kick your own ass for helping him against your own team. 

But there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, while the team of Karasuno was strong through their constant attacks and teamwork – it was Kageyama who was standing out the most during this game.

Hinata and that blond middle-blocker were interesting players, but your eyes always gravitated back to Kageyama. From his jump-serve that had even your powerhouse school on their toes to his resilient efforts to keep playing despite exhaustion, Kageyama kept your attention for the entire duration of the game.

You wondered if Kageyama’s parents were present.

You were not sure who to cheer for. Ushijima proved his unending stamina, earning point after point even when it was obvious that it was getting tiresome. It made your own shoulder hurt just looking at him. Tendou showcased the true power of the guess-blocker, eyes roaming the shorter setter with keen eyes.

All of this came to a crashing end.

21-19

The absolute winners were retiring.

Everyone was tasked with one-hundred serves, even the women’s team who had their own finals in a few more days.

Shirabu and Kawanishi were tenser than usual, you noticed during class and again during lunch. Shirabu’s not-girlfriend attempted to placate his mood with ice-cream, but she later iterated to you that in the end he just needed a long hug. You tried to do the same to Kawanishi, who simply took it in pure silence as he reciprocated the gesture.

Tendou was seemingly placated when you gifted him a home-cooked meal from a recent care-package from mom, but you knew the third-year well enough that his dark paradise was a hole in his heart that could never be replaced. Ushijima was hard to read, but nonetheless thanked you when you had given him a small cactus.

The men’s game put your nerves more at odds, despite how much you were trying to hard it with a strong face. Karasuno, a team that rose from nothing to become the team heading to nationals, they were able to beat the indomitable champions of Miyagi. It made your stomach churn at the possibility of losing to your long-term rivals at Aobajōsai.

The day after the game, everyone could observe your anxieties and had decided that maybe you needed some good luck help from home. You used to always have a ritual when you were particularly nervous and that involved a certain dish you mom made as a charm before big games and it also helped to have the words of your parents affirm your confidence. Your coach agreed to this idea, spying your shaky hands and unsure moves in practice.

Before home you stopped at the Kageyama’s, Tobio answering the door for you.

“Just wanted to say congratulations.” You greeted before taking something out of your bag. “I remember you used to love these milk cartons in junior high, so consider this a celebratory gift.”

“Thank you.” He had a small smile, one that you were sure he was not even aware of. “I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

“Why would I be?”

“Shiratorizawa...”

“Is just a school.” You interrupted, thinking back to your ex-friends from Aobajōsai, “We all love volleyball and it’s time we all accepted there can only be one winner.”

He nodded at your explanation.

“Besides, you should come watch me win our spot to nationals.” You winked, “Me versus Seijō. It’ll be one hell of a game.”

“I know you’ll do great.” Hearing a compliment like that from Kageyama, it was strange. But you smiled anyway. “What are you doing in the area?”

“Ah. I’ve been getting nervous from seeing your game, honestly. So I was allowed to go home tonight for a good luck charm and to help calm myself.”

“Nervous? But you’re not playing us.”

“I know that!” You rolled your eyes in amusement. “But Shiratorizawa has always been considered as the winners. And no offense, nobody saw your win as possible. But you did it anyway. And the same thing could very well happen to us.”

Kageyama lightly poked on your forehead. “Boke, focus on the fight in front of you. You’ve always won against them, right? In practice matches and last tournament, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then use it to your benefit, but don’t get complacent.”

You paused and smiled, “Thank you.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“As tempting as that is, I have to get home to my parents and then head back to school.” You looked at his house once more, “Are your parents home?”

“No.” You frowned, but said nothing and waited for him to continue. “Neither of them have been, for a few days.”

“Have you heard from them?”

Kageyama turned away, “They don’t even know I’m going to nationals.”

You put a small hand in the crook of his elbow, “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Sure.”

Since then, the match between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa was spurning you on, the thought of further rivals exciting you rather than scaring you now. You could not deny the fact that seeing both your parents and Kageyama had lightened your spirits. 

And, not for the first time, you pondered over your strange relationship with the young setter.

You were not as close to him as you were to Oikawa in the past. And yet Kageyama was the one who tried just a little bit harder to hold onto you than your brunet friend. You could not deny the slight attraction you felt toward the blueberry as well, his shy and blunt nature something you were akin to. If anything, you knew better than most how much Kageyama had changed in the last few years.

But you had bigger things to worry about now.

Like going to nationals.

You relished in the slight burn in the palm of your hand at your untouched jump-serves, success rate higher than usual. And when you stood on the court itself, the name Shiratorizawa echoing as it cheered through the stands, you felt pride course through your veins.

When both Shirabu and Kawanishi wished you luck before your match, you felt the need to knock their heads together like coconuts. They tried to do it in the chillest way possible, muttering it to you with their hands in their pockets. You watched Tendou roll his eyes from behind Shirabu. Instead, you tugged them both into a hug before either could be too cool to refuse it.

Ushijima patted you on the shoulder and reiterated the tips he had given you in the gym the day before – it seemed Waka was actually watching you intently and you thanked him for his observance and helpful advice. Goshiki offered you a thumbs-up and Tendou patted you on the head for the nth time, but you smiled at both. Semi and Reon stood to the side with genuine smiles, since neither were particularly close to you, but you appreciated their presence anyway.

You were placed in the front line, your team’s starting position opting for the most attack options in the front row. The women’s team for Aobajōsai was similar in that it was a complete team, but a team not as good as Oikawa’s. 

The synergy and trust between the setter and Iwaizumi was not something that could be replicated, only earned through more than a decade of true friendship. Rather, the women’s team lacked the power necessary from their ace and it was easy for a team as skilled as yours to pick up their serves defensively. Shiratorizawa relied on the power of their ace – and for a team with the best volleyball players in the Prefecture, it was a winning strategy.

Once you were rotated to serve, the entire stadium was separated from you mentally. It was just you and the game in front of you, not the loud shouts of Seijō or the pressured looks from your older captain. You let it lose, scoring with a single touch on your serve.

A no-touch service ace – a feat only you were capable of throughout the entire game.

You relished at the cheer of your name, the powerhouse clout proven when seemingly the entire stadium erupted in your name. It was a skill you had alone, not even your older senpai’s capable of scoring on a no-touch ace. And yet you did it multiple times. You spotted the clenched fists of your previous friends and their glares in your direction. But that did not deter you from your goal as you served with your entirety.

You glanced at the scoreboard, only one more point and you would be the reigning victor.

A deep breath.

In only three sets, it was over.

You were going to nationals.

Everything after that was hazy – you remember your ace literally picking you up. She was a good ten centimeters taller than you and built like a complete brickhouse, so that definitely helped. You remembered bowing to both your current and previous friends, but not a single one of them took your hand to shake at the lineup.

If you were still unsure of your relationship, it was quite clear that they hated you now.

The men’s team, sporting their similar tracksuits, clapped along in the stands as you thanked the audience. Your star-struck facial expression must have been obvious, since your fellow teammates kept poking at your cheeks and teasing your appearance.

“No touch service ace!” Your ace yelled aloud, grabbing you in another hug and lifting you like a trophy for the second time in the last ten minutes.

“You are an absolute monster, (F/N)!” Your captain commented as she laughed, arms in the air as she celebrated as well.

You felt the congrats and praise of everyone around you – your stoic coach even smiling in your direction (a small act of praise, but that was probably the best you were going to get). You felt the murmurs of the crowd around you, an immense audience that had just watched you singlehanded slam a ball away from an entire team.

It was liberating.

You along with a few others walked out from the courts, wanting to get some air away from the ruckus at the center of it all. Some wandered to the bathroom and others wanted to immediately run to their significant others.

You wandered out in the hall and the first non-teammate you ran into was a familiar brunet, running and hugging him from behind.

“(F/N), I will break your bones and make a chair out of them.”

“Shirabu, take me out to dinner first.” You joked, arms never leaving his middle even after he turned around towards you. “Come on, I just won. Grant me this?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, but did eventually return your hug, ears suddenly red at the endearing gesture. “You serve well.”

“Thanks, maybe I’ll give you some private lessons.” You winked, earning you a push to your face immediately, putting a good foot between you and the other setter.

You laughed, the sound echoing through the hall and earning a small tsk, signaling that you two were not the only ones in the near-empty hall. You saw Shirabu tense in your peripheral, before he stepped in front of you between you and the other man with his one arm raised as if it was a protective wall.

He had his chin-up, arm on his waist as he regarded you with narrowed eyes and a dangerous expression.

“Oikawa.” You started.

“Congrats on your win.”

“Thanks.”

“Five points in the last set were yours alone, meaning twenty percent of the win was just from your serve.” Oikawa started explaining and you were unsure where he was going with this. “That’s without counting sets to the ace.”

“I suggest you leave.” Shirabu interrupted Oikawa’s external train of thought.

The brunet ignored him. “And who did you learn that jump serve from?”

You swallowed lightly, “From you.”

“And yet it was greatest weapon used today.” He narrowed his eyes, letting it travel your form as you stood there with a tight expression. “If only I had known then.”

“Let’s go, (F/N).” Shirabu stated, eyes never leaving Oikawa.

“Go ahead. I hope you think of me each and every time someone praises you on your jump-serve.”

“That’s enough.” Another voice cut in from the other end of the hallway, “She won today and not even you can take that away from her.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at Kageyama’s appearance before turning to you, “Of course, this is the one you actually care about.”

“Tōru, stop.” You bit out, voice stern at this convening of setters.

“Oh, cut that out. I played a part in who you are today, you and I both know that.”

“Of course, I know that!” You exclaimed as you move to stand right in front of him, “The part you played in my life will always mean something to me, but you are not the same Oikawa I grew up with right now.”

Oikawa tsked before biting out, “Good luck at nationals.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do, dear fiancé.” Oikawa emphasized the last word, shrugging as he turned to leave the way he came.

“Whatever, it’s not like you can relate to nationals anyway!” You yelled as he walked away, watching him physically hesitate at your words, but never uttering another word toward you.

Kageyama’s eyes followed him until he was completely out of view, before he turned to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, that was nothing.”

He looked as if he did not believe you, blue eyes hanging onto your appearance for a second longer before turning to the quiet Shirabu. The brunet was examining you also, eyes trained on your blank expression as if you were trying hard to convey that you were okay.

“I should freshen up or something before the ceremony.” You started, “I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks for coming Kageyama, in case I don’t see you later.”

You fought the urge to bite your lip as you ran in the direction of the bathrooms. This was supposed to be your day. The culmination of all your hard-work as you finally earn your rightful spot to nationals, it was supposed to be a day where you cheered and were happy at being at the frontlines for a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And yet.

You opened the door to the women’s bathroom and came face to face with the vice-captain of Aobajōsai. Or as you once knew her in junior high, she held the same position while you were the captain.

“This isn’t over.” She immediately snarled.

“I know.”

“I hope you know that I hate you.”

“I know.” You stated in a low tone, pushing past her and into the bathroom. She huffed, silently observing you as you washed your face in the sink.

“Then do something!” She yelled, “I hate you so much I feel like I can just rip you limb from fucking limb! You were my best-friend for years and you still felt the need to leave!”

“I know. And I was wrong to diminish your feelings like that.”

“I… What?” She was still huffing, despite the confused expression on her face.

“You’re right. You guys were my closest friends since I first started school and I just… left.”

“Why are you saying this?”

“Because you’re right. I don’t regret going to Shiratorizawa, but it wasn’t fair of me to disregard all your feelings. I thought it was because of the rivalry between our schools, but it was because of me.” You sighed, “I’m sorry. I should’ve considered the fact that we were a family, but I’m not like Oikawa.”

She clenched her jaw but said nothing.

“I didn’t choose to stay with my friends, I chose for my future. And that was selfish of me, but I won’t change it.”

She sucked in a deep breath and stated, “I hate you.”

“I know.”

With a long-hard look, she huffed yet again. “Good luck at nationals, you bitch.”

You could not help the chuckle that escaped your lips, but she had already turned to leave out the door by the time you turned back to where she was. At least you had said your peace, there was nothing left for you to do if they could not accept even that.

The prefecture ceremony was a blur, names announced and cheers erupting at each team-member. You remember looking over to Aobajōsai on multiple occasions – it seemed they were all looking at you. No matter what was happening or who was being called, you could almost guarantee that a good amount of them were glaring in your direction.

It was liberating that you could brush it off, no longer as affected as you would have been even a week ago.

“Congratulations, (F/N).” Ushijima commended as he stood towering over you.

“Thank you.” You bowed, “Your advice really helped.”

He nodded, before turning to speak to other members of your team.

“Congrats again.” Shirabu greeted with a smile.

Kawanishi said nothing as he wrapped his arms around your middle for a quick second before backing away. “You earned it.”

You rolled your eyes, unsure if he was referring to the game-winning victory points or the ‘hug’ he had given you just now.

But you loved them all anyway.

They were your family now.

Your coach started practice the same as any other day, as if you had not just earned your way to nationals seemingly the day before. You wondered if you had just dreamed up the last few days, the real match taking place soon which is why you were training so damn hard. Your ace raised a brow as you were all instructed to do more jump-serves but did not grumble aloud unless face with another consequence.

When the entire team had finished their round, the coach gathered everyone into a circle to address them.

“Hopefully, the last few days have taught you the importance of the jump-serve.” Her eyes travelled the group until they landed completely on you. You felt multiple eyes of your teammates do the same. “You could completely shut-out your opponent with this attack, stopping them from ever connecting and letting them simply suffer defeat without ever touching the ball.”

You raised a brow at her morbid description but kept on listening.

“There is no doubt why (F/N) was named MVP of the match. But do not rest on your laurels, enjoy your break but don’t get lazy.”

The reaction was instantaneous.

“We have a break?!” Your captain exclaimed in obvious excitement.

“I’ll see you all on Monday.” Your coach stated vaguely, before turning and walking away.

“Hell yes!” Your captain yelled, “Let’s clean-up faster so we can get homecooked meals, yes?”

You felt the air of amusement and laughter in the gymnasium, happy to finally go home on this warm Friday evening, without the worries of practice over the weekend. Maybe your coach was not that bad after all.

And when you woke up mid-Saturday morning in the comfort of your home, guessing maybe around ten, you stretched and relished in the rare enjoyment of sleeping-in. Waking at nearly five in the morning every day, just to jog of all things, was taking it’s toll on you. You had to learn how to enjoy life more, you mused with a small smile.

Your mom knocked on your door before entering, “You have a visitor sweetie. I suggest you freshen-up. I’ll make breakfast for the two of you, but then I have to leave!”

“Ughisdfhis.” You murmured into your pillow as your rolled over.

“Or maybe I should just invite Kageyama-kun to your room so he can see how you really are.” She teased.

Immediately you were up, springing out of bed at the aforementioned name. You grabbed an outfit you packed the night before, rushing into your bathroom to brush you teeth and look presentable before the young setter.

By the time you headed downstairs, you were as clean and crisp as a bloomed daisy.

“Good morning, Kageyama-kun.” You greeted, “To what do I owe this visit?”

He greeted you in kind and explained, “I wanted to congratulate you like you did to me before..”

You walked over to him and suddenly a box of avocados were thrust into your view, quickly grabbing hold of it as Kageyama rushed in into your arms.

“I’m sorry! You gave me milk and I remember in a magazine you said you liked avocados! I thought…!”

You laughed at the sentiment, happy that he had thought about you but amused that he had resorted to the secondhand words of a magazine of all places. “Thank you, Kageyama-kun. I love it.”

“Are you sure? Because I can –”

“Stop worrying so much. It’s a present from you, of course I’ll love it.” You put the box on the floor and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” You were openly staring at him, eyes trained on his flushed appearance as he shyly attempted to look away from your strong stare. “Boke, stop staring at me.”

You chuckled, turning your gaze to the side before back to him. “There’s just something about you that I like, Kageyama-kun.”

It seemed as if he stopped breathing, expression similar to a fish out of water.

“Like, like-like?”

You chuckled, “What? Am I not allowed to?”

“No!” He seemed exasperated, hands raised as if to stop you. “No… I’m just surprised.”

“Why?”

“Oikawa…”

“Has only ever just been a friend.” You quickly finished the sentence for him.

“Or Shirabu…”

“Has a semi-girlfriend who would literally kill me.”

“Oh.”

You had a brow lifted, already expecting this surprised and unsure reaction from Kageyama. He was always socially stunted and did not hold it to him that he had yet to actually respond to your confession. Kageyama stood, wide-eyed and barely blinking, staring straight into your eyes as if looking for a hint of farce.

“I like you, too.” He stated plainly and if not for the seriousness of the situation, you would had chuckled at his solemn tone of voice.

“That’s reassuring to hear.” You responded, smile on your face widening.

“Are you sure you like me?”

You chuckled lightly, “For someone who claims to like me, it seems as if you’re pushing me away.”

“No!” Kageyama urged, “Just making sure, boke.”

You rolled your eyes, smile still prevalent at his words. This was the same Kageyama who was labeled as King of the Court – and for good reason too. He was relentless and exuded confidence in the one medium that barely anyone could match his all-around skill. There were times, as you watched him on the court, that you were utterly impressed with his abilities. And yet now..

It was clear that Kageyama was one thing right now: unsure. And you found the need to somehow reassure him, to let him now fully and transparently that he was the complete object of your affections.

So you stepped toward the now shy setter and took his hand in yours. Widely smiling, you were about to ask him something before he suddenly interrupted.

“Would you like…” He paused, looking to the side before turning back to you. “Would you like to date?”

“I would love to.”

He smiled back, tightening his hold on your hand. It was quite clear that the entirety of your own could fit in his palm – it was a nice feeling. Unlike the multiple times that the situation called for being your hand held, like with Oikawa being an ass or the occasional Shirabu (like when he was dragging you away due to embarrassment), this felt right.

“How about today? Are you free right now?” He asked, mustering more courage now knowing that you would most likely say yes.

“Sure, just let me get ready and we can get brunch.”

Your mom was not at all surprised when she returned, seeing you getting ready for your first-date ever. Kageyama was still waiting in the living room, hands clenched at the top of his knees while the television played ignored in the background. It was evident from the expression on his face that his mind was reeling over the past hour and over the implications of the next one. You were not the only one nervous, but this was Kageyama of all people, you understood him. If only there was a way for you to convey this to him.

Kageyama overheard your mom’s declaration of happiness at the situation and fought the urge to blush, was he that obvious? Your mother, uncaring of the rather uncomfortable setter sitting in her living room, walked out of the kitchen to shoot him a thumbs-up and ink. When Kageyama only blushed harder, your mom laughed and held out her hand, your father slapping an annoyed twenty bucks into her expecting palm.

“Don’t make me regret trusting you, boy.” Your father warned, a pointer finger in Kageyama’s direction as he was dragged away and out the house by your mother for ‘privacy.’

You shoved the door closed behind you as they left, back against the wood once both were gone. “Don’t mind them, they’re embarrassing.”

Kageyama smiled, then stood and hesitantly took your hand in his. “No, don’t worry about it. I love your family.”

You felt your own expression widen as it matched his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in yours. “Thanks. Where to?”

Kageyama nodded, saying nothing as he guided you out the house and down the street. You had good idea about where you were headed, Kageyama was a man of routine and rarely strayed from his likes unless necessary, so simply entrusted your walk to him.

You peered up at his handsome visage, black mop of hair sitting naturally with a small rosiness dusting his cheeks. He was Kageyama obviously, but much different from the one you went to junior high with. This was a man weathered and you appreciated his journey from dictator to kind blueberry, happy to have seen his growth.

You lifted a free hand to push some of his longer bangs back behind his ear, the feeling unnatural to the poor setter, who immediately froze at the physical contact.

“You’re so cute, Kageyama-kun.” You complimented, before turning back to your route and lightly tugging on his hand to keep walking.

“Boke.” Breaking his stupor, Kageyama looked to the side and muttered in a low voice. “You’re the cute one.”

You fought the urge to laugh, but wanted to do something to reflect your feelings. You knew that a kiss would nearly cause the setter to explode and debated it as your stared at his lips and later at his cheek. Your train of thought must have been obvious, since Kageyama’s eyes widened unsurely.

Knowing you did not want to implode this poor boy’s heart, you took his hand in yours and placed a harmless kiss.

He was red the whole day. 

[dinoyoongi]

Romance Is Dead

SYNOPSIS: You try to surprise Yoongi with a night full of romance but he manages to ruin all of your plans.

PAIRING: Yoongi x You

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNINGS: Language, *Implied* smut

WORD COUNT: 4311

_________________________________

Yoongi: Practice ending in twenty. I'll be over after. Do you want me to bring anything?

You: Just yourself. ❤️

You drop your phone onto the counter, doing a quick study of the dining room. Plates, cutlery – check. Ambient lighting, candles – check. Dinner that you spent a whopping five hours slaving over – check. You had gone over this checklist in your head about six times now but it didn't seem enough. Everything needed to be absolutely perfect. It wasn't an anniversary or birthday, although you know Yoongi might momentarily suspect so when he walks in and sees your usual cluttered apartment so romantically decorated. Perhaps it was the marathons of dramas you've been binging lately or perhaps you were just hit with the lovebug, but you craved romance.

It wasn't that your relationship with Yoongi wasn't great. It definitely was. Your personalities fit together like a glove, you got along with each others friends and families, you made each other happy. You were … comfortable. And while the two of you had some memorably heated moments, it's been a long time since you felt that spark of excitement in your relationship. You didn't blame Yoongi though. Being one out of seven members of the biggest music group in the world at the moment, his mind was always preoccupied – recording songs, producing songs, learning choreography, filming videos and comeback appearances, putting on concerts, etc. You didn't begrudge him his job and you certainly didn't expect him to have the energy to initiate anything extra into your relationship.

So that's why you're going to do it instead. Tonight.

You have a three-part plan of action. First? Dinner. You've spent the majority of the week watching YouTube videos and cooking programs on cable, looking up and purchasing the necessary ingredients and utensils to make the greatest plate of carbonara that Yoongi has ever tasted. Second? A romantic movie. You've converted your living room into the ultimate cuddle area. Both couches have been rearranged and pushed against the wall. You've lined the width of your floor with pillows and blankets and bowls of snacks that you know he enjoys. You even rented a new release that you've heard is super romantic – The Sun Is Also a Star. And third? Well, after the cuddle session, being pressed up against Yoongi for so long, you know your body and you know what it will be craving. That's why you've saved and used two of your paychecks to purchase the most expensive, scandalous yet sexy black lace lingerie you could find.

You were definitely getting lucky tonight.

After making sure everything was in place in the dining room, living room and bedroom, you go to the mirror to confirm you still look as good now as you did an hour ago when you first got ready. You've worked hard on your hair and makeup and put legitimate effort into your outfit – a dark yellow sundress with a flowing, loose black cardigan. The lingerie feels uncomfortable under your clothes but at the same time you feel a boost of confidence knowing you're wearing such sexy undergarments. You can't wait for Yoongi to see them.

There's a beeping on the other side of your door and your heart immediately skips. Yoongi is here. Typing in the passcode to your apartment. It's showtime.

“Y/N, why is it so dark in here?” you hear your boyfriend grumble softly, kicking his shoes off at the front door. You whirl around the corner, meeting him at the entrance of the dining room. You take satisfaction in watching his eyes widen, moving up and down your body before settling on your face. “Why are you so dressed up? Did I forget plans or something?”

You giggle nervously. “No, I just felt like getting dolled up.”

You wait with bated breath for him to compliment you. Tell you that you look beautiful, that you look nice, that your hair looks shiny or your skin looks dewy. Something, anything. Instead, he shuffles past you into the dining room, tossing a plastic bag onto the table. You swallow down the hurt. It's not in his nature to be affectionate but you're determined to have him swooning over you by the end of the night.

“I was craving some Chinese so I got us a few dishes. What do you want?” he asks, popping open boxes. You frown, watching as he moves away some of the fine China you've set out to spread his takeout containers.

“Yoongi, I told you not to bring anything. I made us dinner,” you say, motioning toward the big bowl of pasta and plate of steaming bread sticks in the center of the table. His eyes move over the carbonara before he looks down at his sweet and sour chicken.

“I just had pasta yesterday. Can you put it in the fridge? I'll take some back to the dorms to eat tomorrow.”

Part 1 – officially crashed and burned. You stare at him for a few hard seconds, mentally wishing that the damn Chinese food would be spoiled so he wouldn't touch it. But from the way he happily plops himself down onto one of the chairs, yanks apart his disposable chopsticks and digs in like it's the best food he's ever had in his life, you give up hope. Fixing yourself a small portion of pasta, you sit across from him, stealing quick glances at his plate. The Chinese does look delicious but what romantic dinner has ever been served with sweet and sour chicken?  He might not be eating the food you cooked, but you can still enjoy the romantic atmosphere together.

Almost as soon as you sit down, Yoongi hops up off of his seat, jogging over to the switch panel and flipping them all on. The sudden brightness hits you like a punch to the gut and you wince, dropping your fork. You've suddenly lost your appetite. Yoongi sighs in satisfaction as he sits back down and without a word, dives back into his food.

Okay. That's okay. It was just a few candles. This night is not ruined. You may not have gotten him with the food, but you can hook him in with the romantic movie and cuddles, you're sure of it. After the two of you finish your meal, you move to the living room. You notice Yoongi is frowning as he takes in the layout.

“What's going on with the couches?”

You flash him a grin, nodding toward the floor. “I thought we could stretch out and get comfortable on the floor while we watch a movie.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “I've just finished four hours of practice. My back is killing me and you want to lay on the floor?”

A bubble of annoyance rises up. Why is he fighting you on everything? “I put like four layers of blankets and pillows down, Yoongi. You won't feel the floor, trust me.”

With a disgruntled huff of acceptance, he throws himself down ungracefully. You mentally count to ten. He's either going to get some love or get some ass-kicking tonight and right now, you're not sure which one. After pressing play on the blu-ray machine, you lay down next to Yoongi. You half expect him to throw another wrench in your plan by pushing you away but he's full of surprises, fingers gripping you around the waist and tugging you against him.

You sigh happily. Maybe there's hope for the night after all.

“Oh! I've seen this movie already.”

Okay, maybe not.

You groan loudly, tilting your chin to stare at your boyfriend in disbelief. He frowns at you. “Why are you looking at me like that? My laptop died on the flight home last week so I watched this film to pass the time. It's not that good.”

“Why would you watch a romance movie by yourself?” you ask, restraining yourself from using the vicious tone that waits dormant at the base of your throat.

“I didn't watch it alone. Jin watched it with me.”  Oh my god. Jin was getting more romance out of your boyfriend than you were? Yoongi suddenly emits a gasp, finger pointing at the television screen where he has pulled up the On Demand menu. “Detective Pikachu is already out on digital? I'm renting this one!”

You're wearing a dress and expensive lingerie for … Pokemon? You sit up abruptly, moving your bewildered gaze to your boyfriend. You didn't expect him to initiate the romance, no, but you expected him to be smart enough to catch on that you were. A candlelit dinner with Italian food? A romantic movie and your girlfriend dressed to the nines in her own apartment for no reason? Have you always been dating the largest idiot in the world or is this a new development?

Yoongi glances up at you, meeting your furious stare. His eyes shift down to your choice of clothing and you think maybe – just maybe – for one moment, he's going to use that creative brain of his and put everything together.

“You and Pikachu kind of match right now,” he chuckles, pointing to the red blush on your cheeks and the yellow of your dress. “Y/N, I choose you!”

“Oh my god,” you mouth silently, slumping to the floor next to him. You watch in stupid amazement as he turns up the volume of the television and throws the remote next to him, another satisfied smile on his face. Seeing the bowls of snacks lined up, he grabs a few and sets them down in front of him. Plucking a strawberry from a bowl, you can't help but feel defeated when he tosses the entire thing into his mouth in one go. You had plans for those strawberries. You had daydreams and visions of seductively biting an end off, of slowly and sexily crawling over to him and gently feeding him the rest. It was then that he would toss you over his shoulder, take you to your room and toss you onto the bed. It was then that he would find the lingerie.

Part two of the plan? Obliterated.

Despite actually having a genuine love for Pokemon and a desire to see Detective Pikachu, you begin to get restless about forty minutes into the film. Yoongi is engrossed, eyes glued to the screen as he blindly reaches for the snack bowls and throws handfuls of whatever he can reach into his mouth. Instead of watching the movie, you've been imagining new scenarios that involve getting Yoongi into the bedroom. Okay, the scenarios went a little beyond just getting him into the bedroom. All of your hard thinking has left you anxious, the lingerie suddenly feeling suffocating. This needs to happen. Now.

“Yoongi,” you whine, gripping his upper arm. He hums in response. “Can we finish watching this tomorrow?”

He frowns. “We're more than halfway through. Why would we stop?”

“I want to go to bed.”

His eyebrows lift questioningly. “So go lay down. I'll be in whenever the movie is finished. I don't think there's too much left.”

Wow. He really is dumb. Yoongi has been your first relationship so you weren't sure – does every woman have to work this hard to get some from their man or is it just you? You decide to stop playing around. He's obviously incapable of grasping any of your attempts to be sexy and coy.

“No, Yoongi. I don't want to go to sleep. I want to go to bed. With you.”

That get his attention. His head snaps over in your direction so quickly that worry he might have given himself whiplash. There's a faint dusting of pink tinging his cheeks and you giggle inwardly, relieved that you've managed to crack whatever stone wall he's had up all night. It's not as if the two of you haven't had sex before – oh, definitely not. You've been together for years and have done it many, many times. You have never been so straightforward with him about it, though. Feeling bold by how flustered he is, you reach over him for the remote, wordlessly turning the television off before lifting yourself to your feet. He watches you closely, accepting the hand you offer to help him off of the ground. When you're both standing, you take advantage of your grip on his fingers and lead him to your bedroom.

This is it – the grand finale. There's absolutely no chance of ruining this. Yoongi is a hot-blooded man who has the same cravings and needs as every other living, breathing male in this world.

You push him gently onto your bed. He sits on the edge, resting back on his elbows. He watches you intently. His heavy, hooded gaze is like electricity, filling you with jolts of desire and contentedness. This is what you wanted. This is the feeling, the excitement, that you've been craving.  Leaning down into him, placing your palms next to his elbows, you catch his lips with yours. It starts off chaste, pulling away every few seconds for quick, little pecks. But after a few seconds, the aching between your legs begins to intensify and you decide that you're done with being soft. The kiss deepens, a moan vibrating from Yoongi's chest as you slide your tongue against his. You feel his hands grip your waist, massaging the skin of your hips through the fabric of your dress before his fingers start to dance downward. Pulling away breathlessly, you grin down at him.

Your cardigan goes first, tossing it haphazardly somewhere in the corner of your room. You make of slow show of unbuttoning the straps of your dress, keeping eye contact, doing your best to be the most seductive woman Yoongi has ever met. You know that you weren't his first, or his second or even his third. But you want to be the one who makes him forget about everyone that came before you. Your dress drops to your feet. You feel triumphant when his eyes widen, moving slowly down your body as if he was taking in every single detail. You watch as the corners of his lips turn upward. You close your eyes. This is the part where he completely ravishes you.

He laughs.

He laughs hard.

It's like a balloon pops and you start to deflate, your eyes snapping open in hurt and surprise. Yoongi lays back on the bed, arms wrapped around his stomach as if the sight of you in lingerie is so funny that it causes him pain. You look down at yourself, at the swell of your breasts encased with satin, lace and ribbons. Was it that funny? Did he not find you beautiful enough to pull something like this off?

You watch as Yoongi continues to laugh, absorbed in his own amusement. The sound of his guffaws are like punches to the gut, over and over and over again. Though you've never voiced it out loud, you've always felt a touch of insecurity in your relationship. He was Min Yoongi. He was Suga. He should have supermodels or equally beautiful idol girls standing beside him. Despite that, he always had a way of making you feel pretty, like you had something that no other girl in the world had.

But now? Now you question everything. Would he laugh at a supermodel if she stood here in lingerie? Would he laugh at any of his frustratingly beautiful ex-girlfriends?

Feeling like he has maxed out your hurt tolerance, you shamefully retreat into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind you. Your first order of business was getting out of the frilly contraption, the complete waste of two paychecks. The second was wiping every bit of product from your face. If he didn't think you were beautiful, why should you even try?

Making quick work of the lingerie, you whip it into the corner, wondering what the most effective way to burn it would be. You change into a normal pair of panties and toss on an old, baggy BTS concert tee that you use for pajamas. It isn't until you're washing your face that you realize you're crying.

There's a timid knock on the door. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

You ignore him, the sound of his voice propelling you to scrub your face even harder. When you pull the cloth away and look up into the mirror, you wince at your own reflection. Wet and puffy eyes with skin tinged red from scrubbing it nearly raw. It only makes you feel uglier and you can't help the cry that slips out.

There's another knock on the door, quicker this time. When you still don't answer, he tries the doorknob to no avail. “Y/N, are you crying? Open the door for me.”

You contemplate spending the night in the bathroom. The tub is nice and spacious. There's a pile of clean towels on top of the hamper than you could use for blankets, padding and pillows. You already ate so you won't get hungry. This could work – you could stay here until Yoongi has to leave for his schedules tomorrow morning.

“Are you really not going to open the door?” Yoongi demands, the knocks turning into pounds with his fists. “I'll just kick the door in. You know I can.”

You huff in annoyance. There goes your plans for a sleepover in the bathroom. Others might think Yoongi is bluffing but you know what he's capable of doing and you know he won't mind ruining your door if it inconveniences him too much. You exhale deeply before flipping the lights off and throwing the door open, studiously ignoring your boyfriend who has to jump out of your way as you storm past him. You can feel him following close behind as you hastily retreat to the living room, throwing yourself down in the middle of the blankets. You turn your back to him, tucking the thickest blanket up under your chin. You hear Yoongi sigh from behind you.

“Are you that angry with me? I'm sorry that I laughed,” he apologizes. You continue to ignore him, eyes blurred with tears as they fixate on the fibers of your blanket. He groans in frustration, reaching out to grip your shoulder. As much resistance as you put forth, he still manages to twist you to face him. When he sees your face full of tears, he drops his grip in surprise. “Jagiya, what is this?”

“Jagiya, what is this?” you mock him in disbelief. You can't take it anymore. Seething, you sit up, wiping your eyes before fixing your glare on him. “Your girlfriend is absolutely and understandably fucking devastated because she not only worked SO hard to plan a perfect, romantic night with her boyfriend – which he ruined every fucking chance that he got, I might add – but when she tried to surprise him by attempting to spice things up in the bedroom with really fucking expensive lingerie, he laughs in her face! I wanted to look and feel sexy for you, Yoongi, and you laughed at me. Hard. So yes, I am that angry with you.”

You throw yourself down again, this time pulling the blanket over your head. Yoongi sighs heavily. “Jagiya, talk to me.”

“Go home, Yoongi. I don't want to talk to you anymore tonight.”

Exploding on him released a lot of your anger but now you just feel sad. Every time your head replays the image of him rolling across the bed in laughter at your expanse, your chest throbs and a fresh round of tears build behind your eyes. You feel Yoongi plop down beside you, arm reaching around your shoulders to turn you once again. You throw an elbow to dodge his attempt. “I'm not going home. We're going to talk about this. If you insist on sleeping here tonight, I'm going to sleep right here next to you whether you like it or not.”

“Do whatever you want. I'm not the one who will have a stiff back at dance practice tomorrow.”

“I thought you said you put enough layers of blankets down that I won't feel it?” he jokes. You decide to ignore him. He sighs heavily again. The blankets shift and you feel his head rest against the middle of your back. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And I didn't mean to ruin everything you planned – you should have told me we were going to be romantic tonight.”

You scoff. “I shouldn't have to tell you that we're going to be romantic. Romance isn't something you plan, it's something you feel.”

“Well then, what did you plan for if not romance?”

He's got you there. You knew Yoongi wasn't the most romantic man in the world but you still tried to force it on him. Maybe this is your karma. Maybe this is a wake-up call. If he doesn't feel any kind of romance for you … why are you still together?

“Yoongi,” you croak, blinking away more tears. “I want to ask you a question and I want you to be completely honest with me – do you still love me?”

His head pops up from the floor. Not even a full five seconds pass by before he's forcefully gripping you around your shoulders, pinning you flat against the floor as he hovers above you. His eyes pierce you with the most intense gaze you've ever received from him. “I can't believe you even have to ask me that.”

He seems almost angry. “What am I supposed to think? Okay, maybe I planned for romance, but did you have to brush off every single thing I tried to do with you tonight? It just seems like you're not that interested anymore.”

He groans, moving into a sitting position. His hand rubs down his face, a habit of his that you know usually comes out when he's frustrated. “I'm interested in you. I love you. I brushed off everything you planned because to be honest, that's not us. That's not who you and I are, it's not our relationship.”

You frown. “But that doesn't-”

“You love Chinese take-out, you love Pokemon and you've mentioned many times how ridiculously silly and overpriced you think fancy lingerie is. Do you think romance is defined by a certain meal, genre of movie or undergarments? If you ask me, we would have had a perfectly romantic night without all of your planning.”

He renders you speechless because – holy crap – he's actually right. Okay, maybe the two of you have your lazy moments but when have you ever been unhappy in your relationship with Yoongi? He knows you. He knows what you like. He brought over Chinese and rented Detective Pikachu for you. In a weird, comfortable way … it's your own Yoongi kind of romance.

With a dramatic sigh, you turn towards him, scooting close. With his soft cat-like eyes, he gives you a gentle smile and you nearly swoon on the spot. “You're right. I'm sorry for being so cheesy tonight. I think all of those dramas I've been watching lately have gone to my head.”

He laughs, reaching out to pull you against him. “It wasn't a total waste. I really am going to tear that carbonara up tomorrow.”

You giggle in agreement, resting your head against his chest. Your eyes close in satisfaction of being so close and so relaxed with him after a night of pushing him away with stupid expectations. Although you feel a million times better, there's something that still causes your chest to ache when you think about it. “Yoongi? I know that you laughed at the lingerie because you thought I was joking but … I mean, you laughed really hard. Did I look that ridiculous? I didn't look … good?”

He laughs again and you pull back to punch him. Still chuckling, his large fingers envelope your fist, pushing it down. “Jagiya, stop fishing for compliments.”

“I'm not fishing for compliments,” you argue defiantly. “A girl genuinely tries to be sexy for her boyfriend and he laughs at her? That's enough to make her feel ugly. I just want you to confirm whether or not you think I'm ugly.”

“It's like I said before – that lingerie was not you. It didn't suit you. Of course you looked gorgeous and tempting. However-” he pauses, reaching down under the blanket. You gasp when his hand grips your ass, moving you impossibly closer until even a feather couldn't come between your bodies. “This is what I find sexiest. Just you. No fancy underwear. Well … no underwear at all, really, if you're giving me the choice.”

You slap him playfully, not bothering to fight the stupid grin on your face. He buries his face in your neck. You can feel his smile against your skin.

“We should finish what we started earlier,” he whispers, his lips peppering soft kisses along your collarbone, his fingers dancing along the waistband of your panties. You hum in pleasure, craning your neck to give him better access. An embarrassing moan escapes you when he sucks the skin a bit harder.

“Detective Pikachu? Sure, I'll grab the remote,” you joke, twisting as if you're going to move away. He grunts, pulling on your waist until you're straddling his hips. You lean down, ghosting your lips against his.

“This romantic enough for you?” he asks, his mouth moving softly against yours. You narrow your eyes to glare at him.

“Yoongi, shut up,” you mutter as you throw the blanket over your heads and lean back down to thoroughly ravish him this time. Min Yoongi would be doing a lot of swooning tonight.

[thethirdwheel404]

Med Rewatch Series (#1)

Right, monkey brain said no sleep no rest, only suffering at the hands of med.

I am going to start with the first episode of S2: Soul Care. Reasoning? I need to check if Latham references Ava in his first interaction with Connor.

If my memory serves me right, when Connor is passed over to Latham for his fellowship, Latham says that he was not his first choice. In fact, his first choice was a brilliant surgeon from South Africa. In the first episode of S2, a season where Ava Bekker is only introduced with one line at the end of the last episode.

If I remember correctly and Latham does actually say that in the first ep of s2, it will be huge for the continuity (and my theory that I came up with today, if you’re interested in following this you should really read that really long post that came a little before this where the basis of the theory is laid out). 

Also in rewatching this I see more of Sarah which, again, I have not seen in two years, and she was the reason I became invested in the show, and the reason I stopped watching after she left.

And all of this even before I start the episode.

There are so many emotions and thoughts running through my brain it literally hurts. I think i’m getting a headache. I’m already really regretting this, this cannot be healthy for me.

(btw, this will basically be a train of thought type thing, I’ll do my best to keep it coherent)

- omg its starting

- i completely forgot how s1 ended but its not importnat in anyway

- just, why are they in a helicopter

- how fast does the episode move ive forgotten and i need to know

-JESUS CHRIST SO DRAMATIC

- THE BEGINNING WITH WILL WHY

- it is at this point where I apologize to all those who made it this far bc we’re literally not even 30 seconds in yet

- i just have a lot of med thoughts

- oh god save me

- i am laughing hysterically

- JESUS CHRIST THE APRIL TB STORYLINE AND TATE WTF

- god that feels like a lifetime ago it was relevant holyshit

-remember when she was pregnant?

- literally what have I missed

- side note, i really like the cup april drinks out of.

-THERE SHE IS

-SARAH

-SHE’S HERE

-and she’s a barista

-literally wtf is this show

-and the dramatic music is still going literally chill man god

-THE WAY SARAH SMILES HOLY SHITTTT come on man there was literally no way i’d survive this but fuck not even a minute in...

- okay but i never understood charles’ family scenario but this is already too fucking long for a minute in so i hope we can just skip past that

-hahahah sharon’s fucking divorce? holy shit, this is too dramatic for the first ep literally save me (at least she acts well)

-yeah the one thing I will say about med (thats a lie ive already said a hundred but yk) is that for the crap storylines and all, the actors take what they’re given and give it their all and i appreciate it so much

-the helicopter’s number is N365UCC and just... succ

-ethans bird (!)

-also the fact that’s so big for ethan to be chief resident is so weird to me. like the last medical drama I watched was greys and they are all like grizzled veterans and have been doing that stuff for actual decades and i tend to put med and greys on like the same level bc they are the only medical dramas ive watched but.. holy crap the people on med are so young?? half their main cast is med students and residents. when nearly every main character on greys is a department head. its wild.

-proud of ethan. proud of my boy (did you know that adam jacobs who played aladdin on broadway was in a s3 episode? fun facts) (fun fact: did you know that ava is the only main character on the show who’s status is now deceased? I’ll shut up now.)

-oh my god i say roland buck III’s name and GOD noah jesus

- i find noah incredibly annoying, especially bc he tries to overshadow reese (my fav) but also just bc hes spoiled [that thing that said that one of the biggest mistakes med made was not having sarah get the emergency med residency at the end of s1 comes to mine, and the fact that noah got his residency easy peasy] - but, i will say that the moment at the end of this season where noah and reese dance together at the party is very adorable. (pre reesker brain showing lmao I really did love sarah with my whole heart) (moreover my snapchat memories were filled with just recordings of reese scenes lmaooooo)

-okay at this point I need to stop once i get to the potential ava thing bc what is happening we’re not even two minutes in why is this so long. (so many thoughts)

- i find will annoying but,,, he is kind of nice to look at. and what i mean is like facial acting (i am a lesbian). like. just. don’t speak. and when he’s being a good character he’s fine. it’s very few and very far between ig

-natalie annoys me so much and shes only had one line, and it wasn’t even a character line, it was mainly exposition.

-EW

-FUCKING EW

-ITS CONNOR HE’S HERE. god i forgot what he looked like in red scrubs and his poofy hair. child compared to s3 and s4. hopefully we see latham soon so we all don’t have to suffer through this. and he looks so angsty. he definetly glowed up in the later seasons.

- i have no clue how to spell definetly. I am guessing literally everytime.

-latham please come and end this all.

-oh haha there’s downey hes dead.

-okay so i actually watched s1 after i watched s2 which is so weird to think about. like that means that i liked s2 so much that i BOUGHT THE DVD FOR S1. yeah. I liked it that much (it really only means I was that much of a simp for sarah). but it also means that technically i watched s1 after i met ava?? like i honestly had NO CLUE what was in my future. did young me ever think she was going to stay up late at night, avoiding history hw while analyzing a defunct character from this show on a whim? a character i was super annoyed with at the beginning? who has no become a huge part of my personality? honestly? no. no she did not.

-and the story with downey was so jarring. and the story with zanetti. like i think i first started watching with the first ep of s2 (the one im talking about rn) and i was a bit lost. so going back and watch s1 to like connect the dots. but i never expected the dots to look like that. its like each season of this show is a completely different show from all the other seasons. like i’ve said before, this show is a headache. but literally latham please come and end this for now.

-GOD CONNOR LOOKS SO YOUNG WHAT THE HELL thats so weird lmaooooo

- like i had absolutely no clue who downey was going into this. and they they started talking like ‘oh yeah he killed his attending’ and i was just like ‘damn bro ill cheers to that’

- that’s literally ava’s first line actually. “i heard your girlfriend went insane and you murdered your attending.” - which was why she was hated at first. that was literally her first line to connor which is like, so hilariously rude that it was instantly iconic.

-also HAHAHAHAH CUE FUCKING ANGST ABOUT CONNOR HURTING EVERYONE AROUND HIM WTF BRO THE EFFECT YOU HAVE ON PEOPLE

- but i’m also sad now. --- “I heard your girlfriend went insane.” Oh. Oh, sweetie. Ava... No. --- but why does s2 ava (all two lines) foreshadow s4 ava in so many ways. like literally what were the writers on.

-baghdad.

-ah yes. the return of baghdad. been a long time since i heard that one, but it is easily one of my favorite running things about med. its just a little detail but the nick name is like perfect. (when i read fanfic where the chars are actually doing doctor stuff in the hospital it makes me light up) the WORLD BUILDINGGGGG. but whatever

-this is the girl who has the fake baby right? that was a really good ep (bc sarah content. can you see my favorites? for the same reason the one where the girl has split personalities easily ranks high with me.) oh wait this is the one where the dad like dies but then comes back for a split second to see his grand child. there’s not really a lot I can say about that, but the fact that i remember it vividly is... weird.

-okay but I actually love the ED in this show. I love how the show is centered around the ED and not the OR like greys. its fast paced, you see a lot about the characters really quickly (one of the reason’s connor’s intro to the hospital in the pilot is certified iconic in my mind [his interactions with will are gold]). the team works well together (usually, when things are good. - which is another reason I hated the show more as time went on. The personal lives interfered more and more and more with their work as time went on. it got so annoying). but like right here will just calls maggies name and maggie is just On It. I love it. I love the fast pace. it’s why this show got me to come back. so many things happen, it overloads my brain, like the way a video game works y occupying all of your attention.

-when is the dad gonna pass out i’m just waiting

-AHAHAHAHAHA JEFF NOOOOO. what even was the deal with jeff that storyline annoyed me so much I never got it. he was friends with nat’s husband (who died) and they were both named Jeff? and she actually ended up getting with Jeff a few times?

- the more you watch med and see how the characters get with each other, the more jaded you become

-omg they’re transferring the girl to the bed i love it when they count

-maggie was great but from what i heard/read they ruined her character too??? just not the same

-lmao only real g’s remember the chicago fire backdoor med pilot (if you want an explanation ask me lmao it was a ride)

- i was a real med simp bc I bought that episode on apple video.

-ahahaha this is so stupid. Jeff tries to do things and Will (being a fucking asshole and jealous, doesnt’ let him). he’s a med student let him fucking learn. also i remember why i hated will

-okay but if you look at greys vs. med, greys literally gives their med students no rights. scratch that. they give they’re interns little to no rights. (i only watched the last three seasons bc lesbian, but in those seasons they introduce the bottom of the totem pole, the sub I’s, who are a step ahead of med students, yet they are jokes on the show.) its just a weird juxtaposition is all.

-”lungs are wet.” dramatic music intensifies.

-OKAY BUT I LITERALLY FORGOT NATALIE SPECIALIZED IN PEDS. LIKE I COMPLETELY 100% FORGOT. HOLY SHIT THATS SO FUNNY i can’t believe in my mass hyperfixation i forgot, just more proof that she doesn’t deserve anything.

-why did will make nat do that call? also idk why but is it weird to anyone else when the characters call each other but just.. their names.

-ahahahah i laugh literally everytime i remember that will is supposed to be in charge like he is threatened by anything that MOVES. (also more juxtapositon to greys bc here the attendings are treated as a joke!)

- hly shit i just remember monday mourning and god damn the angst literally never takes a day off but whatever.

- i dont usually get like this but the dad’s acting here is actually making me sad lol. Usually i get annoyed when family members get emotional (im weird uhhhh)

-why did we have to watch the tube being put in for so long - med is so dramatic this fucking show whyyyy

- i bet u the dad is gonna pass out

-oh ig not oops

-OKAY FUCK ME THAT LITERALLY ONLY TOOK US TO THE TITLES HOW DO I HAVE THESE MANY FUCKING THOUGHTS.

-wait latham introduction we may just be able to call it here.

-haha i fucking hate him (connor). he just... comes off so fake-charming its annoying. i cant get over it lmao

-okay but literally every gives connor shit and I am here for it. Latham: “did you kill him?”

- it is literally so funny but annoy how connor throws hands with literally everyone in his path (like dude just chill come onnn)

-okay. okay. okay. finally the part i was waiting for.

- Latham: I preferred a young woman from Groote Schuur, but I was outvoted.

That’s an actual quote, from Latham. For those who are wondering, Groote Schuur is a famous hospital in, you guessed it, South Africa. This is where I’m calling the episode. This is all I needed.

I just want to restate. This is the first episode of season 2. Ava Bekker is introduced to the show in the last episode of season 2. What does this mean, my friends? It means everything.

For those of you who stuck through to the end, I am very thankful. Here we have probably the first piece of evidence to my theory, at least chronologically.

I, personally, think it’s absurd I remembered this point, but I did. That point, that line, presently, watching this episode with no idea of what the future holds, is only there to tell us that Latham and Connor are not going to agree. But this is the single greatest piece of foreshadowing med has ever done.

Med has never planned anything. I feel confident when I say that. Look at their storylines. They are literally on fire, and every decision the characters make reads like the writers going ‘we have no idea how we made it this far, we thought we would get stopped like ten steps ago.’

When has med ever planned things more than a few episodes in advanced, honestly? Almost never, and going a full season sitting on a plot point, that’s major. This was the first time med has ever planned something miles in advance.

In all honestly, yes I am probably giving the med writers a lot more credit than they deserve. It’s quite possible that as the season progressed they just decided connor needed a new love interest or at least a new dynamic, so they could have just easily looked back and thought ‘oh, hey, here’s a fun little thing we said earlier in the season, wouldn’t it be fun if it paid off?’ That could be true.

Here’s why it probably isn’t. The med writers have no respect for their own continuity. you really think that, in order to come up with a whole new character, they went back to the first episode of the season and paid off a line that is said in less than 2 seconds? no way. Bull. Shit.

honestly, it is probably equally unlikely that either of these things happened. The med writers don’t look back at their story. It’s true, but they also don’t plan things in advance either.

here’s the thing, the more i write, the more absurd it starts to sound. Yeah. Sure. the med writers sat on a character for an entire season, that’s totally a thing that happened and not sarcasm. When pigs fly. everyone knows med is impulsive and messy. But what I am saying is that they planned one thing. One thing.

Ava has an accent. That was a commitment. A pretty uncommon one too. South Africa is such an out of the box choice that god its barely on the map. It asks a lot of someone to act hard while also doing an uncommon accent. If the med writers just decided they needed to give connor a new dynamic, they could have made it a n y o n e. Yeah, sure it would have been nice to have the latham dynamic with the new character, but it would have been so much easier to just create a new character that doesn’t have such a commitment. We all know people who play opposite of Connor Rhodes do not stay around that long.

There is absolutely no reason Connor’s s3 love interest had to be the girl from South Africa. It could have literally been anyone. They could have kept Robin on. They could have made the new character not have so many specific requirements.

At this point, I’m pushing this really hard. Yeah, obviously Ava was planned from the beginning of s2. She had to be. It’s way too specific to be anything else.

What I’m pointing out here is med has never done that before. (at least to my knowledge, if i’m wrong please tell me i don’t want to be a fool) They have never had such a concrete plan for a character, so much as to tease them a full season before they were introduced.

I’m saying, that Ava was special. She was the only character who was teased ahead of her arrival. The one who they knew they wanted, other than the originals, and honestly saying the ‘knew what they wanted to do with the originals’ is being generous. But Ava was different. They had big plans for Ava.

It’s undeniable. Ava was the only character who was planned and teased ahead of her arrival. Ava has such a different style and character than anyone else on the show. She was always planned to be, even when she was just being teased, a rival to connor, meaning she could stand her own against him (or without him).

Now of course, the med writers forgot this when writing s4 and s5. But for the purposes of the important things, all that really matters are the two mentions in s2, and what happens in s3. (for the theory at least).

In conclusion: think about how odd it is that Ava was the only character that was planned over the course of the show. Like sure the characters are planned, but never this far in advance. Med writers don’t really plan anything. I would be shocked if they did anything but through a dart at a spinning wheel. But they had plans for Ava, and they had plans for s3, when she was good.

Think about how odd it is that the med writers had a character planned from the start of s2, that they sat on for a whole season. They never, ever did something so slow and deliberate. Never. It goes against their formula. Like a fucking shark, they have to be moving or they die, at least in their heads. But Ava was always a change to the formula. They had a plan for s3.

that’s it for now. we will see what happens when i watch the last episode of s2.

read the next parts:

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra

[dramaworlduk]

  Drama recommendations!

Part 2!!

<-Part 1

11. The Legend Of The Blue Sea

There’s history, mythology, mystery, romance, and comedy- what more could you want?! Heo Joon-jae (Lee Min-ho) is the son of a rich businessman who becomes a handsome and clever con-man after his parents' divorce. Shim Cheong (Jun Ji-hyun) is a mermaid who becomes lost and runs into him. First only sticking by her for material gain, Joon-Jae slowly realises his feelings are a little stronger than that. Their tale is juxtaposed with the parallel story of their Joseon era incarnations, town head Kim Dam-ryeong and the mermaid Se-hwa. Cheong is absolutely adorable as she learns to adapt to human life, and strikes up friendships with some of the strangest people. Joon-Jae is a scumbag with a heart and a tragic past and it is very difficult not to love them both. The added element of mystery with a murderer on the loose and Cheong’s attempt to hide her identity make for a full and intriguing story that you won’t want to take your eyes off of.

Year: 2016

Where Can I Watch?: KissAsian

Episodes: 20, 1hr length

12. Pinocchio

Choi In-Ha (Park Shin-Hye) hiccups every time she lies. Choi Dal-Po’s (Lee Jong-Suk) life was ruined by the lies the media spread about his family. He is adopted by In-Ha’s family and they grow up together, battling back their feelings for each other and the cutthroat business of reporting which they’ve both found themselves pursuing. It explores the value and falldowns of honesty and how the media can be manipulated and faked. Friends->lovers plus lovely family bonds and the importance of empathy. Very good drama, emotive and charming, 100% recommend.

Year: 2014

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 20, 1hr length

13. The Heirs

This ones a really good one if you’re starting off, as it’s not too heavy or complicated. Kim Tan (Lee Min-Ho),  a wealthy heir to a large Korean conglomerate, and Cha Eun-Sang (Park Shin-Hye) meet in America when Eun-Sang goes to visit her sister. After a failed encounter, Kim Tan offers to let Eun-Sang stay with him before she goes back to Korea. Despite being engaged to Yoo Rachel (Kim Ji-won), a fellow heiress, Kim Tan soon falls in love with Eun-sang. When Eun-Sang returns to Korea, Kim Tan also returns.  Tan’s ex best friend Choi Young-Do (Kim Woo-Bin) notices Tan’s softspot for the new girl and begins to pursue her too. It explores teenage trials and tribulations in the lives of the rich and the poor, as well as pressures from the adult world. 

Year: 2013

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 20, 1hr length

14. Hymn Of Death

This three-parter channels Titanic with its tragic love story and historical setting. You go into this knowing there will be heartbreak, but it still hurts so much!!  It is based on the true story of the tragic romance between Joseon's first soprano Yun Sim-deok (Shin Hye-Sun) and a genius playwright Kim Woo-jin (Lee Jong-Suk). It is heartbreaking to see the two fall for eachother knowing they cannot be together for far too many reasons. It spans a number of years and their love remains strong throughout. The quotes in this from Woo-jin’s real journals are beautiful too and add to the real life story. A must watch, if not for the story, then for Shin Hye-Sun and Lee Jong-Suk’s acting which is fantastic throughout.

Year: 2018

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 3, 1hr length

15. My Love From Another Star

Alien Do Min-Jun (Kim Soo-Hyun) whose time on earth is nearly up meets Famous actress Cheong Song-Yi (Jun Ji Hyun) as she moves in next-door to him. He finds himself entangled in Song-yi's crazy and unpredictable situations, and finds out that she looks like a young girl he fell in love with in the Joseon era. Song-Yi’s best friend Lee Hee-kyung (Park Hae-jin), is in love with her, but his older brother Lee Jae-kyung (Shin Sung-rok) has a dark secret and will get rid of anyone who finds out about it or gets in his way. This drama can be very intense at times wih the threat of Jae-kyung, but Song-Yi’s sweet, comedic personality serves for some very humourous moments too.

Year: 2014

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 21, 1hr length

16. W: Two Worlds

Bad boy with a heart of gold?? Comic book world??? Violence and mystery?? Adorable, loyal sidekick?? Badass doctor who can travel between worlds?? LEE JONG SUK LOOKING HOT WITH A GUN?? W has it all. The premise is new and exciting, making for unpredictable plot twists and constant need for questions to be answered. W is a fictional bestselling webtoon in South Korea centering around the dramatic life of Kang Chul (Lee Jong-suk). Authored by Oh Seong-moo (Kim Eui-sung), somewhere along the line W became a living universe. The gap between the two worlds is crossed as Seong-moo's daughter, resident cardiothoracic surgeon Oh Yeon-joo (Han Hyo-joo) gets dragged into the webtoon world and is immediatel faced with saving Kang Chul’s life. Only, Kang Chul wasn’t meant to live. If you do one thing this year it should be to WATCH W. It’ll do you good, I promise.

Year: 2016

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 16, 1hr length

17. While You Were Sleeping

A girl who sees the future in her dreams, and a seemingly unconnected new neighbour are brought together through a series of events. It is legal drama crossed with fantasy as Jung Jae-Chan (Lee Jong-suk) starts a new job at the prosecutor’s office despite his clumsy, goofy personality. Jae-Chan dreams about an accident which causes much grief and loss, and decides he must try to stop it, and in doing-so his connection with Nam Hong-Joo (Bae Suzy) is strengthened and their relationship blossoms. There are some great dynamics here, not only between Jae-Chan and Hong-Joo, but also with their friend Han Woo-Tak (Jung Hae-in), who begins to dream of the future too after his life is saved, and Choi Dam-Dong (Kim Won-hae) who is a funny but sweet father figure to Jae-Chan as he teaches him the ways of life as a prosecutor. Ruthless lawyer Lee Yu-Beom (Lee Sang-yeob)’s portayal is magnetic and captivating.

Year: 2017

Where Can I Watch?: KissAsian

Episodes: 32, 30min length

18. My ID Is Gangnam Beauty

Afraid of how her peers perceive her, Kang Mi-Rae (Im Soo-hyang) undergoes plastic surgery to stop worrying about her looks before she starts university. However, after a while at university people begin to label her as a ‘Gangnam plastic surgery monster’ as her appearance is a bit too obviously altered. Mi-rae struggles with her concerns of what people think about her, which has followed her around her whole life, in a stark contrast to Do Kyung-seok (Cha Eun-Woo), who does not care what others think. The general message of body positivity isn’t without its flaws, but it brings discussions of insecurity and societal standards to the forefront. The good messaging outweighs the flaws by far and there is also a fair bit of feminism going on, just keep track of Mi-rae’s T-shirt slogans! The relationship between Kyung-seok and Mi-rae is very sweet and shy, and Kyung-seok likes her regardless of what others think. Lighthearted but with an important message.

Year: 2018

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 16, 1hr length

19. She Was Pretty

Kim Hye-Jin’s (Hwang Jung-eum) childhood friend contacts her years later wishing to reconnect. However, upon meeting Ji Sung-joon (Park Seo-joon) does not recognise her, expecting her to appear like her younger self. Kim Hye-jin was a beautiful girl from a rich family, but after her family's publishing company went bankrupt, she experienced hardships then lost her beauty too. Ji Sung-joon was a shy, unattractive boy, but grows up as a handsome and successful editor. Ashamed to meet her first love and ruin his perception of her, Hye-jin asks her attractive best friend, Min Ha-ri (Go Joon-hee), to act as her once, then make up an excuse to never see Sung-joon again. Things get complicated when Hye-jin is assigned to work at The Most magazine publishing office where Sung-joon is the deputy chief editor. He openly mistreats and belittles her for her clumsy nature, not knowing that she was his real childhood friend. Kim Shin-Hyuk () is the second lead in this and his performace is fantastic. The growth between Sung-joon and Hye-jin is definitely worth watching and messages about beauty resonate well.

Year: 2015

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 16, 1hr length

20. Thirty But Seventeen

Although there are a fair few emotional moments, this show is still for the most part a light, heartwarming drama with little angst and struggle. Also, there are not really ny plausible second leads to confuse the romance storyline as Yoo Chan (Ahn Hyo-Seop) is Gong Woo-Jin’s (Yang Se-Jong) 19 year old nephew, and Kim Tae-Hyun has very little screen time. I feel this makes it a lot easier to connect to the main couple, who are ADORABLE. They are both still mentally 17, after Woo Seo-Ri (Shin Hye-Sun) was in a coma for 13 years, and Woo-Jin’s PTSD from the accident keeps him stuck on repeat. After waking from her coma, Seo-Ri returns to her old house, unaware that it is now under new ownership in the form of Woo-Jin’s family. There is still a lot of tropey goodness (living together!!), but the story and interactions feel fresh and unique, and the dynamic between Seo-Ri, Woo-Jin, Yoo Chan, and Jennifer (Ye Ji-Won) is enough to keep you watching as it’s so warm and pure. Not to mention the dog Paeng/Deok Gu!! I love them all so much and it’s just the sweetest!

Year: 2018

Where Can I Watch?: KissAsian

Episodes: 32, 30min length

[parkjmini]

untitled | jjk

fuckboy!jungkook  “but I expected too much from you” word count: 3175 warnings: explicit language, implied smut  genre: angst A N G S T ?? ?

a/n: my first non jimin scenario lmaooo yall i graduated high school now i dont know what to do w my life im broke and summer is here 

You were beginning to appear in his dreams and that thought alone, scared him. Jungkook remained blank on the outside majority of the time. He was the hardest person to read because he built barriers so high, no one can reach.

Jungkook felt numb when it came to love. He didn’t let anyone phase him, so when he felt the sudden small spark in his empty heart, he knew that he needed to stop seeing you before fireworks were created. It was dangerous, too much for him to handle.

He waited patiently for you outside your lecture, sweaty hands shoved into his front pockets, a single backpack strap on his left shoulder. As students poured into the campus, he grew more nervous knowing you were coming out any second.

“Hey Jungkook.” Some girls eyed the attractive boy and smiled flirtatiously. Jungkook was the biggest fuckboy frat in the entire district. Everyone knew his name and his penis, but no one knew his heart. 

He was the type to make up excuses to leave right after a hookup. He left girls high and dry. There were never any regular casual relationships. He’s never found the one girl who made him feel good enough to go back for more, except when he met you. 

You showed up to his extravagant frat parties one Saturday evening with a friend by your side. You’ve never been to one of Jungkook’s parties before, he would’ve recognized your face anywhere, but you weren’t impressed when you stepped through the door into the chaos. 

Jungkook’s best friend, Yugyeom, nudged his side as he also caught sight of the new girls that entered their house. “New meat.”

“I’ll pass.” He laughed and took one last look at you before he headed towards the kitchen. You were wearing a daring, black dress that took every confidence for you to wear out. Jungkook would never forget that night he met you, the specific encounter that stained his memories.

“First time?” He said nonchalantly as he poured more alcohol into his red cup. You appeared at his side, and he didn’t have to look back to feel your presences. 

“Are you talking to me?” Your voice was rather melodic, singing softly against the heavy tunes of dance music. 

He nodded and leaned against the island, watching as you picked up a cup to serve yourself a drink. His eyes wandered all across your body, almost ready to devour every part of it. 

“I suppose you fuck every girl who walks into one of your parties, that’s how you sort out the ones you haven’t fucked from campus yet.” Your comment caused him to cough, not expecting such an answer. 

“No, but that would be a more efficient method.” He chuckled, hearty and deep. He brushed the loose strands out of his eyes, so he could see more of you. The way your hair glittered under the fluorescent light. The way your cheekbones shimmered. The way your lips pouted cutely. 

“I’m not interested.” You smiled, mockingly, but Jungkook had to blink twice. The corner of your lips curved upward and you began walking away.

For some reason, he let you go. He watched as you disappeared in the crowd again and bodies merged into one big blur. Throughout that night, he couldn’t help, but search where you would be. He wanted to catch more glimpses of your beautiful face, but didn’t want to seem too obvious. 

Your face never left his head that night or the many other nights that followed. As you showed up more to his parties, he found it difficult to approach your standing figure. Unsure why, he didn’t let that feeling bother him.

One night you got so drunk that you slumped yourself all over him. “Hey Jungkook, why don’t you ever talk to me? I see how you look at me across the room.” Your words slurred into a big mess and your body turned into dead weight as you held onto him for support.

He was casually talking to Yugyeom, who laughed at how red Jungkook got from your sudden affection. “(Y/N), are you okay?” He had learned your name through mutuals.

“I’m fucking drunk, do I seem okay to you?” You groaned and pushed yourself to get off of him. However, he held onto your forearm to steady your limp body. “Do you want to lay down?” 

“Are you going to lay me down, Jungkook?” You smiled seductively and he stared back at you with innocent, confused deer-like eyes. 

For some strange reason, that was not his intentions. He wanted to fuck you, but there was no deep urge to. He wanted something else, yet still unsure to what it was. He also was not the type to take advantage of a girl like that. Those usually had the messiest outcomes and Jungkook has gone through enough to know that he didn’t like the drama.

“No, I was just going to tell you that my room is empty if you want to lay down.” Jungkook barely stuttered out. Offering his bed, however, was something new. Whenever there was a belligerently drunk girl at the party, he let them be and wander around. He felt the need to protect you because of how vulnerable your state was.

“Is the room spinning to you?” You giggled and Yugyeom took Jungkook’s drink from his hand.

“Alright, enough fun for you tonight, missy.” Yugyeom chimed and edged Jungkook to take you upstairs.

He held onto you tightly as he guided you to his room. He carefully opened the blankets for you to snuggle into his mattress. The room was dark, but he knew his way around the tattered clothes on the ground. 

“Thank you.” You whispered softly, before your eyelids fell over your glossy eyes. And he stared down at you, wondering what the foreign feeling was that set in his heart.

The next morning, you woke up in a different room and panicked to see guy sleeping in the bed next to you. You screamed, initially, waking up the guy in the other bed. His sleepy eyes opened as he registered the body that laid in his roommate’s bed.

“You’re not Jungkook.” He spoke, his voice hoarse and deep.

“Where am I?” 

“Shouldn’t I be the ones asking questions?” His black, fluffy hair stuck up in random directions. “I’m Jimin. You’re in Jungkook’s bed. In our shared room. In a fraternity house.” 

The name Jungkook rang in your ear as you hurried to check to see if your clothes were still on. They were and there was no indication of anyone sleeping with you last night. You grabbed your things and hurried out of the room. 

Jungkook laid crouched up on the couch, surrounded by trash and empty cups. His mouth was tight in a line and his head fell back on the arm rest. You were confused as to why he gave up his bed for you, but you quickly left the house before he noticed.

After that night, you approached him to thank him for the bed and while he was being snarky, you saw through his false persona. You’d never tell him, but you saw how his eyes nervously shifted. How his lips twitched. How his sentences were incoherent. How he repeatedly wiped his sweaty palms on his black jeans.

Before you knew it, you began waking up next to him in bed and your memories were filled with lustful nights with the local fratboy. It became a regular hook up, even to the point of establishing that you two wouldn’t fuck other people. 

That was when Jungkook started to realize what the strange feelings were that he always dismissed. He liked you and it was something that ran chills down his spine. 

As seconds passed before you burst out of the lecture doors, he recited the lines his head before he spoke them aloud. You were chatting with your friend as you walked out. She saw him first and pointed over to the boy who was patiently waiting for you.

Jungkook had come to see you after classes before, but he usually told you ahead of time. “Hey, what are you doing here? Econ classes are all the way across the campus.”

“I need to talk to you about something.”  He sounded more serious than he needed to be. The noise of his heartbeat droned out your question. He couldn’t focus, especially with how your lips parted beautifully. 

“I have another lecture soon..” You waved your hand in front of the dazed boy.

“I-I- how do I put this-- I’m -- I think we should stop what we’re doing.” Jungkook stammered over his words. It was the first time you’ve seen him this nervous and jumpy. 

You nodded. “Finally getting sick of me, huh?” You intended it to come out more of a joke than rash. “No hard feelings, Kook. I saw this coming.” You sighed and blinked at the shift in his expression. “Anything else?”

It was a lie if your heart didn’t crack in the slightest. There wasn’t much to be hurt over, mainly because you’ve already prepped for this outcome. Your roommate warned you. Your lab partner warned you. Everyone warned you and so you knew. There was a slight numb pain, nothing too drastic. You were just... disappointed. You thought you might’ve changed him, but things weren’t different.

“That’s it..? No tears? I get nothing from you?” Jungkook whispered and your blood slowly boiled at his mindless questions. 

You demonstrated a calm composure, knowing there were people witnessing the scene. “What were you honestly expecting from me, Jungkook? That I was going to beg for you to want me? Or that I would be absolutely ruined without you? Don’t be so full of yourself, honey.”

“I guess it’s because I’m absolutely ruined without you that I wanted you to feel the same pain.” He backed away, a tear slipping down his sadden face. “But I expected too much from you.” With the quick turn on his heel, he ran off and you couldn’t even ask him what he meant.

Jungkook numbly opened the door to his shared room. Jimin sat with a half naked girl on his bed, textbooks laid open and tongues lapping over one another. The other boy pulled away, startled by his roommate suddenly arriving home, looking as tattered as ever.

“Whoa.. Kook, you okay, bud?” Jimin motioned for the girl to leave. She packed her things quickly, remembering to grab her shirt before barely slipping it on as she reached the door. 

“I hate feeling. I hate feeling like I’m getting eaten alive by this invisible pain whenever I think of her with someone else, how she’s better off not influenced by my life, how beautiful her eyes glitter in the sun as she talked about nothing important.” He slumped onto his springy mattress and blinked at the ceiling.

Jimin sat up in his own bed, “what’s wrong with your life?”

“I’m this disgusting frat that does nothing but drink horrible booze, maintain the highest body count in this school, and throw rowdy parties. I’m the worst. She’s untainted and living her best life.” Jungkook closed his eyes to see you. Your figure fading in the crowd of people in the tight house. Your hair shining under the fluorescent lights. Your eyelashes battling lightly on your face.

“You’re a smart entrepreneur who knows how to have a little fun in life.” The ruffling of Jimin’s sheets caught Jungkook’s attention. “I don’t see anything wrong with that. A little party never killed anybody.” 

“Wow, what a quote.” Jungkook rolled his eyes at the Great Gatsby reference Jimin pulled. “I mean I guess it fits. I never get my girl like how Gatsby never gets his Daisy.” 

Jimin sighs and joined his buddy on his bed. “You get every girl you want.”

“Not this one, Jimin...” 

“Is it her or is it you, Kook?” Jimin’s phone went off repeatedly and he groaned. “They just love blowing up my phone..”

“Yeah, well, that’s not the only thing they love blowing..” Jungkook chuckled and Jimin joined in harmonious comfort. “I guess it is me. I don’t know why. I get so scared, so caught up in my emotions. I over analyze. I want her to be happy and I don’t feel like I’m a part of her happiness. I haven’t felt this way for anyone for the past several years of my life.”

“So, why don’t you just let yourself feel? What’s the consequence?” Jimin walked over to turn the volume down on his phone, until he scrolled through his notifications from many of his other friends. A grave look appeared on his face and Jungkook hurried over to check what he was looking at.

Jungkook’s phone had been off the past hour, he didn’t want any interruption when he was making his decisions. On Jimin’s phone, he saw text messages of fraternity brothers sending him a video of you kissing Mingyu. 

yo wasnt this jk’s girl he was fucking with? 

jimin you gotta show this to kook 

mingyu out here stealing everyone’s girl again, jk got competition

why isn’t jungkook’s phone turned on? show this shit to him asap

“That’s the consequence.” Jungkook swallowed and hurried out of the dorm, unaware to where his feet were leading him. 

You didn’t mean to create any more harm, but you felt so empty without Jungkook the past few weeks. You told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for him, that he was only going to leave, but that actually became your reality and you hated it. You wanted it to be fake, but you couldn’t stop it from happening. 

Kissing Mingyu wasn’t an act of revenge. In all honesty, you only missed Jungkook and Mingyu felt as strong as he was. But Mingyu wasn’t him. No one was Jungkook. He didn’t make you feel the same way Jungkook did. The sweet taste of his lips wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. 

“Why?” Jungkook found you in the midst of a heavy crowd one night. You thought that drowning your sorrows in alcohol would soothe the pains. His thin pink lips glistened from his lip balm and his eyebrows drew lines of confusion. You weren’t sure if he was angry, or if he was sad.

“Why?” Blinking back, you shifted your body language to face him. He took the red cup out of your hand and placed it onto a hard surface.

“Why did you kiss Mingyu?” You weren’t entirely sure how he knew, until he showed you the video. It had been circulating among the fraternity and you gulped. But you noticed how his ears turned red, his eyes were piercing with anger and jealousy. And you began to mirror the same emotions.

“Why does it matter to you? We stopped what we were doing, so why should I explain myself?” Jungkook held your hands to stop you from mindlessly flailing them around.

“You don’t think I deserve an explanation?!” His stare was intense, fierce.

You yelled over the loud music, “I don’t! Because I never got one, so what makes you so fucking special for one?!”

“If you want an explanation, I’ll tell you. You just had to ask.” His voice was softer now, being barely audible.

“You can’t just do this to me... you can’t switch it up whenever you want, Jungkook, not without thinking about how I feel and how it affects me. Your actions... they.. affect me. Everything you do affects me, so you can’t come to me whenever you want to. You can’t want me whenever you think you miss me. Because I refuse to be idly waiting for you.”

Jungkook sighed, and blinked away the tears that slightly blurred his vision. He pulled you outside, onto the front lawn where it was quieter. You let him, but stood far apart from his figure. 

“I like you, (Y/N), but I don’t want to drag you into something you wouldn’t want to be a part of. I’m the worst person on this campus. I do nothing, but sleep around and lose myself in cheap alcohol. I want you to be happy and if that meant that I wasn’t a part of your life then I was willing to sacrifice my own feelings just to see you smile.”

You shook your head, hoping that your heart would calm down from his words. “Why would you be so silly to think that you weren’t a part of my happiness?” 

“Because... I can’t be the one to make you happy.” 

“But you do! Jungkook.. you make me more than happy. I’m ecstatic, incredibly content being with you. Don’t shut us down when you barely gave us a chance. It’s scary to develop feelings, I know, I’ve been trying to suppress mine for you for the past months.”

Jungkook took a step closer, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

And you took a step back, “you already have. We’ve both done damage that doesn’t make us perfect people.” 

“I don’t know how to figure these things out. I’m uncertain how to handle these delicate relationships. The only thing I am certain of is that I like you.” Jungkook lent out his hand for you to take it. “Please, forgive me.” 

“(Y/N)!” Mingyu stood at the top of the stairs, at the frame of the door. His confused figure watched the scene unfold before him. Your heart pounded at the choices in front of you. Jungkook blinked helpless at you, waiting for you to take his hand. Mingyu remained at the door, waiting for you to join him back at the party.

You were unsure what to do. You didn’t want to choose. Jungkook’s hand stayed out for you. Staring long and hard between the two people, you panicked and ran back to your dorm.

Jungkook knew every crevice of your skin. He knew every small quirk. He knew you. Hearing his confession meant everything to you because you no longer needed to remain tough. You could be as vulnerable as you wanted.

So kissing Mingyu was a mistake, but it was something you couldn’t go back and change. It wasn’t something you could take back. It hurt Jungkook and it was going to hurt Mingyu.

The amount of emotions became unbearable, bawling at the second you closed your door. Your roommate wasn’t home, which you were thankful for. You were a mess, trying to catch your breath after running away.

In the midst of your uncontrollable bawl, there was a knock on your door. You opened it to see Jungkook looking at you with his big doe like eyes. It wasn’t Mingyu who ran after you. It was Jungkook.

“I pushed you away once and I let you get away, this time... this time I’m not letting either of those things happen again.” Jungkook huffed and pushed the door slightly more open. And you let him in. into your heart. into your mind. into your life. into your happiness.

[shinwhoohoo]

And because you’re on a roll with these—curious what your rankings are for their MVs?

What about their albums do you have any top favs (and I mean more in terms of the physical album design/content/photos/cd instead of the musical aspect of it since I think you may have already ranked that in an older ask)?

To share, not sure what my ranking is but my fav (bias is what im realizing it’s called in kpop) is Baro so my fav MV is Tried to Walk bc he gets so much screen time in it. Plus I love love all of his looks here!! And of course the khaki trench coat (and green trench coat + even the all white feathery one, tho those are from a music performance not mv) with the pink/unicorn hair I love them all have I said that yet lol. Maybe he overacted with the crying a bit in the skeleton zone, but that lone tear that falls as he’s walking through the city—my bb!! 🥺😅

For the physical album, I’m personally torn between Solo Day and Who Am I. I really like the “hardcover” of Solo Day and the way the CD is at the back (similar to how the cd is at the back with the hardcover for let’s fly). I’m also really into the mint/coral combo and the graphic design/layout/copy style/typography/typesetting (idk the term) of the inside. Love their photos from that shoot a lot! But let’s not talk about the English translation inside, ha! Who Am I, I love just bc there’s so much info packed in there I thought, and also so many photos, I just wish the cd was better encased even though I love the magazine style of it (and of course the concept of being able to complete an image via the spine).

Anyway, please share yours with us!

thanks for the ask~!! 💕

So I'd say this is my ranking just strictly basing it on the MV:

Solo Day (great storyline, great special effects, and a feel good ending that just fits the vibes of the song so well. Plus the hype building up to that MV at that time was REAL)

What’s Happening (love the quirkiness, the sets, and the style in which it is filmed. Again, fits the campy vibe the song has super well.)

Like A Movie (possibly the prettiest MV in my opinion? It just really goes head first into the fantasy, mystical vibes while still keeping a bit of the old-school bipo quirkiness of their earlier MVs, like with the zombie and alien spacecraft scenes)

Sweet Girl (beautiful sets. Just... a super pretty MV.)

Beautiful Target (perfect, old school bipo. Plus the fact we got 2 mvs? Amazing. It’s just so funny, so cute, so colorful... it always makes me happy to go back and watch it.)

Tried to Walk (another beautiful MV, and I agree it’s nice to get a more Baro-centric one. I actually think of all the members, he was the only one that could pull off that over the top, drama like acting lol.)

Baby Goodnight (fun, campy, quirky, A+ with the cowboy theme. Just absolutely great, classic, bipo.)

Lonely (definitely does the angst right, and I like how the shots are cut to coincide with the beats of the song. A little too Jinyoung focused sometimes, which I guess is why they also gave us a 2 MV version but I do like his scenes with the girl, especially her floating away as it gets darker.)

O.K (simple, but cute. Served well as a good introduction to them and the members. Not too much to add here.)

Only Learned Bad Things (another simple but cute.)

A Lie (pretty scenes and sets, not enough CNU lmao. Just seems to be missing the heart and soul their other MVs had.)

Baby I’m Sorry (yeah, idk, just doesn’t seem to fit their vibe. They seem to be trying too hard to be angsty. Though the behind the scenes of this MV are hilarious.)

Rollin’ (uninspired, filmed in literally 48 hours and it shows lmaoo it’s TRASH.)

Hmmm... the albums are kinda hard for me to pick just one honestly. I really like how much thought went into the Who Am I albums, how each member got one and how there were a lot of difference in the inside content depending on which one  you got. I love the styling of What’s Happening era, so I really love the photo’s in that album. And I think Into The Wind had the prettiest overall styling and concept photos of the members...but also Solo Day too!! Just because of the cohesiveness of the album to the MV...so can I say those four? 😁 lol

[smochiis]

band-aid solutions

✩pairing: jimin x reader

✩ genre: smut, angst, humor

✩ warning: slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!jimin, oral

✩ word count: 15k

✩ summary: It’s said that time heals all wounds, but that isn’t exactly true and sometimes band-aids are all you have. You catch your boyfriend cheating on you and Jimin is more than willing to help you forget him.

✩ a/n: inspired by the drama suspicious partner, check it out if you haven’t already!

It was a slew of texts that initiated the craziest night of your life.

 You found yourself curled up on the library’s sofa, facing yet another long, sleepless night. Your textbooks, notebooks, and papers piled around you in a disarray as you downed coffee after coffee in hopes of staying awake. The certification exam loomed over your head as you valiantly tried to focus on the words just underneath your nose while they floated around on the page.

 The buzzing of your phone jolted you awake and you realized you must have dozed off.

 Sighing, rubbing your temples, you grabbed your phone and squinted at the screen as the sudden brightness almost blinded you. The words were fuzzy at first but once you read them, suddenly, you could see very clearly. Your mind was awake and sharp and your stomach flopped.

 Krystal: you said your bf was on a business trip right?? [9:42 pm]

 Krystal: im pretty sure you told me that yesterday [9:42 pm]

 Krystal: but it's weird bc there's a guy here at the hotel who looks just like jaejoon [9:43 pm]

 Krystal: because it is jaejoon oh my god [10:37 pm]

 Krystal: and there’s a woman with him [10:37 pm]

 Krystal: y/n are you awake?? [10:39 pm]

 Krystal: y/n!!! [10:39 pm]

 Krystal: jongin and i left already but im positive it was jaejoon [11:21]

 Krystal: y/n call me when you get these….please?? [11:22 pm]

 You weren’t exactly sure what you felt after that, your body numb and your mind working overtime. But you didn't call Krystal. Instead, you pocketed your phone and hailed a taxi to the hotel Krystal had told you about -- the fancy one she and her boyfriend had been staying at for the past three nights as part of their anniversary celebration. You didn't even think twice about it.

 Until you were dropped off in the loop and gazed upon the graceful columns and arches of the entryway.

 It had to be some sort of prank. You forced yourself to push open the sleek, glass double-doors and walk into the foyer cast in a warm, golden glow. But you knew Krystal; she would never pull a prank like this.

 The only other explanation was that, maybe, your friend had been mistaken. And as you stood there, in the midst of excellently-groomed men and women who exuded wealth in their pristine suits and dresses and jewelry, you felt embarrassingly out of place. You truly hoped that Krystal had seen wrong.

 It was possible, right?

 You blew out a breath as you told yourself that, tried to calm your heart as it crumpled prematurely in your chest.

 But the longer you stood there in the lobby, the more ridiculous you felt. You'd dropped everything, even though your certification exam was tomorrow, and driven all the way out to a hotel that was so far out of your price range it hurt. You hadn’t even changed out of your jeans and t-shirt. Not to mention you had no idea what time it was. You dug out your phone and checked.

 12:09 am.

 You were absolutely crazy.

 “It's hard to disagree when you're just standing in the middle of the lobby like that,” a smooth voice murmured.

 Startled, you glanced to your left. “Huh?”

 The man standing next to you wore a plain but obviously expensive suit. Complete with a tie, cufflinks, and shiny black shoes. His chestnut hair was styled impeccably, his face fresh and handsome, despite the hour. He looked like something straight out of a catalogue, almost inhuman, as he watched you with a startling intensity.

 You felt even more out of place the longer he stared, your ears burning.

 “You look a little tense. Would you like a drink?” he offered.

 You didn't give yourself time to ponder his behavior or proposition. “No, thanks. I'm...looking for someone,” you said.

 The man just nodded, an inscrutable look in his pretty eyes. “Maybe some other time, then.” And he wandered back to the bar area across the floor, sitting with a group of other men who you assumed were his friends.

 You didn’t realize that you’d been watching him until your eyes met again.

 Licking your lips, you turned around and finally decided to move. You didn't know what to do now that you were in the lobby -- it wasn't like you could go knocking on every door, looking for a man who you weren’t even sure was here -- but you figured that the elevator was a good place to start. You could at least try to compose yourself there, figure out your next step.

 You tried to ignore the stares as you jabbed your thumb against the button. Tried to ignore the whispers of the people who walked past you, the frazzled girl in a pair of jeans. And as you ignored them, you once again tried to convince yourself that this was crazy -- you were crazy. That everything was a misunderstanding, that Krystal had seen wrong, and that your boyfriend was in Busan for his business trip like he had promised.

 But that feeble hope shattered when the elevator doors opened and you stared Jaejoon in the face.

 Like some sort of twisted scene right out of a drama.

 You saw the panic flash across his face as your eyes met. You also saw his arm draped around the shoulders of the slender woman by his side, and how her hand rested on his chest with familiarity. The woman looked at you curiously, and then at Jaejoon, a frown pulling on her perfect lips.

 “What's the matter, baby?” she murmured, and the pet-name was a fist around your lungs. She eyed you again. “Do you know her?”

 “Go wait in the car,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze when she hesitated, a sweet smile that you knew so well. “I'll be out in just a little bit.”

 The woman frowned again, her pretty features furrowing, but she did as he said nonetheless. Her red dress hugged her hips and curves, serving as a beacon and drawing every man’s eyes as she left.

 It was only after the double-doors shut behind her that your boyfriend sighed.

 “Y/N...let's talk.”

  You didn't know why you let him lead you to the sitting area and into a plush chair. You didn't know why you were even still here because all you wanted to do was run away and hide.

 Was this really happening?

 Your mouth was shut so tightly your jaw hurt. Because if you opened it, you’d spew out all your feelings in a cacophony of word vomit. All you could do was stare at Jaejoon as he sipped his water and hope that he could feel your gaze burning into his skin.

 “Aren't you going to say something?” he asked after a long moment of pure silence. “Or are you going to just stare at me.”

 It took a great effort to unlock your jaw and bite back all the raging questions. “Explain yourself,” you managed through gritted teeth.

 He blinked, shrugged. “I don’t really have anything to say.”

 “I just found you with another woman at a hotel at midnight. And you have nothing to say?” Heartbreak and fury warred in your chest, constantly trying to one-up each other. But somehow, you managed to keep your face impassive.

 You didn't want Jaejoon to know what you were feeling.

 Jaejoon sighed. “It’s not what you think.”

 “Then what is it?”

 “Look,” he said, “the important thing is that I still love you, Y/N. I’ve made mistakes, yeah, but how I feel about you will never change.”

 Mistakes. Plural.

 The lines felt almost scripted, like he’d practiced them. Or repeated them to other women. They were hollow, without an ounce of sincerity, and it made your skin prickle.

 “How many times?” you interrupted.

 “What?”

 “How many times have you made mistakes?” The question left a sour taste in your mouth, made your chest ache, but you had to know.

 Jaejoon sat back in his chair. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you it was the first time, and your feelings would be hurt if I told you it wasn’t the first time. Don’t you think it would be better if you just didn’t know?”

 Incredulity had your mouth dropping open. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, like a cloth having the water wrung out of it. But you swallowed the pain and fought back the burn in your eyes.

 Heartbreak was winning.

 To be honest, you’d already known that something wasn’t right.

 The delays in his texts, the sudden surge in business trips, the constant need to readjust the passenger seat in his car…

 You’d known that he was changing, that he was seeing someone else. You’d known that he was a two-timing bastard, but pretended not to. You willingly let yourself be fooled because it was less painful that way.

 But now the truth was right in front of your face. Undeniable. You couldn’t look away this time and it felt like being kicked in the teeth by a horse.

 “Anyway,” Jaejoon sighed, “I made a mistake. You’re right. Do you need me to swear that it won’t happen again?” He lifted his right hand with an easy smile that had won you over so many times before.

 Now, it just made your hands fist in your lap. Fury wrestled its way to the top.

 “Do you think this is a joke?” You crossed your arms and his smile fell. “The least you could do is be serious, you asshole.”

 Jaejoon closed his eyes and ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’m young, Y/N,” he said, as if that explained everything.

 “And?”

 “And when gorgeous girls in tight little dresses try to outright seduce you…” He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “There aren’t very many young men who’d be able to resist, that’s all. We have two heads and only one can be in charge at a time.”

 Your stomach flopped and your eyes started to burn again. “So you’re saying that you had no choice because you’re young?” You refused to cry, and to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, even if they were angry tears.

 “I’m saying that I won’t make the same mistake again,” he said, frustration clear.

 “You mean you won’t get caught again.” You swallowed tightly, the knowledge a thick lump in your throat. Because he would do it again. “You mean that you’ll just be more careful when you’re cheating on me, you son of a bitch.” You slammed your hands on the table and stood up, heading for the doors.

 You needed to leave. To disappear. And to cry out your heartache where no one could see.

 “Y/N!” You heard Jaejoon’s footsteps as he chased after you, felt his tight grip on your wrist as he tried to turn you around. “I said I was sorry. What more do you need?”

 That anger buried deep in your chest finally exploded as you threw off his hand. “What, so, when you say sorry I’m just supposed to roll over and go, ‘Okay, I understand, I forgive you’? Do you think that ‘sorry’ makes everything okay?”

 He stared at you, stunned, as if he’d never expected such a reaction from you. But of course he wouldn’t have, because for the entirety of your relationship you’d held your tongue, willing to overlook his faults in exchange for his attention. Because ‘sorry’ had always made everything okay before.

 That was your mistake.

 “Then this is it? We’re done?”

 “No, wait,” you said. You were tired of being a pushover. “I’ll decide whether or not we’re done. But first, let’s even the score. I’m young, just like you are,” you said and watched his face change, “so that means I have no choice but to make mistakes too. I’ll go and have a one-night stand.”

 Jaejoon spluttered.

 “After we’re even,” you continued, “then I’ll let you know if we’re breaking up.”

 He let out a short bark of laughter and crossed his arms. “Seriously, Y/N? You? You’re not the type to - ”

 “Yes, me. I’m going to sleep with the first guy I bump into after this,” you promised, and you dearly hoped that he believed you.

 “Y/N.” The amount of scorn on his tongue could have melted steel.

 “The very first one,” you said in a low voice. Without giving him a chance to reply, you turned on your heel and went to storm across the lobby. Instead, you barely managed two steps before an old man walked directly into your path and, panicking, you twisted on the balls of your feet to avoid running into him.

 The very first one, you’d promised. Heartbroken and blinded by revenge or not, old men just didn’t do it for you.

 So rather than bumping into an old man, you tripped and crashed to the floor. Your knees smacked the ground hard, sending a jolt through your whole body, and your hair exploded around your face.

 Behind you, you heard Jaejoon snicker. “Oh my god...”

 Sitting there on the cold hard floor, feeling the weight of many eyes on your shoulders, in your old jeans and t-shirt, you were once again reminded of how utterly ridiculous you were. You had never felt smaller than you did in that moment as you brushed your hair out of your eyes and scrambled to your feet. But still, you pretended as though nothing had happened as you fixed your hair and your shirt.

 You managed a few steps before your vision grew watery and you sniffed, trying to discreetly rub away the tears that threatened to spill.

 Instead, you rubbed out one of your contacts.

 Now everything was blurry and you stood frozen in the lobby. Your shoulders threatened to tremble as the embarrassment ate you alive. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could feel everyone staring at you -- probably laughing at you too.

 And among them was Jaejoon.

 Right there, in that moment, your “tough girl” act began to crumble. You didn’t care who it was, but you wished that someone would take you away.

 No, you wanted to disappear completely.

 But before the first tear could fall, you caught a whiff of expensive cologne and felt the strong press of a shoulder against yours. A man bumped into you hard enough to gain your attention and you turned to look at his face. You couldn’t discern much as you squinted at his profile, but he stood calmly next to you and stared at Jaejoon.

 Who was apparently unfazed by the whole ordeal. “Come on, stop being so stubborn, Y/N.” His voice was exasperated, like he was speaking to a child.

 The stranger next you, however, had given you enough of a reprieve to collect yourself. He’d bumped into you on purpose.

 You took a breath and blinked away the tears before looking at him again, completely ignoring Jaejoon. ���Would you sleep with me?” you asked.

 A part of you realized that you should have felt ridiculous asking that question. But a bigger part of you realized that you didn’t care anymore.

 Because the stranger glanced at you and said in a voice smooth as velvet, “Sure, I’d love to.”

 You didn’t know why he was helping you save face but you were grateful nonetheless. And when you leaned in to get a better look at him, squinting, you sighed. You couldn’t make out any of his defining features, but you could still tell that he was handsome and probably around the same age as yourself.

 “At least you’re young and good-looking,” you muttered under your breath.

 The stranger chuckled. “Glad to know you think so,” he said, and you paused.

 You’d heard that smooth, rich voice before. Recently, in fact.

 Stepping even closer to him, you rose to the balls of your feet and blinked, trying to focus on his face. You squinted as his fuzzy features slowly became clearer, bit by bit, until you could see his well-kept hair, beautiful brown eyes, and full lips stretched into a smile.

 Recognition hit you, leaving you breathless.

 It was the same man who’d spoken to you earlier and offered to buy you a drink. The catalogue man.

 “Oh, it’s you,” you gasped.

 He only smiled wider and offered you his arm. “Let’s go.”

 Sparing a glance at Jaejoon, who was staring at you with disbelief, you grabbed Catalogue Man’s hand without a second thought. “Gladly,” you hummed and let him guide you to the double-doors.

 Bursting through those doors earlier, you would have never imagined that you’d be leaving on the arm of a man who wasn’t your boyfriend. But, you supposed, life was unpredictable and cruel and sometimes you just had to improvise.

 “Wait a minute,” Jaejoon called. “Whoa, wait a minute!” The outrage in his voice was clear and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t satisfying. “Y/N, stop right there! If you leave with him, then we’re over,” Jaejoon warned, and you stopped in your tracks.

 The stranger by your side glanced down at you with a quirked brow as if to say, What do you want to do?

 You inhaled, taking in the stares of everyone in the lobby. They were rapt, as if tuned into their favorite daytime soap opera. You’d already created quite the scene, why not go out with a bang?

 So you wrapped Catalogue Man’s arm around your shoulders in a bold move. And then you plastered the biggest, brightest smile on your face and said, “Let’s go.”

 Catalogue Man kept you tucked underneath his arm, a faux show of possession, but let you lead. Wrapped in the warm smell of his cologne, feeling his nice suit against the bare skin of your arms and cheeks, you felt confident. You felt like you could look back at your boyfriend -- ex-boyfriend -- and smile coyly. Because you had a better man, a more beautiful man, a wealthier man who was willing to sleep with you. Someone better than Jaejoon wanted you.

 In that moment, the revenge was honey on your tongue.

 But that confidence disappeared the moment you set foot outside and the cold night air slapped your face. It was like waking up from a strange, horrible dream.

 And you were suddenly faced with the fact that a total stranger was expecting you to sleep with him. Because you'd asked him to.

 Biting your lip, you wracked your brain for ideas on how to weasel your way out of the situation. Maybe if you said you'd changed your mind, he would just let you go. Or maybe he wouldn't.

 Those thoughts came to a sudden stop, though, when said stranger removed his arm from around your shoulders. His absence left you cold, goosebumps breaking out along the skin of your arms, and you crossed them.

 “I know you don't really want to sleep with me,” Catalogue Man said with what you thought was a smile. Having just one contact was still making it difficult for you to see. “And that's fine, because I didn't really expect you to.”

 You couldn't hide your surprise. “How do you know that?”

 “You could have taken us upstairs to one of the hotel rooms. But instead we came outside,” he said before heading over to the valet’s stand to, presumably, have his car brought around.

 You watched him, fingers fiddling with the fabric of your shirt. You were too embarrassed to point out that you probably couldn't afford to pay for a room at this hotel. It had taken Krystal’s boyfriend over a year to save up for just three nights and you had no idea how Jaejoon had been able to afford it. Unless he wasn't a businessman at all, which you couldn't disregard.

 And all at once, you realized that you hadn't really known Jaejoon at all.

 Over a year together and he was practically as much a stranger to you as the man in front of you now while he waited for his car.

 The sour feeling in your mouth was back but you still touched Catalogue Man’s arm. “I don't know why you helped me, but thank you,” you said in a small voice.

 “I had fun helping you out. Though I never did get your name,” he mused, looking at you.

 “Y/N,” you supplied, wishing you could see his eyes better.

 “Y/N…” He rolled your name around on his tongue, testing it out. “It's pretty. I’m Park Jimin. Figured it's only right that we know each other's names since we’re apparently sleeping together,” he teased as he held out his hand.

 Despite yourself, you laughed and shook his hand. “Jimin. Now I can stop thinking of you as Catalogue Man.”

 The joke wasn't very funny you thought, but Jimin still broke into a smile that revealed a just-slightly crooked tooth. It’s appearance did funny things to your abused heart.

 Which you quickly wrote off as adrenaline.

 The purr of an engine drew your eyes as a sleek, silver Mercedes rolled around before coming to a smooth stop in front of you. The valet got out and handed Jimin his keys.

 “I have to go,” Jimin said. “But in the future, try not to bump into random guys on the street. Far too many of them would actually take you up on that offer to sleep with you. There's lots of perverts out there, Y/N.” His warning was firm but also caring, which was strange you thought.

 But then again, a lot of strange things had happened tonight.

 Jimin smiled at you and waved before opening the driver door. And as you gave a small wave back, you heard his voice.

 “Y/N!”

 Jaejoon.

 Your heart leapt into your throat and you looked over you shoulder to see him coming out of the double doors. The pain and embarrassment you'd felt earlier came rushing back full force as you looked at his face. It left you unable to think, your body simply reacting.

 You yanked open the passenger door of Jimin’s car and slid inside.

 He balked, completely startled, as you shut the door. “I wasn't expecting you to follow up on your offer, Y/N, really,” he tried to assure you.

 “I know, I'm sorry,” you said, staring hard at the dashboard. You would have time to feel crazy later. “Please just drive.”

 He must have known that something was wrong, because Jimin looked over your shoulder. And when he spotted Jaejoon outside, pacing by the doors and staring at you in the silver Mercedes, he understood. To your utter surprise and relief, the engine rumbled and he pulled away from the curb, leaving the hotel and the last hour of absolute insanity behind.

  Neither of you said much as he drove.

 The silence settled in, along with the weight of your actions. You hadn't been yourself all night. You'd turned into some crazy woman who propositioned strange men and hijacked their cars -- a crazy woman with no sense of shame. Rubbing your forehead, you bit back a groan.

 “Thank you, I’m sorry,” you mumbled again.

 Jimin glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, one hand on the steering wheel. “I hear that quite often from you.” But it wasn't said with irritation or heat, just a quiet observation.

 You bit your lip before saying, “I'm not the type of person to ask a random man to sleep with me. I do have pride, though it doesn't seem like it right now.”

 You didn't know why you wanted him to know that. Like you wanted to leave him with a good impression of you, though you knew you'd never see him again. But for some reason, his opinion mattered. Maybe because he'd been the one to rescue you.

 Or maybe because you were just so embarrassed for someone to have witnessed your unabashed behavior.

 “You don't have to explain,” Jimin said and you had the strangest feeling that he somehow understood. He smiled at you with his eyes, the look charming and swoon-worthy. “Where do you want me to drop you off?”

 “The nearest bar, if you don't mind,” you muttered. Jimin’s brows rose but he kept his eyes on the road and you hastily elaborated. “It’s been a rough day and I could use a drink or two.” And some preferably company, anything to get your mind off of Jaejoon, but you didn’t state that.

 Jimin just nodded.

 It was barely five minutes later when he pulled over onto the shoulder of the road. You looked out the window at the bar, with its flashing neon signs and back alleys, and smiled wearily. A dive bar suited your day all too well.

 Murmuring your gratitude and one last apology, you slid out of Jimin’s car.

 Before you could close the door, however, he spoke. “You know, that offer for a drink is still on the table.”

 Startled, you squinted at him, trying to see his eyes. He was leaning on the steering wheel expectantly, fiddling with his keys in the ignition. He appeared sincere enough. And today had been a shitshow of epic proportions already; it couldn’t get much worse, you told yourself as you gnawed on your bottom lip.  

 “You’re a little overdressed for a dive bar,” you cleared your throat and brushed back your hair, “but why the hell not.”

 Jimin’s smile was bright and clear even though you only had one contact in. He turned off the engine and pocketed his keys before joining you by the entrance. Again, the scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a warm breeze, and you found it very difficult not to sigh and rub your face into the material of his suit.

 You were definitely crazy.

  This time, it wasn’t you who stood out in the crowd, but Jimin.

 Everyone else was dressed to your standards -- jeans, t-shirts, sometimes less than that -- and he was the only one in a nice suit. But if the stares of the other patrons bothered him, he didn’t let on. In fact, he seemed totally casual as the two of you plopped down at the bar counter and ordered your first round.

 “Been a while since I’ve been to one of these bars,” Jimin mused and took a sip of his whiskey.

 You opened your mouth to respond but the buzzing of your phone cut you off. You dug it out of your pocket and peered blearily at the screen.

 Jaejoon was calling you.

 Your scowl was immediate as you rejected the call and slammed the phone onto the counter.

 “Excuse me,” you told the bartender, “could I get a whole bottle of this please?” You lifted your still-full shot glass.

 The bartender blinked in surprise but gave you a full bottle anyway, to which Jimin chuckled and ordered another glass of whiskey.

 By the time you were finished with your bottle, Jaejoon had called you 14 times. Your phone rattled against the bar’s countertop as his face flashed across the screen again, and again, and again…

 Fury bubbled in your throat. How dare he disturb your night out. Hadn’t he disturbed you enough already?

 Half of you wanted to grab your phone and throw it across the room. But the small, sober part of you knew that was a terrible idea because you’d be the one paying the consequences. Literally.

 “You should turn it off,” Jimin suggested, as though he’d noticed your internal war.

 You nodded, fingering the rim of your shot glass. “Yeah,” you sighed as you watched the call expire and your phone’s screen fade to black. Before Jaejoon had a chance to call you again, you powered your phone off and put it back in your pocket.

 And tried to ignore the ugly feelings that stirred in your chest.

 What had driven him to cheat on you? Was it your looks? Because you'd been focusing on your studies? Or had you simply gotten boring?

 Each thought made your stomach roll.

 Without word, the bartender placed a bag of pretzels and another bottle in front of you. “On the house,” he said with sympathy when you went to protest.

 You swallowed and looked down at your hands. Did you look as miserable as you felt? You must have.

 Jimin’s glass met the counter with a clink. “When something like this happens to people, they mistakenly blame themselves,” he murmured. “Did I do something wrong? Am I ugly or boring? Was I just not enough? What’s wrong with me?”

 Your tongue felt thick in your mouth. It was like he’d pulled the questions directly from your head, opened your chest and seen those ugly feelings for himself.

 “I know how that feels,” he said, glancing at you, and suddenly you understood. Jimin sighed and filled his glass again, his fourth drink. “But, Y/N… We’re not the ones who were wrong. The only people to blame are the ones that betrayed us. It’s not our fault. It took me a long time to figure that out but you understand, right?”

 We. Us. Our.

 You nodded, finding strange solace in the fact that you weren’t alone. Knowing that someone else shared your misery was somehow comforting.

 “Logically, I know it’s not my fault. But I still can’t help but feel that I could have prevented it somehow,” you admitted as you reached for a pretzel.

 Maybe if you'd paid Jaejoon a little more attention, maybe if you had spoken your mind more often, maybe if you'd put more effort into your appearance… Maybe things would have been different.

 Jimin downed his drink, breathed out. “I know. You’ll get to where I am eventually.”

 “How long did it take you?”

 “Four years.”

 You blanched. Four years was a long time. Would it take you four years to get over Jaejoon? You really hoped not because you didn’t think you could go on for four years feeling like this. The fact that Jimin had… It made you wonder just how in love he had been to have hurt for so long.

 Maybe he saw the mix of sympathy and curiosity on your face. Or maybe it was because your body seemed to ask, Was it really that bad?

 But either way, Jimin smiled wanly and poured another glass of whiskey. “Her name was Yebin and we’d been dating for almost two years,” he began. “We never fought, she was always so patient with me even though I was travelling all the time for work, never got angry when I had to cancel our dates. I never questioned why that was.”

 Your skin prickled at how familiar that situation felt. Numbly, you munched on your pretzel.

 “I had to work on our second anniversary too, out in Hong Kong,” he continued after taking a sip. “But I finished early and made it back late that night. Bought a boquet at the airport and planned on surprising her at home but when I got there…” Jimin paused, his brows and lips turning down into a pained expression that you knew well because you’d seen it on your own face. He sighed. “I saw the shoes by the door. And I tried to convince myself that they were mine even though I’d never seen them before.”

 The denial, too, was familiar to you. Your face mirrored your empathy as you reached out and patted Jimin’s hand.

 To your surprise, he took your fingers and gave them a small squeeze. “Then I saw the clothes all over the floor. Her favorite bra and a tie that I knew wasn’t mine… The bedroom door was open but I couldn’t make myself look, so I left,” he finished, and your heart ached anew.

 Catching Jaejoon at a hotel with another woman was one thing. Coming home to find your girlfriend in your bed with someone else was another. It was probably worse. But, then again, you supposed that there was never any good way to find out you were being two-timed.

 “I’m so sorry, Jimin…” you murmured and hoped that he felt your sincerity.

 “Like I said, I’ve made my peace with it,” he said nonchalantly. “Not gonna lie and say it doesn’t still sting, though.” He smiled at you and squeezed your fingers again before reaching for some pretzels.

 And it was probably just the alcohol, but you were suddenly struck by how beautiful Jimin really was. His smooth skin, sparkling eyes that smiled, full lips, and that one crooked tooth that gave him a charming, boyish appeal. Combined with his easy personality -- he’d helped you, a total stranger, and publicly agreed to sleep with you even though it was only for show, and kept you company at this backwater bar -- you just couldn’t understand how anyone could take him for granted.

 “She must have been crazy,” the words slipped out of your mouth, surprising yourself. Jimin looked surprised too, but he chuckled and you felt your face flush. “Who in their right mind would cheat on you?”

 “I could ask you the same thing.” He was smiling again.

 For a little while after that, the two of you drank in silence. Mulled over everything that had happened in the past 24 hours and the ugly memories you’d dug up together. As you slowly worked your way through the second bottle, your mind growing fuzzy, the empty spot in your chest grew larger and larger until you felt hollow.

 You began to rub the heel of your palm over the over it, trying to make it go away. But it didn’t work.

 “How did you do it?”

 “Hm?” Jimin glanced at you.

 “How did you stop feeling so empty?” you asked.

 He sighed, swirled his nearly-empty glass. “I tried a lot of things. Alcohol, money, other girls… They were all band-aid solutions though. For me, it just took time,” he said. “It might be different for you.”

 “Those...band-aid solutions,” you muttered, nibbling a pretzel stick. “They worked though?”

 “For a little while, and then they wore off. Like a band-aid.”

 You nodded, running your tongue over your teeth as an idea slowly shaped in your mind. A little while was okay. “I only need a little while,” you whispered. “Just for a little while, I want to stop feeling so...used. I want to feel like someone actually wants me.”

 The hollow ache was unbearable. Even a small reprieve was welcome.

 Jimin put down his glass and looked at you. “I’m sure lots of people want you, Y/N.” And for the umpteenth time, you wished that you had both contacts so you didn’t have to concentrate so hard to clearly see his expression.

 “Do you?”

 He paused mid-swallow. “What?” he rasped.

 “Do you want me?” The alcohol was making you much bolder, much more honest, otherwise you would have never scrounged the courage to ask such a thing.

 For a while he didn’t say anything, just stared into the bottom of his glass. “I’d be stupid not to,” he admitted eventually, glancing at you.

 “Would you sleep with me?” you asked for the second time that day.

 Jimin swallowed. “I would.”

 And that was all the confirmation you needed before you grabbed the collar of his very-expensive suit and yanked him down to your mouth. He tasted sour, like the alcohol, and salty, like the pretzels you’d been snacking on, and it was perfect. Warmth traveled from your lips and into your chest where the big hole was, all the way to your toes.

 His hands cradled the sides of your face, thumbs pressing into your cheekbones, and he slanted his mouth over yours.

 When you felt his tongue in your mouth, you moaned, and he suddenly pulled back. “Y/N,” his breath fanned across your face, “you’re drunk. I’m drunk. Are you sure this is what you want?”

 “Yes,” you said without hesitation. “Are you?”

 “Yes. I just don’t want you to regret anything tomorrow morning.”

 “Trust me,” you grabbed his collar again, “I would never regret this.”

 Jimin kissed you with a breathy groan, pulling your body into his. And somehow, between groping your back and your neck and your hair, he managed to root through his wallet and toss out a stack of bills on the counter. He did it without looking but you had no doubt the sum covered your bill plus extra.

 Sober, you probably would have felt bad about crumpling what looked like a designer suit beneath your fingers, but right now you didn’t damn well care. Neither did Jimin as he all but tugged you outside into the cold air.

 Nipping your bottom lip once more, he pulled away, ran his fingers through his hair -- even kiss-swollen and disheveled he was still so beautiful. You watched with hungry eyes as he snagged a taxi even though his very pretty, very expensive car waited just a few feet away.

 “Definitely not sober enough to drive.” He opened the door for you.

 “Mm, safety first,” you agreed with a grin as the two of you squeezed into the backseat of the taxi.

 Once inside, you could barely keep your hands off each other, like a couple of teenagers at a drive-in theater. The driver had to ask Jimin to repeat his address three times, glancing up at his rearview mirror more than what was necessary. Normally, the thought of having an audience would have made you burn with mortification, but now your body thrummed excitedly.

 You were practically sitting on top of Jimin, your hands raking through his soft hair. His own hands rested on your back and your hip, holding you tight. You shivered when you felt the tips of his fingers graze your bare back underneath your t-shirt, but all he did was stroke your skin. He made no move to take your shirt off.

 “We should keep our clothes on,” he murmured in your ear, voice so low that your stomach jumped. “I would hate for the taxi driver to see your underwear. I’m sorry, I’m a little selfish.” He palmed your bare back.

 “You can be selfish all you want,” your lips whispered against his skin. You kissed the underside of his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. “It’s sexy.”

 Jimin exhaled, squeezed your hip. “I’m hardly the sexy one here.”

 His breathy words ignited a combination of pride and pleasure inside you as the alcohol burned in your veins. It gave you the confidence to scrape your teeth against the hollow of his throat and swing one of your legs around his hip so that you were straddling his lap. Your grin was smug as you felt the prominent bulge pressing against the crotch of your jeans.

 Suddenly, both of his hands were on your hips, pressing you down into his lap and urging you to scoot back and forth, and his mouth was on yours. He swallowed your moans as you shamelessly rubbed yourself against his erection.

 “Feel good?” he murmured.

 “Yes,” you sighed against his lips. And whined when he pulled you down harder, the seam of your jeans pressing into your clit. Already, your underwear felt damp and uncomfortable. “Alcohol makes me really horny. I’m already wet, Jimin.”

 He stiffened beneath you -- you felt it in his shoulders and in how his hands clenched on your hips.

 “Good to know I'm not the only one.”

 One of his hands snapped to the front of your jeans, furiously trying to undo the button with booze-clumsy fingers. You gasped when he all but ripped the front of your pants open and tugged down your zipper.

 “I thought we were keeping our clothes on?” you laughed, wriggling in his lap.

 “Oh, we are,” Jimin promised with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Thankfully, I don’t need to take your clothes off to do this.” He pressed his fingers directly against your center, touching the damp cotton of your panties and grinning at your shivering gasp. “You really are wet, Y/N,” he said quietly.

 “Mmm…” You bit your lip, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he felt you through your panties. His touch was too light. “Jimin, harder, please,” you urged, trying to press into his hand.

 He obliged, rubbing harder, the pads of his fingers purposely seeking out your clit. His other hand guided your hips as you ground against him. Your underwear felt like a sticky mess as you wantonly contracted around nothing and your body cried for more.

 “So wet,” Jimin muttered again. This time, he pushed your panties to the side and dragged a finger through your dripping folds, collecting the juices and rubbing tiny circles around your clit.

 You jolted in his lap, body trembling, mouth opening in wordless pleasure. Up and down, his finger traveled, teasing, testing your wetness, before finally dipping inside your entrance.

 “Jimin,” you whined into his shoulder.

 “Shh…” he whispered as his finger worked. You whimpered despite his warning and he squeezed your hip. “You should keep your voice down unless you want the driver to hear you. Think you can do that? Can you be quiet while you fuck yourself on my hand? While you come all over my fingers?”

 His husky voice and dirty words had you melting in his lap, your pussy clenching hard. “Yes, yes,” you answered, biting your lip.

 “Good girl.” The hand on your hip squeezed again.

 The position you were in only allowed for shallow strokes but you rocked against his hand to put pressure on your clit. Maybe it was the alcohol but his fingers felt so good -- it felt so much better, so much more intense, than any of the other times someone had touched you. It was insane how good it felt to have his one finger fuck you.

 Jimin pulled out and you gasped in protest before he gathered more of your juices and pressed two fingers inside you. They sank in deeper, up to his second knuckle, stretching your soft walls.

 “Damn, you’re tight. I can barely move my fingers,” he groaned as your hips rolled against his hand. He glanced up at you through the fringe of dark hair that had fallen into his eyes with a smirk, looking like a mischievous fallen angel instead of an elite businessman. “Imagine how it’ll feel when you’re finally sitting on my dick.”

 You whimpered again, clenching on his fingers.

 God, you couldn’t wait. You were so horny that if he hadn’t had such a good grip on your waist you would have probably stripped off your pants and ridden him right there in the taxi.

 No one had ever turned you on so much by simply talking and petting you through your underwear. And it was strange, because you’d never been one for dirty talk before. Every time Jaejoon had tried it you’d felt utterly ridiculous and --

 You stopped moving, your arousal cut through sharply with cold water.

 Jaejoon.

 How many other women had he touched this way? Had he ever fucked another girl in a taxi like this? Had he ever done it on his way to see you? How many times had he kissed you right after tasting another woman?

 You saw his face in your mind, felt the ghost of his fingers on your skin, and shivered in disgust.

 “No, no, no, come back.” Jimin’s low voice startled you out of your thoughts. A line of concern formed in his brow as he cupped your cheek with one hand, thumb stroking your flushed skin. “Come back to me,” he urged. “Don’t think about him, just think about me. You’re here with me, remember?”

 You nodded.

 “There’s no room for thoughts of him in this car,” Jimin whispered, moving his fingers. He pulled you down by the neck for a kiss, nipping your bottom lip. “Just you and me. My hands on your neck, my lips on your skin, my fingers inside your tight little pussy,” he growled into your mouth and his sudden aggressive tone took you by surprise.

 As did how your arousal flared back to life, just as intense as before. You could feel yourself squelching on his fingers, imagined dripping down his hand and wrist.

 “Oh my god,” you whimpered, “yes.”

 “Just you and me,” Jimin repeated before sucking hard on the skin at the base of your neck. His fingers moved faster, harder, fucking you the best he could with such shallow penetration.

 “Just you and me,” you echoed, lost in sensation.

 He hummed in appreciation as his mouth continued to ravage your neck and collarbone, leaving bruises all over the exposed skin. His fingers pumped in and out of your pussy while the heel of his palm dug into your clit. And when he started rotating his wrist in tiny circles, you bit back a scream, choosing instead to bite your lip and bury your face into his shoulder again.

 “That’s it,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, “nice and quiet.”

 “Jimin… Jimin, I-I think I’m gonna -- ” You cut yourself off with a muffled groan, your fingers finding their way back into his hair. “Oh, god, I’m gonna come.”

 “Go ahead, come all over my fingers. Let go, Y/N,” he whispered.

 Obediently, you let yourself go and you tugged on his hair to try and keep yourself grounded. Stars winked behind your closed eyelids as you came, the muscles in your stomach convulsing and your pussy squeezing on Jimin’s fingers, making it harder and harder for him to pull out. But he was determined to fuck you through your orgasm, igniting little mini-shocks that had your hips stuttering against his hand.

 He kept going, moving his fingers, until you pulled on his hair and babbled for him to stop because it was just too much.

 Weak and trembling, you collapsed into Jimin’s chest. Your cheek pressed against his neck and the collar of his now-wrinkled suit and you felt the sweat collecting at the base of your neck begin to trickle down your spine.

 Jimin’s thumb was rubbing soothing circles behind your ear and you had no idea how long he’d been doing it. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you come?” he asked you with a smile that you couldn’t see but felt all the same.

 Too weak to answer, you simply shook your head.

 “I mean, look at this,” Jimin said as his hand slipped back out of your panties and lifted up for you to see. His whole hand glistened in the dim light, making you flush. When he stuck one finger in his mouth, your stomach and thighs clenched. “You taste good too. Makes me wish we were alone so I could eat you out,” he murmured, thumb pressing gently behind your ear.

 An image of Jimin, his head buried between your thighs while they squeezed his shoulders, flashed through your mind.

 You tried to press your thighs together to relieve the neverending ache but they were still on either side of his hips. “That sounds so good...”

 “Mm… Too bad we’re here.” Jimin sounded honestly disappointed. He nonchalantly re-buttoned your pants. “That’s too good of a show for our friend the taxi driver, don’t you think? He’d probably crash.”

 Though you should have felt panic at the reminder that the two of you weren’t alone, you laughed. You were surprised at how little you cared about the fact that you’d just gotten off in the back seat of a taxi, but chances were, you’d come back to your senses in the morning. You could hold off on being embarrassed until then because being with Jimin just felt too good.

 You didn't feel so empty.

 “Maybe when we are alone,” you suggested, sighing happily and sinking lower into his lap. You could feel how hard his dick was through the soiled cotton of your panties and your jeans, and your mouth watered. “But I wanna try tasting you too and I don’t know if we’ll have enough energy for both.”

 Jimin’s head hit the headrest with a soft thump. “Careful, say too many things like that while you’re wiggling around and I might come in my pants,” he warned. “I haven’t done that since I was 15.”

 You smiled against his neck and stilled. “Guess we can’t have that, huh?”

 He smoothed a hand down your back, cupping your ass. “I’d at least like to keep my dignity intact until we go upstairs,” he said and pointed to the window with his chin.

 You sat up abruptly, realizing that the taxi was stopped. How long had it been parked?

 As if reading your mind, Jimin chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your jaw. He patted your ass gently and nodded towards the door. “After you,” he said.

 You scrambled off his lap and stumbled out of the taxi on weak knees and wobbly legs. You’d been straddling Jimin for too long, feeling the pinpricks at the tips of your toes for the first time, and the ache between your thighs wasn’t helping. You had to brace yourself on Jimin’s arm when he offered it to you with another kiss-swollen smirk.

 Clutching his arm for support, you waited while Jimin thanked and paid the driver. Again, much more than what the trip was actually worth -- and you didn’t know if it was because Jimin was feeling especially generous tonight, or if it was to compensate for how the two of you had behaved in the backseat.

 One thing you did notice, though, was that the hand Jimin used to pay was the same hand that had been buried in your panties just a few minutes prior. And you had no idea why that was such a turn-on.

 Turning, he saw your flushed face and hungry eyes and he winked.

 Your brows lifted as you realized that he’d probably used that hand on purpose, just to see if you’d react. “You’re secretly a pervert, aren’t you,” you accused as the taxi pulled away.

 Jimin outright laughed and steered you towards a huge apartment complex. “That would mean you didn't listen to my advice from earlier, then.”

 “Nope,” you deadpanned, to which he laughed again. You peered at the massive building in front of you, squinting to try and figure out how many floors there were. It looked like fifty but that was ridiculous. “Which one’s yours?”

 “Top floor,” Jimin said as you entered the lobby, “the penthouse.”

 “Of course it is.” You nodded.

 Your blurry vision swept over the lobby briefly, but from what you could tell it was just as fancy -- if not, fancier -- than the lobby of the hotel. And once again you were struck by how different you and Jimin were. To live in a kind of place like this, pull countless bills out of his wallet without looking, and drive such a nice car...just how rich was he?

 “Having second thoughts?” he asked as you stepped into the elevator.

 “No,” you said, hoping it wasn’t a lie.

 “You can walk away any time, you know,” he murmured and squeezed your hand. “I won’t get mad. I’ll be pretty sexually frustrated, but not angry at you. You know that, right?”

 You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “I know. But I want this. I want you, Jimin.”

 His eyes closed and his lips pursed as he tipped his head back. “I thought I told you to be careful about saying things like that. I’m so worked up right now it’s insane. But thank god you don’t wanna leave because you’re so much better than my hand.”

 “You should be careful about what you say too,” you moaned as you imagined him bent over, fist wrapped around his cock. Your thighs pressed together and rubbed. “You’ll make me cream my panties again.”

 Jimin laughed but it sounded tortured and you watched as he blatantly stuck a hand down the front of his pants and readjusted himself. His sigh of relief echoed the ding of the elevator as you finally reached the top floor, Jimin’s floor.

 “Thank god,” he muttered, tugging you to his front door.

 You’d never seen someone punch in their keycode so quickly as Jimin all but threw open his front door and ushered you inside. The moment it closed behind the two of you, he started ripping off his jacket and yanked  on his tie.

 “Need anything?” he asked as he hastily undressed. “Water?”

 It seemed that even overwhelmed by passion and alcohol, his thoughtful and caring side was still prominent.

 “No,” you said as your hands went back to the button of your jeans. “Just you.”

 Jimin made a noise in the back of his throat as he scraped his hands through his disheveled hair and stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Gone was the immaculate, princely catalogue model who’d first offered you a drink in a hotel where you didn't belong. In his place was a man desperate for the feeling of your soft skin under his hands, your voice in his ear, and your taste on his tongue. So desperate that he couldn't finish undressing and reached for you instead.

 You let him grab your hips and smash your mouths together, your hands immediately flying to the nape of his neck. As your nails massaged his scalp, he walked you backwards.

 “My bed, I want you in my bed,” he managed between hard kisses.

 You kept stumbling backwards, nipping his lips and the warm skin of his jaw. Piece by piece, you helped rid him of his clothes. You tugged off his tie, unbuttoned his white dress shirt and pulled that off too. And then your hands were sliding over the smooth, warm skin of his shoulders and down the curved line of his back. Your fingertips danced across his sides and over the firm muscle of his stomach. It had been impossible to tell when he'd been wearing the suit but he had abs, much to your surprise, which were apparently well defined as they flexed under your exploring hands.

 The backs of your knees eventually hit what felt like a bed. Jimin went to push you, gently, back onto his mattress but you suddenly remembered your conversation in the taxi and knelt down out of his reach. He made a confused whining sound until your hands fiddled with the buckle on his belt and then he understood.

 In the dark, half blind, and drunk, it was difficult to undo. Jimin noticed your struggles and pushed away your hands. You frowned, about to insist that you could do it, when he walked away and flipped the light switch and returned.

 You squinted at the sudden brightness but focused on his belt. And suddenly, you were nervous.

 “What's wrong?” Jimin’s hands stroked through your hair. “Need help?”

 You shook your head and cleared your throat as you resumed working on his belt. “No, I've just never had sex with the lights on before,” you admitted.

 You hadn't realized that until just now and even though it was weird, the bright light made it feel different. And you weren’t exactly sure if it was a good different.

 “Never?” It looked like Jimin’s eyebrows rose in surprise but you were too focused on undoing the belt and sliding it out of his pant loops. When you were finished, he walked back over to the wall and hit the light switch again, plunging the room into darkness.

 It took a second for your eyes to readjust again, the only light being moonlight from the half-covered, full-length windows.

 “We can keep the lights on,” you said.

 Jimin’s laughter was soft and sensual. There was a small click and the lamp by his bedside table turned on, casting his bedroom in a low glow. It provided just enough light for you to see, but kept it dark enough so you weren't uncomfortable.

 “Compromise.” He shrugged, returning to the foot of the bed where you still waited.

 You didn't say it, but you appreciated his thoughtfulness. Jimin was so naturally attentive, tuned in to your needs. It was a nice change. Jimin was a nice change. The whole night, he’d done nothing but help you again and again, never asking for or expecting anything in return.

 You know you didn’t necessarily owe him anything for his kindness. But you did want to show him how much you appreciated it.

 “I can’t wait,” you told him as your hands landed on the front of his pants.

 Jimin groaned, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you cupped his dick through the soft material. He was still hard and you knew that it had to be getting painful so you wasted no time in unbuttoning his pants. Shamelessly, your hand reached inside, pulled the waistband of his underwear underneath his balls, and freed his cock.

 It bobbed, smacking against the hard muscles of his stomach before you curled your fingers around him. He was long and thick, hot and hard. The head was flushed and soft and when you licked your lips in anticipation, he twitched in your hand.

 Your mouth actually watered at the sight of him, a warmth spreading low in your belly. You’d never been this excited to blow a guy before.

 Gripping the base of Jimin’s cock firmly, your tongue licked the underside of his head before you wrapped your mouth around it. Jimin’s soft grunt made you smile as your lips slowly retreated, leaving his cock with a kiss. Looking up at him, you licked his tip and kissed it again before rubbing it against your lips, testing the softness.

 Lush and warm, just like his ruined lips.

 He stared down at you, biting those ruined lips so hard you could see the indents of his teeth, eyes glazed with pleasure. His hands were fisted at his sides and his stomach flexed every time you teased the tip of his cock by putting it just barely in your mouth. Each time you did, his jaw tightened and he looked like he wanted to grab the back of your head and cram his cock down your throat.

 The thought had you shockingly wet and you shifted on your knees, trying to relieve the ache between your thighs.

 When you decided he’d had enough teasing, you finally swallowed him down. He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a whine, hips pushing into your mouth.

 “Ah, shit, that’s it.” His low voice made you shiver and squirm.

 You pulled back, a line of spit connecting your lips to his cock. “You taste good,” you said and his hands clenched. Keeping your eyes on his, you tongued the slit of his head, tasting bitter salt.

 “Fuck,” Jimin snarled as he watched you, jaw grinding. He held still as you worked, swallowing him again and again, your hand pumping whatever you couldn’t reach, until his dick was coated in your saliva.

 Your hand slipped up and down his length easily, the slick sounds making your inner muscles clench.

 Jimin’s hands were still by his sides, fisted so hard that the veins stood out on his forearms. And after a minute, you realized that he was forcing himself not to touch you, even though you could see how much he wanted to. His gaze burned into you, telling you all the dirty, wicked things he was imagining.

 You popped his dick out of your mouth, licked him from base to tip and pumped him slowly. “You can touch me, you know,” you whispered.

 He twitched in your hands and his eyes grew dark. “You sure? I don’t wanna be too rough with you.”

 “But I want you to,” you said. The thought of his hands in your hair, pushing his dick past your lips, fucking your mouth, had you getting wetter by the second. Your panties were probably ruined. Looking up at him with a small pout, you squeezed his dick. “Please, Jimin?”

 His eyes flashed. Then his one hand was fisted in your hair and the other gripped your jaw. “Open,” he demanded. “Stick your tongue out.”

 The second you complied, he shoved his cock into your mouth and pushed in until you felt him at the back of your throat. Your eyes watered as you valiantly fought your gag reflex, digging your nails into his firm thighs still covered by his pants.

 “Fuck,” Jimin panted as he pulled out and shoved back in. “Keep your hands there. Pinch me if it's too much.” Despite his growling tone, his words were careful and tender.

 You moaned around his cock.

 “Shit, you feel good.” He started pushing into your mouth, holding your head still with one hand in your hair. “Your mouth is so hot and wet, just like your pussy. Can't wait until I get to fuck you like this. I bet you can't either,” he whispered frantically, the words tumbling from his lips like he couldn’t help himself.

 You moaned again in agreement, doing your best not to choke.

 “God, you look so good right now. Hair all messy, spit all over your chin, my dick in your mouth…” Jimin kept rambling. “I wish you could see how you look. It's so sexy. And you're not even naked yet, shit -- ah, that's good.”

 Each word made your pussy throb. Your fingers dug into his thighs, wanting nothing more than to be buried in your underwear and stroking your burning flesh.

 Pushing in once more, till he touched the back of your throat, Jimin pulled out of your mouth. His wet cock rested against your lips as you sucked in deep breaths, spit dribbling down your chin.

 “You good?” He looked down at you, waited for your response.

 “Yes, Jimin, please,” you said, trying to fit his cock back in your mouth.

 “You like it that much?” Jimin obliged, tugging on your hair as his dick pushed past your lips again. He kept both hands on your head, holding you still as he shallow-fucked your mouth. Each thrust wrought a hiss from Jimin’s mouth. “Ah, fuck, fuck… You’re so good at this.”

 You whined, thighs trembling. All of the noises Jimin was making, his grunts and hisses and low moans, had you aching. And his words, wrapped in that smooth voice, set you on fire.

 “Are you getting wet from this?” he asked. “I think you are. You were practically dripping in the backseat from just my fingers. Do you remember that? Remember how you came all over my hand right in front of the driver? Fuck, that was so hot.”

 Your hips writhed and your hands fisted in Jimin's pants as your whole body actively recalled how intense that orgasm had been. It was getting harder and harder to keep your mouth open so wide, your teeth getting dangerously close to scraping Jimin’s dick. Your jaw would be sore tomorrow but you didn't care.

 He kept thrusting into your mouth, the sounds sloppy and lewd.

 You couldn’t believe how turned on you were. You’d known that some people could receive pleasure just by giving it but hadn’t really understood how it was possible until now -- the room was a symphony of wet thrusts and Jimin’s noises as he used your mouth. Those sounds, the fucked-out look on his face, was reward enough for you. Making him feel good had a direct affect on your arousal.

 And you wanted to make him feel really good.

 One of your hands snuck between Jimin’s legs and you cradled his balls. They were velvety but hard, making it difficult to roll them around in your palm. So you gave them a gentle squeeze.

 His hips stuttered and you tasted salt on your tongue.

 “Fuck--ah--fuck.” Jimin pulled out of your mouth and grabbed your wrist. His chest was heaving as he gripped the base of his cock, precum oozing from the tip. “Shit, you almost made me come,” he wheezed, eyes scrunching shut as he tried to wrest control over his impending orgasm.

 You were busy trying to catch your own breath, relishing the sore feeling at the back of your throat.

 “Not that I wouldn't love to come in your mouth,” Jimin said, “but I’m far from finished with you.” His eyes narrowed while he absentmindedly worked his fist over his glistening cock.

 You watched, mesmerized. The way his first swirled around the head before sliding down and squeezing the thick base… You pressed your thighs together and whimpered, imagining how good the stretch would feel when he was finally inside you.

 It made you realize just how empty you were again.

 “Jimin…” Your voice was breathy.

 He reached down with the hand that wasn’t languidly stroking his cock, thumb wiping away the spit on your chin. “Hm?”

 “I need you,” you all but begged. And just in case he didn’t believe your sincerity, you dipped your chin and let his thumb pop into your mouth. Your tongue wrapped around his thumb and you sucked on it pleadingly before saying, “Please?”

 “Fuck,” he whined, but it was a low sound. “Do you have any idea how sexy you sound when you say that? When you look at me like that and say please it makes me lose my goddamn mind.” He pushed his thumb further into your mouth, letting you suck on it for just a few more seconds, before he pulled it out and helped you stand up.

 Though you were a sloppy mess, your hands still went to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Jimin’s lips landed on your wet, swollen ones with a hungry moan. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, his cock pressing against the soft material of your t-shirt. Sucking on your bottom lip, he began pushing up your hemline. His fingertips grazed along your heated skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

 You broke the kiss just long enough to take your shirt off and fling it to the ground.

 Immediately, his hands were on your breasts, plumping them up through your bra. Your nipples were stiff points and every time his thumbs caught on them, you sighed.

 “So pretty,” Jimin murmured against your lips.

 You hummed in agreement, your fingers traveling down his toned stomach to stroke his dick, still silky wet with your saliva. He grunted and pinched your nipples in retaliation.

 “Oh!” Your inner muscles clenched hard around nothing, a fire burning in your belly. “Jimin…”

 He sighed, nuzzling the side of your neck and sucking hard on the skin there. “I love when you say my name, too. Just like that.” His teeth scraped along the bruise he’d left, making you shiver. “You’ll scream it louder for me, won’t you?”

 “Mhm…” You nodded, anticipation thick in your throat as you felt his hands skim down your sides, to the waistband of your jeans. They were already unbuttoned and unzipped, revealing the soaked cotton of your panties.

 He pushed your jeans down to your thighs and you helped him by shimmying and then kicking them off. Your underwear followed next; he went more slowly, admiring the way they stuck to your core and how your arousal was smeared all over your thighs.

 “You’re completely soaked, Y/N. All this for me?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he cupped you, fingers pushing past your swollen folds. He teased your slit, rubbing up and down, brushing over your clit. You stifled a needy sound, making him realize that you couldn't take any more teasing. “Take your bra off and lie down.”

 Finally.

 Excitement had you practically vibrating in place. You flung your bra across the room and collapsed back onto his mattress, your back sinking into the plush material, legs spread wide and presenting your glistening folds.

 Jimin shucked off his pants and underwear before joining you on the bed. He hovered over you, his dick burning the skin of your stomach. Though you were both impatient and more than ready, he took his time becoming acquainted with your body. His hands massaged your breasts again, testing how firm yet soft they were, pinching your nipples. His lips skimmed the tops of them before he planted hot, open-mouthed kisses and sunk his teeth into the pliant flesh. He touched you with intent, like he was trying to memorize everything about you.

 Your fingers carded through his hair, tugging him further down to where you wanted him.

 He went willingly, lips skimming your stomach and teeth lightly scraping a trail down to your hips. His hands followed later, cupping and squeezing your body until they reached your thighs.

 “God, you’re so pretty, baby,” he whispered and you stiffened.

 Though it was Jimin sitting between your legs, Jimin’s hands on your thighs, Jimin’s voice in your ears, you felt and heard him in your head. Jaejoon. As he touched you, kissed you, whispered “baby” and promised you all sorts of things that would never happen.

 In your chest, your heart began to ache.

 Jimin noticed the change immediately, freezing. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling back and looking into your eyes. Something on your face must have given him an answer because he made a sympathetic expression, hand rubbing your hip soothingly. “That’s what he used to call you. It’s okay, I won’t do it again.”

 You shook your head. “No,” you said hurriedly and grabbed his arm. “No, it’s okay. I-I want you to.”

 You couldn’t stand the fact that Jaejoon was the last man to have held you, touched you, called you sweet things. Because now, even though you were with Jimin, you couldn’t help but think of Jaejoon and you hated it. Even now, he was still controlling you; you couldn’t let him continue to disturb your life.

 It wasn’t like you could erase Jaejoon from your past or your memories, but you could definitely create new ones. Better ones. Ones that had nothing to do with him.

 “Make me forget him, Jimin. Please?” you whispered.

 Even in your drunken and lustful state, you realized it was a lot to ask of him, someone you’d only met that night. But you could not deny how he made you feel or that he could make all your aches and pains go away. If just for a little while.

 He smiled down at you, brushed your hair out of your face, and dropped down for a soft kiss. “You know I can’t say no when you ask so nicely,” he murmured against your lips, hands groping your thighs. He began kissing his way down your stomach again. “Do you remember what I told you in the taxi? It’s just you and me here. There’s no room for anyone else.”

 His words sunk into your skin, filling you with warmth. Everything around you smelled like Jimin, his sheets and pillows, making it almost impossible to forget who you were with.

 But just in case that wasn’t enough, Jimin decided to remind you.

 “I’m the one kissing you.” He nipped your hipbone and the muscles in your stomach jumped. “I’m the one touching you. I’m the one fucking you. And I’ll do it so thoroughly that after tonight, you won’t even be able to remember his name, baby.” His hot breath tickled the insides of your thighs and your still-wet core, making you shiver.

 “Jimin,” you hummed, stroking your fingers through his hair.

 He looked up at you from between your thighs, smirking. “Just you and me, baby.”

 You writhed on the bed when he parted your lips with careful fingers, bringing his tongue to your burning folds. He worked the flat of his tongue up and down, gliding over your entrance, teasing you. You pushed your hips against his face, impatient, but he held you down while he buried himself deeper. The bridge of his nose pressed against your clit and you whimpered, pulled on his hair.

 “I was right. You taste so good.” Jimin released your sensitive flesh, licking his lips with another wicked grin. His fingers stroked through your wetness before he pushed two inside of you all the way.

 It was deeper than it had been in the taxi.

 You moaned, wiggling against his hand, urging him to move.

 He curled his fingers inside you and dragged them out slowly, pushing back in. “You’re still so tight,” he observed quietly.

 You swallowed past your dry throat. “I-It’s been a while for me,” you admitted. “Jaejoon and I haven’t had -- ”

 Jimin’s fingers twisted inside you suddenly, making you yelp and jump. He thrust into you hard, his thumb finding your clit and strumming it mercilessly. Your mouth dropped open and your voice came out in breathy, hoarse pants.

 The ability to form words left you.

 “How am I supposed to make you forget about him if you keep bringing him up?” Jimin mused. “It’s just you and me here, baby. I want to hear you say that.” His mouth returned to your pussy, sucking so hard on your clit that you saw stars. When you didn’t respond, he did it again, fingers never slowing. “Say it, baby.”

 Your chest heaved as he forced you towards your orgasm at an incredible speed. You couldn’t focus, too overwhelmed with his voice, fingers, and tongue. But somehow your mouth managed to form the words you both so desperately needed to hear.

 “Just -- ah, Jimin -- you and me. Nobody else.”

 “That’s right, Y/N.” His voice softened, obviously pleased, and he rewarded you with a light kiss to your swollen clit. But still, his fingers pumped inside you, and your inner muscles contracted over and over again, signaling your approaching release.

 “Jimin -- oh, my god.” You pushed your head back into the pillows, curling your fingers in his hair. “Please, please,” you gasped, “I need you inside me. Please.”

 He came to a slow halt, confusion flashing briefly on his face because your orgasm was so close that he could feel it. But then he smiled. “You want to come on my cock, is that it, baby?” You looked down at him, gnawing on your bottom lip, and he groaned. “I want that too. To feel you squeeze my dick while you let go…”

 You whimpered, feeling empty. So empty that it was painful. And you were so tired of being empty.

 You were about to say please again, too far gone to be ashamed of begging, but then Jimin slid out from between your thighs. He reached into the drawer of his bedside table, pulled out a condom, and you watched as he tore the little foil packet and rolled the rubber onto himself.

 “Remember, safety first,” he chuckled, an echo of your own words from earlier that night.

 You were just thankful that at least one of you was level-headed enough to remember protection.

 Then he was back where he belonged and you rubbed your foot against the back of his thigh enticingly. Your orgasm was hovering just out of reach and when Jimin began to slide his dick between your folds, rocking against you slowly, you felt yourself tightening. He rubbed his dick against your clit, keeping you on the edge.

 “How did he fuck you?” Jimin murmured.

 “Like this,” you answered, hips rolling, seeking more. “Always like this.”

 “Always?” Jimin’s brows rose. “Well, while this position is nice,” he slid his cock down to your entrance, pushing the flushed head just past your lips, “I’m sure there are others you’d love.” He sank in an inch and you sighed, grabbing his arm. Slowly, Jimin pushed himself inside you, letting you adjust to the stretch and burn, until he bottomed out and his balls pressed flush against your ass. “Ah, fuck, you really are tight,” he said in a strained voice, hands clenching on your hips.

 He filled every inch of you. You swore you could feel him in your throat. And though it had been a while since you’d had sex and there was a definite burn as you stretched around his length, you urged him forward with your foot, desperate for him to start moving.

 “Jimin, please…”

 That one word had him shuddering above and inside you, powerful and effective. You hadn’t meant for it to become a weapon, but it seemed that it had.

 Jimin’s arms were shaking as he pulled out and pushed back in with a grunt. “You feel amazing, baby,” he groaned as he thrust deep and slow, hitting every ridge inside of you. Each thrust pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your walls rippling around him. “You gonna come?”

 “Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, a hand twisting in the bedsheets, “I’m gonna come.”

 “That’s it, baby,” he panted. “Let me feel it.”

 Just like in the taxi, Jimin powered you through your orgasm. His hips rolled into yours as he continued to fuck you nice and deep, never slowing. It was so strong that you were sure you stopped breathing for a few seconds, your toes curling, as you lost control of all of the muscles in your lower body.

 Your voice eventually returned in the form of high-pitched, breathy whines. Each thrust made you cry out, clamping down on his dick.

 Jimin granted you mercy after a few more well-aimed thrusts, slowing to a stop to let you come down from your high and catch your breath.

 “How’d that feel?” he asked.

 “So good,” you croaked, swallowing.

 You’d come twice tonight. You couldn’t believe it. Not once, but twice.

 Very rarely had you achieved an orgasm with your ex-boyfriend, and never more than once. Sometimes, you’d faked one just so that he would feel good about himself, then finished yourself off later that night or in the shower. And every time you had, you’d felt guilty about it.

 You’d started to feel like maybe there was something wrong with you. But Jimin was making it very clear that there was nothing wrong with you at all. Your ex-boyfriend had just been bad at sex.

 Jimin slipped out of you with a chuckle. “This’ll feel even better, I promise.”

 Before you could ask what he was doing, Jimin flopped back onto the bed and rolled you on top of him. You gave a startled yelp as your leg swung over his hip, leaving you mere inches from sitting on top of him. He stared up at you with a gleam in his eyes, his swollen and bitten lips stretching into a grin you had become very familiar with.

 He reached between your bodies and fisted his cock with one hand, using the other to guide your hips. Slowly, you sank down on him, feeling him stretch your walls from a brand new angle. You shuddered on a sigh when you were fully seated, his dick brushing over that especially sensitive spot inside you.

 He was right, this position felt even better.

 You felt so wonderfully full, your body ached to move, and yet you kept still. You looked down at Jimin, who had both of his hands on your hips, fingers digging into your skin, and who was biting his ruined bottom lip.

 “Go ahead,” he urged when you hesitated. “Ride me.”

 You swallowed, bracing your hands on his chest, feeling the heat sear your palms. It wasn’t that you’d never ridden a man before, because you had, and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to continue.

 But as you looked down at Jimin, taking in the sweat gathering at his brow and his fucked-out expression, you realized something and guilt slammed into you. He was doing all of this for you.

 Jimin’s expression changed, his brows pulling together. “What’s the matter? Does it hurt?”

 “I’m using you,” you murmured, suddenly feeling horrible and selfish.

 But Jimin just smiled and reached up to push your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Baby, I’m more than glad to let you use me,” he said. “And it’s not like I’m not getting anything out of this, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve got a beautiful girl sitting on my dick, I can’t complain.” He was grinning again but the look softened. “Whether it’s just revenge sex on your ex or keeping you from being lonely, I’m more than willing to help. I’ll be your band-aid tonight.”

 His words made something stir in your chest, your guilt fading.

 Right, you told yourself. He was a rational, consenting adult and so were you. Needless to say, the alcohol had definitely played a part in this but you still didn’t think that you would regret anything. And you didn’t think he would either.

 He was helping you because he understood what it was like. There was no reason to feel guilty.

 Confidence renewed, you lifted your hips and brought them back down, relishing the groan that it brought from Jimin’s lips. His eyes were closed as you began to move, putting all your weight on the hands you’d braced on his chest.

 “You were right,” you groaned after a few moments of silence, the only noise being the slap of your hips. “This is so much better. I can feel you so deep, Jimin.”

 You brought yourself down hard, your breasts jiggling. Jimin watched them carefully before snaking one hand up your torso and taking one of your breasts. He squeezed the fleshy mound hard enough to make you stutter.

 “I wish you could see yourself, bouncing on my dick,” he rumbled, eyes roaming over your body constantly like he couldn’t focus on just one thing. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N, I mean it.”

 His hands went back to your hips, tightening, and he thrusted up into you, making you gasp. You collapsed forward into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as he thrust into from below. Each stroke was measured and hard and he kept swiveling his hips as if looking for just the right angle.

 He knew he’d found it when you screamed his name. “Jimin!”

 Brows furrowing, one hand curving around your back and the other gripping your ass, he poured all of his concentration into hitting that one spot. Over and over and over again. Until you were making wordless noises against the sweaty skin of his neck and scraping your nails along his shoulders to try and keep yourself grounded.

 “Think -- ah -- think you can come again? One more time?” he rasped in your ear.

 You honestly didn’t know if you were capable of that. Your body was boneless, the pleasure having overridden your senses. You told him as much, or at least you tried to, your lips being stuck to his neck.

 “I think you can, baby.” Jimin dug his heels into the bed, used the leverage to drive into you even harder. The hand on your ass snuck between your sweat-sticky bodies and found the place where you were joined, seeking out your abused clit. “Come on,” he grunted as his fingers began to rub in jerky figure eights, “just one more time.”

 “Jimin!” You repeated his name, over and over again, till you were hoarse. And incredibly, you felt yourself climbing towards that third release.

 It washed over you as quickly as it had approached, less powerful than the first two, but no less pleasurable. You came apart, shaking on top of Jimin as he praised you and kissed your neck and your shoulders, any part of you that he could reach.

 “So good, baby, so good,” he whispered, voice straining.

 His thrusts were getting sloppier, his grip tighter, and you realized that he was about to come. He followed you a few seconds later, hissing and grunting, mumbling your name. You swiveled your hips, grinding down, and he groaned long and low, the sound coming deep from within his chest.

 And then both of you were quiet and still, gasping for breath.

 There was no room for words in his bedroom. But your bodies continued to communicate between the hot, sticky sheets and the muggy air.

 His hand stroked up and down your sweaty back, massaging the junction of your neck and shoulders. Your lips peppered kisses all over his collarbone and neck. Basking in the afterglow, your eyes drooped and your body went limp.

 You fell asleep that night feeling whole.

  You woke sometime the next morning with a sharp, gritty pain in your left eye but surprisingly no hangover. You tried to ignore it, your body sore and exhausted, but eventually you had to leave the plush pillows and rub your eye. Apparently, you’d fallen asleep with your contact in, never having bothered to take it out even though you’d lost its partner.

 Sitting up, the dark blue sheets tangled around your legs, you realized that you were alone in bed. The faint sound of running water told you that Jimin was showering.

 A shower sounded heavenly to your achy muscles and oily hair. But first, you had to get rid of your contact.

 Gingerly, you scooted off the bed, groaning when your stomach, thighs, and everything in between protested. It had been a long time since you’d been fucked that well. But it was also nice in a way.

 The band-aid had worked.

 Taking out your dry contact, you found a trash can and threw it away. You had to buy more anyway.

 You went to go back to bed but out of the corner of your eye you spotted your jeans crumpled on the floor, the bulge of your phone prominent in the pocket. For some reason it made you realize that you had no idea what time it was. You yawned, looking around the room for a clock. Not finding one, you bent over and scooped up your phone.

 When you turned it on, you expected the missed phone calls from Jaejoon, your ex-boyfriend. You were surprised at how good it felt to call him that.

 You felt to regret at all.

 What you didn’t expect was six texts and two missed calls from Krystal.

 Krystal: yah y/n you never called me [8:33 am]

 Krystal: i know you read my texts… are you okay?? [8:33 am]

 From Krystal: hello???? [9:04 am]

 (1) Missed call from Krystal [9:06 am]

 Krystal: okay youre probably holed up somewhere but you know that we have that exam today right? [9:12 am]

 Krystal: its starting in like 15 minutes y/n seriously where are you?? [10:42 am]

 Krystal: youre really freaking me out here [10:42 am]

 (1) Missed call from Krystal [10:44 am]

 Your eyes blew wide as panic settled in your stomach like a heavy weight. “Shit!” You threw your phone onto the bed and began racing around the room to gather your clothes.

 You’d forgotten about your exam.

 You got so caught up in the betrayal, alcohol, and amazing sex that it had totally slipped your mind. Not only was that utterly unlike you, it was potentially career-crippling. If you missed this exam, you would have to reschedule and attempt it again in another six months -- you couldn’t wait another six months!

 You managed to locate your t-shirt, jeans, and socks. The only thing you couldn’t find was your underwear. But, you decided as you glanced at your phone, you didn’t have time to look for it.

 So you crammed your feet into your jeans, tugged on your shirt, and ran out of the bedroom. On your way out, you passed by the bathroom and heard the shower running, once again reminding yourself of Jimin.

 You hesitated for the briefest of seconds, debating.

 You had no idea what the proper etiquette was for this sort of situation, you’d never had a one night stand before. Were you just supposed to leave quietly? Was that why he was showering, to give you a chance to escape? Or were you supposed to let him know you were leaving?

 Were you supposed to thank him?

 “Ah, I don’t have time.” You cast one last regretful look at the bathroom door before slipping on your shoes.

 It would be a miracle if you made it to the exam site on time.

  Jimin stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in his silk robe, steam billowing around him. He would have preferred to shower last night to wash off all the sweat and other body fluids but you’d tired him out more than he wanted to admit.

 In his head, he pictured you as you sat on top of him. Glorious and sweaty, with pouty lips and bruises all along your neck and chest, your hair sticking to your face. The way you whined his name while your hips worked…

 Amazing.

 Grinning, he looked over at the bed. And startled when he saw that it was empty.

 He frowned, padding into the bedroom to look for you. Pursing his lips, he noticed that all of your clothes were gone. He wandered around the rest of his penthouse, searching for you, but after ten minutes he all he found was a hastily scribbled note pinned to his fridge with a magnet.

 Sorry!

 He took the note with noticeable disappointment -- you’d left.

 Jimin headed back to his bedroom with a sigh.

 Well, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been expecting this outcome. But, still, he’d hoped that you would have at least waited so he could see you off. Then again, he supposed that most one-night stands went exactly like this. And that was all that this had been.

 You’d made that clear.

 Or maybe not, he thought as his brows rose, his eyes snagging on something. Peeking out behind the leg of his bedside table were your cotton panties.

 “Maybe not,” he told himself as he picked them up, grinning.