#and i’m not coming up with 6 letter names for all of them i’m not That invested in his AU

[asahicore]

bad news first - sjy (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. From the moment you'd met at eight to the day he moved to South Korea at fourteen, you and Jake were inseparable. But after years of being apart, you've come to terms with the fact that at twenty, you and Jake just aren't what you used to be. That is until you get a text from him, and all of a sudden, he's back by your side, doing his year abroad at the university you study at, and all your feelings for him float back up to the surface. genre. college au, childhood friends to ???? to lovers, painful mutual pining, one bed trope..... a sprinkle of angst (my hand slipped) but mostly fluff i promise and smut (mdni!!!), also i made sunghoon really weird in this and idkw, this is set in scotland.. edinburgh uni rep!! word count. 23k author's note. everybody say happy belated birthday to @zreamy.. happy belated birthday zo!!! being 22 years and 6 days old is cooler than just 22 years old anyway.. hope you like it bestie... if you dont... well theres a building on campus thats 17 stories high sooo.. enjoy! i hope everyone else enjoys too, since this is a bday fic for zo she couldnt beta read so i had to raw dog this so if its terrible.. not my fault! lmk what u think!! i also made a playlist for this, do listen along!!

“Alright kids, good news or bad news first?”

You looked at your teacher, then at the boy next to you, then back at your teacher. “Bad news first,” you said in unison.

You were only eight, but you were both wise enough to know that hearing good news second would assuage the blow of whatever these bad news were. Miss Dawson sighed as she crouched in front of you. “The bad news is your bus driver is on strike and won’t be coming. The good news is that your parents have been informed and are coming to pick you up soon.”

Following her instructions, you headed to the gymnasium and sat there silently among the other kids. Not many kids in your class rode the bus home, and the ones who did seemed to have drivers not on strike, so it was just the two of you. You were used to that, though - over January and February, you had made a sort of silent pact to stand and wait for the bus together. You sometimes shared snacks, but you never spoke. For some reason, you felt at ease with this boy, even though you didn’t know much about him. You had heard he had moved to Brisbane just at the start of this year, all the way from South Korea. You were pretty sure his name was Jake.

You handed him one of your Twix bars. Then he spoke. “I thought a strike was when you did really well in bowling.”

“Same,” you replied, mouth full of chocolate and caramel. “I’m not sure why that would keep the bus driver from picking us up.”

Jake looked at you with wide eyes, distress clear in them. “Do you think he went bowling instead of picking us up?”

This made you frown. “That’d be really rude.”

“It would. I always make sure to go bowling on the weekends, ‘cause if I missed school that’d be rude to Miss Dawson.”

You nodded your head in fervent agreement. “For sure.”

That weekend, his mum called your mum to ask if you wanted to go to the bowling alley with them. From then on, for the next six years, you were stuck together by glue. 

--

Twelve years later, Jake’s name appearing on your phone screen has become such a rare sight, you don’t believe it right away. It takes you a few seconds of intense squinting at the letters to actually realise your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

jake.sim15 hey y/n!! you go to edinburgh uni right?

You type and delete three different responses before settling for a simple yeah, I am! what’s up?, hoping you sounded nonchalant even though you very much felt chalant. You thought that whatever you sent wouldn’t be as weird as taking forever to answer such a straightforward question. 

As you wait for Jake’s reply, you scroll through your previous shared messages, noting with sadness that for three years in a row, the only instances you’d texted were to wish each other a happy birthday or when he reacted with a fire emoji to Stories of your dog, Milo. Before that, your last conversation was to congratulate each other about getting into your top choice universities and to discuss plans for your respective futures.

Futures that used to include each other, you think. His reply appears at the bottom of your screen before melancholy can fill your heart.

jake.sim15 i applied to go there for my year abroad next year annnnd i got in !! heh

You shoot up straight from your seat on the lounge chaise you’d been sunbathing on, a loud “Oh my God!” involuntarily escaping your mouth. 

“What? What happened? Is everything okay?” Chaewon asks frantically, rushing over to your side. “Oh,” she says when she sees your phone. “It’s a text… from a boy?” 

This makes Yunjin, previously unbothered by your panic, rise from her seat and take off her sunglasses. “A boy? Show me,” she demands, snatching your phone from your hands before you can protest. Upon seeing the texts on your screen, she lets out a loud gasp. “It’s not just any boy! It’s the one and only Jake Sim himself.”

“Give that back!” you plead, hand reaching for your phone, but Yunjin is already walking away.

“And he’s coming to Edi this September, apparently. He says he’s sorry for not saying anything earlier, but he was waiting for an answer up until now.” She scoffs. “Leave it to our uni to tell someone they’re in less than two months before term starts. Oh, you’re the first person he’s told, Y/N! After his parents. How cute,” she coos, protesting when you snatch your phone back from her. “Hey! I was reading that.”

“Those are my texts, Yunjin. I’m the one who’s meant to read them.”

She shrugs. “You would’ve told us anyway.”

“What are you going to reply?” Chaewon asks. With the both of them hovering over your shoulders and watching as you type a response, a sort of stage fright comes over you, making you send what might be the most unoriginal reply known to man.

“Awesome? Seriously, Y/N?” Yunjin reads, disproportionately disgusted with you.

“That’s a lot of exclamation marks. It almost makes it look like you don’t mean it,” Chaewon says.

“I do mean it!”

“Well, he seems to like it. A smiling-with-teeth emoji is a good sign, right?” she asks in an attempt to make you feel better.

“He has automatic caps off. That man is run-through,” Yunjin says, shaking her head as she walks back to her sunbed.

“You were excited about him texting me just a second ago,” you reproach.

“Yeah, before I found out he was a whore.”

“Yunjin, you know we don't slut-shame here!” Chaewon exclaims. Before Yunjin can say anything even worse in response, your phone starts ringing, and Jake’s name appears on your screen. “He’s calling you?” Chaewon gasps, making Yunjin sit up with a start for the second time in less than five minutes.

“This man is insane,” she remarks with all the seriousness in the world.

You run away from your friends, finding refuge in the outside kitchen area out of earshot. They don’t need to hear your conversation with Jake. You love them, but they can be weirdly unsupportive in moments like these.

“Hey, Jake,” you greet, hoping he doesn’t notice the breathlessness in your voice. It was because you had just ran, of course - you didn’t want him to think you were so nervous about talking to him after such a long time, you could barely breathe. Because you weren’t. At all.

“Hey, Y/N!” he replies, and the excitement in his voice makes your heart melt. “I hope it’s not weird that I called, I just thought it’d be nicer than texting, is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s nice to hear your voice,” you say before you can really think about it, and cringe at your own words. Years without talking and the world’s worst line is the first thing you say to Jake. Thankfully, before you start excruciating yourself, a chuckle pours out of Jake’s throat and blesses your ears.

“It’s nice to hear your voice, too. What are you up to?” 

“Oh, I’m on vacation with my friends. One of them has a rich aunt who owns a villa in southern Italy, so we’re just chilling by the pool right now.” 

“You always wanted to go to Italy! That sounds so nice,” he says. Your breath catches gently in your throat - he remembers, you note.

“Yeah, it really is. What about you, how are you spending the summer?”

Jake tells you about the local bookstore owned by a grandpa that’s always had a soft spot for him and that gave him a part-time job for the summer. “I’m trying to save up as much money as I can before I leave. If I treat you to a meal, will you show me around the city?” he asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice. It makes you realise how much you’ve actually missed him.

“You don’t need to treat me to a meal, I’ll show you around anyway.” 

Still, he insists, and you find yourself giving in quickly - because it’s Jake or because free food is on the table, you’re not sure. Probably both. 

You and Jake get to talking, but fitting years and years of catching up into one conversation is an impossible task, and before you know it, when you check your phone, you’ve been talking for over an hour. Yunjin is angrily waving at you, pointing at her stomach to indicate hunger like a caveman who’s just learned how to communicate. You apologise to Jake, telling him you have to go, and plan to meet during fresher’s week before you hang up.

A few hours later, you get a text from him saying it was nice talking to you and jokingly asking whether Yunjin was satisfied with lunch. It’s innocuous, but it opens a gate for more texting, which leads to long, rambling voice messages, which leads to late-night phone calls that remind you of when you were fifteen and still kept in touch. When August fades into September, you feel like you’ve got your best friend back. 

You remember why you were so in love with him at fourteen.

--

You see Jake before he sees you.  

Among the throngs of people, you manage to spot the dark, messy flop of hair on his head weighed down by a nice pair of wireless headphones. After a thirteen-hour flight from Seoul, a four-hour layover in Frankfurt and a final, two-hour flight to Edinburgh, he looks rightfully exhausted, using what looks like the last of his energy to spot the exit and the airport bus stop. Even wearing a simple denim jacket, white tee and grey sweatpants, he’s so gorgeous you forget what you came here for, until he almost walks right past you without seeing you. You put yourself in his path and hold your hand-written banner up, making yourself as obvious as you can as you call out his name. 

When he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks for a second, someone almost running into him before he remembers the crowd behind him. His tired features break out into a bright smile that has your heartbeat speeding up so much, you think it might run out of your chest. 

He had told you not to come, that it would be late for you and he didn’t want to bother you, but you had managed to get the information of his arrival before he forbade you from picking him up so you did it anyway, wanting to surprise him. After years of being apart, rather than waiting another day, you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

Jake briskly makes his way to you, dropping his bags next to him on the floor as he engulfs you in a hug, warm and tight as if he’s trying to make up for all those years. You hug him back as if someone would appear out of thin air and take him away from you again.

“This was the longest day of my life, I’m so happy to see you,” he says when he pulls away, and you’re so happy you can’t even say anything back, resorting to giggling and lightly swatting non-existent dust off of his shoulders. 

As you wait for the bus, he tells you about every trivial thing that happened to him on his trip, from how expensive a sandwich is at the airport to the German kid sitting in front of him that kept turning around to stare at him on his second flight.

“How did you know he was German?” you ask, amused.

Jake pauses. “Just vibes.”

Conversation on the bus is slightly disjointed as you jump from topic to topic with random pauses here and there before one of you finds something to talk about - but it’s okay, you hadn’t expected for the two of you to be as easy as before. It’s more awe at seeing each other after such a long time than awkwardness. Even though you’d caught up over summer, there was a world of difference between speaking on the phone and actually sitting next to him. You notice things like the shine of his hair, the creases that form on the sides of his lips when he smiles, or, unfortunately for you, the veins that run along his forearms and hands - things you hadn’t noticed previously thanks to the sometimes questionable quality of the front camera of his phone. Once in a while, your thigh brushes against his, and it reminds you that he’s really here. Even that he’s real, at all. 

In a tragic turn of events, Jake lives in the student accommodation you used to live in in first year, and coming back to it two years later is slightly traumatising. His three-person flat is in a different building as your old one, and you marvel at how it somehow still smells the same - like dusty, decade-old carpeting and the permanent stench of students’ dubitable cooking. He’s the first one to move in, which makes the place slightly eerie, but it means that you’re not bothering anyone by unpacking Jake’s stuff and cooking Shin Ramyun the previous tenants had left behind at 11pm. 

Your late dinner was meant for you to take a small break, watch a couple episodes of Friends which Jake had been shocked to learn you’d never watched, and you had been shocked to learn he was a die-hard fan of (since one year ago), then get back to unpacking. But the ramen sends an already exhausted Jake into a food coma so intense, he falls asleep on your shoulder five minutes into the second episode. 

You let him sleep as long as he needs, turning the volume down on his laptop and stifling your chuckles as much as you can. You feel like a cat has fallen asleep in your lap - you are now obliged by law to stay still until Jake wakes up. It’s not until an hour later that Jake’s uncomfortable sleeping position forces him awake, lifting his head off of your shoulder with a grunt. He looks around himself, at his room that’s not quite familiar to him yet, then at you, eyes still scrunched with sleepiness as a grin blooms onto his lips.

“Sorry,” clearing his throat of its grogginess. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one a.m,” you reply, and his eyes go wide.

“You should’ve woken me up! Does your shoulder hurt?” he asks, much more alarmed than he should be, and it makes you laugh.

“It’s all good. But now that you’re awake, I should probably head home.” 

“I’ll get you an Uber,” he says, already pulling out his phone. 

“It’s fine, Jake, my place is a ten-minute walk from here. I live just up the road.”

Jake’s fingers on his phone pause as he looks up at you. “Then I’ll walk you home.” He lifts a finger in warning when he sees you start to protest. “And don’t fight me on this. You did so much today, it’s the least I can do.”

As much as you love the idea of spending more time with Jake, even if it’s just ten minutes, you still don’t want to bother him when you know how tired he is. “It’s really safe around here. I can just text you when I’m home, if you’re worried about me getting kidnapped or something,” you say, taking his jacket from his hands and placing it back on his desk chair.

He grabs it back, putting it on before you can take it from him again, and rummages through one of his suitcases for a black, woolly scarf. Neither of you speaks as he wraps it tight around your neck, even though the early September weather isn’t cold enough to warrant it. His hands stop briefly on the scarf and a small smile spreads on his lips. You hope he doesn’t hear your sharp intake of breath when your eyes meet. “It’s not about that,” he says simply, voice low and unlike you’ve ever heard it before. You don’t think his voice had quite finished cracking when he’d moved away back then. 

Suddenly, he steps away, grabs his keys, and heads for the door. “Let’s go!” he says, voice back to its usual cheery tone. You don’t find it in you to question him, so you just follow him out, welcoming the night breeze that cools down your burning cheeks with open arms. 

The walk to your place is mostly done in comfortable silence, but it still goes by too quickly for your liking. You keep your hands in your pockets to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like reaching out for Jake’s hand that swishes back-and-forth as he walks. Instead, you bury your nose in his scarf and relish in the unfamiliar but comforting smell that his cologne has left behind on the fabric. You hug goodbye when you reach your flat, and you have to remind yourself to let go. He insists on you keeping the scarf. “My mum packed me, like, three, so you can have that one.” 

“Your mum still pack your things for you, does she?” you ask, tone playful.

“No-” he says, voice slightly whiny, before he realises you’re just teasing him. “Whatever,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You hope the streetlights aren’t bright enough for him to notice the flustered look on your face. The both of you stand there awkwardly for a second, before he lets out another chuckle. “Right. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you beam.

“Okay,” he says, but still doesn’t make a move to leave. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll be off then.” He gives you one last smile then turns around, burying his hands in his pockets, and you watch as he walks away.

“Get home safe,” you call out after a few seconds. 

He pivots on his heels, and, with a wave of his hand, says, “I will! Go inside.”

“Good night!”

“Night, Y/N!”

When you walk into your living room, Yunjin is sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, gaze trained on the wall opposite her, one lamp lighting the otherwise completely dark room. She looks like a detective in one of those bad cop shows.

“Gosh, what’s all this for?”

“You’re back awfully late,” she says, neither looking at you nor answering your question.

“Yeah, I was with Jake,” you shrug, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. She abruptly gets up from her seat, following you into the other room and staying close behind you.

“And?” she demands, mouth way too close to your ear and making you start.

“And what?” you ask. 

“What do you mean and what?!” she says, clearly agitated. “I want to know everything!”

“There’s nothing to say, really. He seemed happy I picked him up from the airport, then I helped him unpack. He lives in Riego, by the way.”

“Ew.”

“I know, it was awful going back there.”

The two of you stare at each other as you drink your water. “Well?” she asks.

“What?”

“Is that it?”

You fill your glass again to take it into your bedroom. “I don’t know, we just ate and watched Friends.”

“You hate shows with laughing tracks,” she states like it’s an accusation.

“It wasn’t actually that bad,” you reply, shrugging.

She tuts. “Love will do ugly, ugly things to a person.”

“You’ve been in a loving relationship for the past two years.”

“This isn’t about me. Can we talk about how you’re still in love with the same loser from when you were ten?”

“I was fourteen, and don’t call Jake a loser when you haven’t even met him.” You ignore the roll of her eyes. “And I’m not. Not anymore. I’m just happy to have my friend back.” Yunjin gives you a look. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little bit in love with him. But it’s so little, it’s barely there.” Her expression is unchangingly unimpressed and you can’t help but throw in the towel. “Alright, fine. I still love him, what about it?”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I know that, no need to remind me.”

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

“My patheticness? I’ve tried, didn’t really work.”

“No, idiot, about Jake. You should go and get him! It’d be so sexy if you got together as 20-somethings after knowing each other since you were babies.”

“We were eight when we met. And I don’t know if sexy is the word I’d use here.”

“Anything is sexy if you try hard enough,” she says, and you have to laugh. “Anyways, you should confess your undying love and tell him you’ve felt that way since you met.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Guys might not show it, but they probably get all hot for stuff like that. Boosts their ego and shit.”

“Yunjin, I just got my friend back, I’m not gonna risk it. Plus, who knows, I might not actually be in love with him. It might just be my emotions acting up, like, seeing someone I used to like after a while. We’ve both changed so much, once I get to know him more now, I might not even feel the way I used to.”

“Notice how you’ve used the word might twice in ten seconds? You’re just trying to find excuses.”

You groan. “This is why I hate English Lit people.”

“You do English Lit.”

“I know, and I’m the only nice person that does it.” In your head, you add and Jake, but saying it out loud would only make this conversation worse for you.

“What’s that scarf, by the way? Did he give you that?”

You look down at the scarf like it’s a piece of incriminating evidence. “Can you stop grilling me, please? It’s late.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You sighed deeply. “Fine. Yes, he gave me-”

“It’s not even that cold outside!” she exclaimed in an outrage. “Don’t tell me he also walked you home?”

You pause. “He did.”

She gasped. “He walked you home because he’s in love with you.”

“He walked me home because he’s a good friend that looks after me.”

“He walked you home because he realised how hot you’ve gotten and he wants some of that.”

All you can do is sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

“If you weren’t such a coward, you wouldn’t be going to bed alone.”

“Whatever!” you say, shutting the door behind you, shaking that preposterous conversation out of your head. When you get into bed, it takes you at least half-an-hour before you can settle down, but you know your constant tossing and turning isn’t due to your inability to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in. Between your evening with Jake and Yunjin’s pestering, thoughts run wild and incoherent through your head. 

You want to tell her every little thing that happened with Jake tonight, but you’re afraid it might do you more harm than good. She is most definitely the type of friend who will take the smallest action a guy did for you or the most meaningless thing he might have said and turn it into a sign that he has the hots for you, which usually does wonders for your confidence, but right now, you don’t need that kind of delusion. Did seeing your childhood best friend you used to secretly harbour feelings for make you feel some type of way? Of course, but that doesn’t mean you still love him after all this time, after six years of being apart, the majority of those years spent with no contact. It wasn’t like you parted ways with resentment, or anything of that sort, far from it; rather, you drifted apart naturally, as two teenagers with over 7000 kilometres between them would. At first, you’d call frequently and even write each other letters - but as you became more preoccupied with school, friends, and extracurriculars, your phones gradually rang less and your mailboxes became gradually emptier. You don’t even remember who sent the last, unanswered letter. 

Tonight isn’t the first time you replay the moment Jake announced that he would go away, but it’s the first time it’s a bittersweet memory. It used to only be bitter - but now that you’ve reconnected, you can look back at it with fondness, wishing you could tell fourteen-year-old you the hurt would only last so long. 

It hadn’t started unusually.

“So, bad news first, right?”

In your six years of friendship with Jake, this had been the first time you’d really been wary of what he would say next. The look on his face told you that this bad news wouldn’t be as easy to shake off as usual. Your definition of bad news was things like I got grounded so I can’t hang out, I forgot we had a test tomorrow so I can’t hang out, my allergies are acting up again so I can’t hang out.

“I’m moving to Korea next month.”

I’m on another continent, so I can’t hang out.

You remember the words not quite making sense at the time. “Oh? How long are you staying there?” you said, taking a bite of your strawberry ice cream which Jake had insisted on paying for, even though you knew he didn’t get much allowance.

“Forever.”

You stopped chewing, and the ice cream melted uncomfortably in your mouth. You don’t know how long you stayed there, frozen as you stared at your best friend in disbelief. It wasn’t until he lightly shoved your shoulder, only meeting your eyes for a split second, that you remembered to swallow and to say something.

“Forever as in… You won’t live here anymore? At all?”

Jake shook his head. He kept his eyes trained on the vanilla-chocolate ice cream sandwich he’d left in its wrapper. In the blazing hot Brisbane summer, it had probably fully melted two minutes ago. “At all.”

“Oh,” was all you found yourself able to say. For some reason, you hoped that continuing to eat your ice cream would stop you from crying, but to no avail. Hot, salty tears quickly started raining down your cheeks, mixing with the sweetness of your ice cream when they reached your lips. 

“It’s my dad’s work. Same reason why I moved here when we were kids in the first place. They wanted him here then, they want him back there now. We just have to follow,” Jake explained, sounding just as upset as you felt.

“Right.”

“Are you mad at me?” Jake asked, worry clear in his voice, and finally turned to face you. At the sight of you crying, he let out a small oh, tears of his own pooling in his eyes.

You frowned. “Of course not. I’m never mad at you, you know that. I just… You’re my best friend, Jakey. It’s gonna be so lame around here without you.”

“It’ll be lame there without you, too.”

You attempted a smile. “Well, of course. But at least you’ll get to make new friends, see new places. You’ll be in a whole other country, I’m sure you’ll have fun there. I’m gonna be stuck in boring old Brisbane for the foreseeable future.”

“Do you know how offended our friends would be if they heard you speaking right now?” he asked, nudging your shoulder with his.

You sniffled and let out a chuckle. “They’re all great, but… I don’t like them nearly as much as I like you,” you said, staring down at your hands, hoping he wouldn’t realise exactly what you meant by that statement.

A weight was lifted off of your shoulders when Jake answered. “I like you the most too, Y/N.” You tried not to think too much about whether he’d meant it platonically or romantically - none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of his arms around you, his warmth enveloping your whole body, his familiar scent that you already missed. 

You felt him take a deep breath against you before he pulled away. He sniffled and did his best to put on a smile. “Right, enough of that. I’m not leaving until next month, so don’t think you’re rid of me just yet,” he joked, and it helped alleviate the weight on your heart, even if just a little. “You said you had something to tell me? Good news after bad news, and all that.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot about that.”

You thought for a second. Today was the day you had planned to confess your feelings to Jake - you’d only told him you had good news to share. But what was the point now that he was leaving? If he felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if he didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

Jake tilted his head, waiting for you to speak. In a split second, you made yourself forget your disappointment over having built the courage to tell him how you felt only for it all to fall through, and resolved to make the most of Jake’s last month here. You wiped your tears and mirrored his small smile as best you could. “Um, it wasn’t anything much. My mum made those cowboy cookies you like.”

Jake’s head fell back as he groaned in anticipation. “If she wasn’t happily married with three kids, I’d marry your mum. Let’s go right now.”

You laughed. “There’d be a bit of an age gap there.”

“We’d make it work,” Jake joked, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards your house. He beamed down at you, his bright, boyish smile that you loved to bits, and you beamed up at him as you grabbed the hand that hung off your shoulder in your own.

You walked as happily as you could. “Do you even speak Korean?” you suddenly asked.

Jake halted abruptly in his steps, a gravely offended look on his face. When you looked back at him in confusion, he rolled his eyes and started walking again, pulling you with him. “It’s literally my mother tongue, Y/N. I speak it every day at home.”

“Oh, right.”

At the time, you thought nothing could come between you and Jake. Not anyone, not anything, neither distance nor time. But they did. A week after he’d left, a boy from your class you’d talked to maybe once or twice asked you out on a date. You weren’t sure why, but you said yes. Then you said yes to being his girlfriend, even though you didn’t like him all that much, and you even said yes to reducing your texting with Jake because it made him jealous. When you’d broken up with him and wanted to catch up with Jake and apologise for your absence, you’d found that his new school in Seoul was a lot more demanding than yours in Brisbane, and he had to spend most of his evenings in academies if he wanted to get into a nice university. It’s when you learned that he���d be staying in South Korea for college that you decided to leave Australia too. Brisbane was a lot less fun without him there - why bother staying? You couldn’t go to him because of the language barrier and the cost of university there. If you were to essentially uproot your life, might as well go somewhere you could get a scholarship and understand the people around you. 

It seemed insane that someone you had thought would be by your side for the rest of your life, someone that was part of your most cherished memories, had been reduced to someone you casually texted once in a while. It seems even more insane that now that you’re finally done essentially grieving your friendship with Jake, he stands in front of you again, six inches taller but still donning those puppy-like eyes and smile of his.

For your sake, you just hoped you wouldn’t be as in love with him at twenty as you were at fourteen.

--

The next day, you show Jake around campus, which wouldn’t normally take more than ten minutes, but takes double that time because of the sheer amount of people there. Between the Societies Fair taking up most of the square, the tour guides leading freshers, walking slowly and taking in their new campus, and the pizza and drinks stands, freshers’ week always turns campus into what feels like the busiest place on Earth. You try not to let it hit a nerve for Jake’s sake, who’s clearly ecstatic at all the activity, but you like this place a lot more when it’s quieter. You walk through the Fair, laughing as Jake marvels at all the different clubs and societies at the Uni. 

“Gardening Society? Dungeons & Dragons Society? Wine society?” he exclaims, astonishment growing with every passing stand.

“And this is only the first day. They also have a Taylor Swift Society.” He grabs a flyer from about every society, even though you know he’ll join between two to zero of them. 

When you walk out, there’s a girl handing out samples of shampoo and conditioner, and you let her give you one, more out of politeness than anything. 

“These are so useless,” you start, and Jake chuckles, unaware of the incoming rant. “I had that job of distributing them last year, and we would get a tip if we gave them all out. So naturally I put a bunch in my bag, but then I had to use them for like two weeks.” You sigh. “First of all, my hair did not like it. And second, the ratio is so off. There’s way more conditioner than shampoo when it should be the other way around, so you have to condition your hair even though it’s not properly clean. So stupid.”

“Sounds terrible,” Jake says, laughing. “Is that why you’re not doing it this year?”

“Oh… Not really. I dated the guy that takes care of this promo stuff, so it would’ve been kinda awkward…” you trail, immediately wishing you could backtrack on conversation. Talking about your ex with Jake wasn’t on your to-do list for today. Or ever.

“You dated your boss?”

“The manager, yeah, I guess. He was only 24, though, don’t worry.”

“I’m more worried about the power imbalance than the age gap there.”

You shrug, looking down at your shoes. “It’s not like he was that high up.”

“So, what happened? Why did you break up?”

“Well, he acted like our four-year age difference meant he could treat me like a little kid. It was nice being taken care of at first but then I realised how condescending he was and dumped him.”

“How long were you together?”

You pause. “Two weeks,” you admit abashedly, making Jake chuckle. “At least he didn’t waste my time and showed his red flags early on.”

“Any boyfriends since?” he asks, and you wonder whether you’re making up the unsure tone of his voice. As if he’s curious, but doesn’t want to show it too much. You hope you’re not making it up.

“A few, but they never last very long with me,” you say, a meek smile on your lips. “Furthest I got was three months.”

“And why didn’t it work out with three-months-guy?”

“He started comparing me to his mum a bit too often.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I ran out of there without looking back.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you’ve got high standards. I would hate to see you date just any loser.”

You want to say, High standards or issues?, but you don’t want to make it weird, so you play it cool instead. “I would never. I have a mental checklist with everything a guy needs to have for me to date him.”

“A checklist? I have to hear about this.”

You sigh, debating whether you should tell him about it. Would he notice it’s based on him? Would he notice the only person that could tick practically every box was none other than him? Jake gently elbows your side, goading you on. When you look at him, he’s got a shit-eating grin playing on his lips, and you give in. You look off into the distance as you start listing your requirements. “Well, there’s all your basics like funny, taller than me but not too much, ‘cause I don’t want neck cramps, smart, takes uni seriously, has plans for his future, easy to talk to, not emotionally stunted and can actually have a vulnerable conversation. It’s also a bonus if he has a nice face.”

“How much of a bonus?”

You think for a second. “It’s more a dealbreaker than a bonus, actually. Nice smile is a must, definitely.”

“Okay. Got any more specifics?”

“I do have some particular ones. It’s nice if he’s a reader, but it’s terrible if it makes him think he’s better than everyone or if he tries to sound smarter than me. I like it if he has experience, I don’t want to have to teach him everything. But obviously I don’t want him to still be in love with his ex. Guys and their first loves, I swear… I also don’t really like picky eaters.” You look over at Jake and take a double-take. He’s typing away on his phone, but because of his privacy screen protector, you can’t see anything. You huff. “I also don’t like it if he has those protective screens on his phone. What’s on there that’s so important that I can’t take a peek? What are you even doing?”

The sweet sound of Jake’s giggles erases any trace of annoyance that you felt seconds ago. He turns his screen towards you, showing the list of mostly ticked boxes that he’s written up. “See? I check most of these,” he says with a proud smile. “Guess your standards aren’t that high.” You don’t tell him that your standards are high, he’s just that amazing. 

You do your best to look only amused at this even though inside, you’re all but freaking out. “Which are you missing?”

“Well, I clearly own a privacy screen. And I don’t have much experience. Not nearly as much as you, by the sounds of it,” he admits, somewhat sheepish. “But other than that, I’m practically the perfect man for you.” He looks down at you with a smile so bright, it makes you wish you had brought sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to scream right then and there. Yes, Jake, you are the perfect man for me, but I wish you wouldn’t say it like it was a joke.

You let out a stiff chuckle, and, rather than saying something stupid and possibly damaging, shift the conversation to him. “What do you mean by not much experience? Have you not dated anyone?”

Jake sighs. “Nope, not anyone. I went on a few dates, you know, went through a few talking stages and all that, but it never went much further. There was always something…” He glances at you then. “Missing.”

“I know that feeling,” you say with a chuckle, and he laughs too, a breathy sound.

“I don’t have a checklist to pinpoint what it is, though.”

You smile. “You should try, it might help.”

“I just… I guess I’m like you in that I also have high standards. But it made me not even want to give anyone a chance, especially since I knew it wouldn’t end up anywhere.”

“Don’t tell me no one has ever managed to reach the great Jake Sim’s standards?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Jake smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course someone has. She’s the whole reason I have standards in the first place. It’s not my standards I compare people to, it’s her.”

Jealousy has never made you feel as sad as it is right now. “And… it didn’t work out between you?”

Jake looks at you, eyes searching for something in yours but seemingly not finding it, and so he turns his gaze away. You don’t know why you feel so disappointed. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “She didn’t feel the same way.”

Whoever this girl is, you can’t believe how stupid she is for passing up the opportunity to have Jake Sim. “That’s… It sucks, I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t think spitting on this girl would make him feel any better, so you keep those thoughts to yourself.

“It’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “It was a while ago already.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re quite over it, though,” you say, and you’re surprised but glad to see his smile widen.

“That’s true.” His eyes meet yours again. “I don’t think I’ll be over her anytime soon, either.” You have to look away to shield the pain that flashes through your eyes from him.

Pretending you don’t have feelings for your best friend and that you’re okay with him being in love with someone else is like riding a bike: even after years of not doing it, it only takes a few minutes for you to be able to do it perfectly again. Muscle memory, if you will. So you sigh dramatically and throw your arm around Jake’s shoulder, slightly pulling him down to your level. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have so much fun this year, you’ll completely forget about her. Promise. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Yeah?” 

He smiles down at you. You want nothing more but that glint of melancholy in his eyes to be gone. “Yeah.”

--

Jake is only half-glad to see you haven’t changed much from your childhood and early teenage years. You’re still just as pretty, just as warm; it’s still as comfortable to be around you. You’re also still as dense.

Then and now, he did everything he could to make his feelings for you very, very obvious. Either you’re completely oblivious, or the idea of dating him is so horrifying to you, you understand but pretend you don’t. He really hopes it’s the former. 

He arrived in Edinburgh just a bit over a week ago, and you’ve seen each other almost every day. Out of those times, there isn’t a single one where he hasn’t tried to send something your way - something that says, hey, what if we stopped being friends and dated instead? Wouldn’t that be cool? Can’t you see how desperately I love you?, but you never latch on. The ball’s in your court, and he wants you to throw it back, but it’s been feeling more like a boomerang that always hits him right in the face when it circles back than a game of catch.

But he’s reminding himself not to be too greedy. Even if it’s just as friends, at least he has you back, so he’s satisfied with that. For now.

His first class of the year is on the following Tuesday morning, a ninety-minute seminar specifically made for exchange students called Discover Scotland. (He has Mondays free, resulting in a three-day weekend, which you and your 9am Monday tutorial are very envious of.) As interesting as the English Lit courses he’s taking seem, it’s this one he’s most looking forward to - except for the one class he shares with you, of course. Not even because of the seminars themselves, which will be about all sorts of topics on Scottish culture and history, but because of the coursework, as crazy as that sounds. It consists of a singular project, not due until the very last day of the semester, in which he has to travel to at least three different places in the country, research its background and provide a detailed account of his experience there. It can take any form: a written report, an in-class presentation, a podcast, anything. He could even film a TikTok if he wanted. Jake knew that being part of the Arts & Crafts club for two years in a row back in Seoul wasn’t for nothing - his scrapbooking skills would finally have their time to shine. 

That afternoon, he practically snatches you as you come out of your lecture, giving you little time to say bye to your friends, and makes you take him to the biggest stationary store you know in the city. If he wants to ace this project, he will need supplies. Many, many supplies. And it’s more fun shopping if you’re with him. You seem happy following him around the store, and when he asks you if you want to come on his trips with him, he can pretend it’s because you seem so excited about his project and not because he had thought of you accompanying him as soon as he heard about it.

As you stand in line at the till, you tell him that if he wants to start his project now, you could go to the beach together. You raise your eyebrows at him when he snaps your head towards you. “There’s a beach here?!”

“Did you not look at a map before coming here?” you ask, amused.

“I guess I didn’t…” he says, distraught at the new information. It only lasts a second, though. “Okay, let’s go now.”

“Now?” you echo, and he nods. “But-” you start, but are interrupted by your thoughts. “I guess there’s no reason not to. The weather’s nice and it’s not like I have any uni work yet. Let’s go,” you agree, looking up at him with a smile. You’re so pretty he almost forgets to look away, until the employee calls Next in a bored drawl. 

An hour later, you’re at the beach, barefoot on the sand and ice cream in hand. Strawberry for you and vanilla for him, he notes with a smile. Really not much has changed, he thinks. From the sand, to the water, to the promenade along the beach, Portobello is worlds away from the beaches back home in Australia, or those of Jeju Island. But it’s still nice, and because you’re with him, it’s even better. You’ve been walking around for an hour, splashing each other with water and mercilessly ruining sandcastles left behind before he realises you technically came here for his project. He writes down things he doesn’t want to forget on his phone and snaps a few pictures, sneaking a few of you when you’re not looking. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are with your hair blowing in the wind and the way the chill bites at your cheeks, but he keeps it a secret between him and his Notes app. 

Even though he lives two stops further down, he gets off from the bus with you, containing his excitement as best he can when you invite him up for a cup of tea. “Depends. What tea do you have?” he asks, trying and failing to play it cool. He’s just grateful he doesn’t have to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you.

You roll your eyes playfully as you unlock the front door to your building. “I can make you hot chocolate, Mister Tea-Is-For-Old-People.”

He chuckles. “Actually, I’ll have you know I started drinking tea at uni.” When you turn around to look at him, a surprised look on your face, he nods proudly. “Mh-hm. I got addicted to caffeine very quickly into first year so I started drinking black tea for the sake of my heart,” he explains.

“God,” you say breathily, sounding mildly horrified. “A caffeine addiction sounds intense.”

“It was, yeah,” he says, laughing as he follows you into your flat. 

Yunjin and Chaewon are sitting at the living room table, watching an episode of what he thinks is Gossip Girl, and they greet him as normally as these two can, but he wonders what the knowing look they exchange is all about. He’d met them the previous weekend when you had all gone for drinks together, along with Jay, Yunjin’s boyfriend, and they had all but grilled him on his relationship with you. He hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to your friends feeling protective of you, and truthfully, he was just happy to get to talk about you. But now, he was wondering if you had told them anything about him that made them so curious about him. If you did, he hoped it was something positive.

He stands awkwardly in the kitchen, chatting with you as you boil the water and get cups out, but he can feel their gazes burning the back of his head. Clearly, whatever conversation he’s having with you, he’s also having it with them. “How do you take your tea?” you ask.

“Um, three sugars and lots of milk, please,” he says, smiling innocently when you slowly turn to look at him, a mix of disapproval, disgust, and offence on your face. 

You sigh deeply. “I mean, I’ll do it, but I’m not sure that’s even tea anymore.”

“You’re one to talk, Miss Caramel Frappuccino,” he says, recycling your bad joke from earlier.

“At least I don’t claim to be drinking coffee when I order a frap,” you argue. “And this is how you battled your coffee addiction? You’ll be getting another kind of heart problem, Jakey.” He doesn’t know if you even notice your use of his old nickname - the first time you’ve used it since he’s been here - but you don’t make a big deal of it, so he doesn’t either. Not outwardly, at least. Mentally, he’s running laps around your small kitchen.

Jake laughs it off. “I thought I came here for tea, not a health check-up,” he says, smile growing wider at the sight of yours. 

“Right, sorry,” you say, giggling. “I’ll make your tea just how you like it,” you add in a sweet voice. Jake knows you’re just doing it as a joke, but it still manages to make butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

His tea tastes even sweeter that day.

--

A few days after your impromptu trip to the beach, you’re waiting for Jake outside of his class. He heard of this donut shop he “absolutely needs to visit” and is dragging you along with him - well, “dragging” is a big word considering you’d follow him anywhere. You got here a few minutes early, not needing much of a reason to leave the library, so you scroll through your feed until Jake calls out your name. You’re only mildly surprised to see Jay leaving the classroom behind him.

“Y/N! Can you believe that Jay and I are in the same class?” he says excitedly as the two boys walk toward you. You feel like a dog owner being greeted by their over-enthusiastic dog after a long day (about three hours) of being apart.

“I can believe it, actually. You two do the same degree.”

You exchange quick greetings with Jay before the three of you start heading out. As you walk, Jake throws his arm around your shoulders so casually, it almost throws you off balance. Physical contact always came easy to him, but there’s something about him doing it next to someone else that catches you off guard. It reminds you of walking somewhere with Jay and Yunjin as they discretely held hands. It makes you feel like it’s not the three of you, but Jay with the two of you. Like you and Jake come as a pair rather than as two individuals. 

All of that from a simple arm around your shoulders.

Jake asking you in a very unsubtle whisper whether Jay can come with brings you out of your head and back into the conversation. “Yeah, of course,” you say, smiling. It’s not a bad idea to have Jay along: hanging out with someone else might snap you out of your delusion.

Most of the walk to the shop is done in laughter as Jake and Jay realise how much random stuff they have in common, from their peanut allergies to the embarrassing Harry Potter phase they had as fifteen-year-olds. Grassmarket is really busy on Friday afternoons, and there’s a bit of a queue of other donut-enjoyers in front of the boutique, but you don’t mind. The sun is shining down gently on the square and it gives you time to choose your donut out of the ten or so flavours available. In the end, you go for white chocolate and raspberry, while Jake chooses Biscoff and Jay, tiramisu. 

“My friend Sunghoon would love this,” he says after taking a hearty bite. “He goes crazy over tiramisu. Like a cat with catnip.”

Jake chuckles, mouth full of Biscoff. “That’s funny, I also have a friend named Sunghoon who loves tiramisu back in Seoul.”

Jay punches Jake’s shoulder, eyes wide in amusement and shock. “Bro, that’s crazy. You have to be lying at this point,” he says, but Jake shakes his head fervently. 

“I promise I’m not. I’ve even saved his number with the tiramisu emoji.”

“There’s a tiramisu emoji?” Jay asks, already over questioning the existence of Jake’s Sunghoon.

The conversation circles back to the courses you’re all taking this semester, and Jake tells Jay about Discover Scotland and the trips he’s planned so far. “Well, if you really want to discover Scotland as a student, you need to go on a night out in Glasgow,” Jay says. Going by the look on Jake’s face, Jay’s idea seems to have struck a chord in him.

“Y/N?”

You nod, finishing your mouthful of donut before speaking. “Yeah, Glasgow’s really fun. We should go,” you say, laughing when the two boys high-five in victory. Between the train, the drinks and the club entry, going out isn’t a cheap ordeal, and getting to and fro also takes a while - even so, the smile on Jake’s face makes it worth it. 

He wipes some raspberry jam from the corner of your mouth, shooting you a wink, and you want to disintegrate right then and there, become one with the bench you’re sitting on and never have to face him again. The conversation resumes as Jay tells Jake about all the best places to go out in Glasgow, but you don’t hear a word - the feeling of Jake’s thumb so close to your lips takes away your ability for coherent thought.

“It’s decided, then. We’re going out tomorrow night,” Jay loudly announces. “Let me gather the troops.”

That’s how you find yourself in line for the club the next day, already tipsy from pre-drinking on the train and at the pub. It’s still warm enough for you and the girls to wear as little clothing as you want, but Jake insisted on giving you his flannel jacket anyway. If not for the warmth it brings, you’re glad to have his scent enveloping you.

The five of you work exceptionally well together. You, Chaewon and Yunjin have been a given since you met in first year, and Jay and Yunjin went so well together that he was but a natural addition to your little group. Jake’s only been here for over a week, but it’s like he’s always been around, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Him and Jay hit it off immediately, and although the girls needed some time to warm up to him (it’s not everyday that you meet your friend’s ex-best-friend she’s practically always been in love with; you understand why they might’ve been wary at first), they now tease him just as relentlessly as they do Jay. He takes it like a champ.

For a little while, you watch your friends speaking over each other, bickering over nothing, a smile on your face. Two pints of cider and some of Jay’s fancy vodka have made you more grateful than ever for them - if you drink too much in the club, you’ll be hugging them and crying about how much you love them. You’re not sure what that might look like around Jake, so you decide to keep yourself in check for the night. 

It takes about thirty minutes before you manage to get into the club. It’s not coat check season yet, so you head straight to the bar. “Sunghoon said he’d meet us here,” Jay says, lifting his head to spot his friend in the sea of drunk students. “Oh yeah, there he is! Hoon, hey!” 

You hear a loud “Jongseong!” being shouted from somewhere in the crowd, but you’re not sure who Jay is waving at until a boy whose face is mostly eyebrows is standing - well, standing as best as he can, with the copious amount of alcohol he’s obviously already consumed - in front of you. He gives Jay a hug and the three of you a nod of his head, a lopsided smile on his face. When he turns to Jake, his eyebrows lift first, then his face breaks into a wide grin.

“Jake, my man!” he shouts, taking a stunned Jake’s hand and bringing him into a hug. 

“Sunghoon? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, chuckling and frowning in confusion. 

“I’m just partying, man! Same as you!”

“No, I mean here in Scotland, you dumbass!”

“You two know each other?” Jay asks, looking back and forth between his two friends.

“Jake’s my man!” Sunghoon exclaims, unhelpful and stumbling as he throws an arm around his man’s shoulders. Jake shoots you a distressed look but you just laugh at him.

“This is Tiramisu Sunghoon I told you about,” Jake says, helping Sunghoon stand up straight.

“God, what I would do for a tiramisu right now,” Sunghoon says, looking at Yunjin like she might relate. She chuckles awkwardly.

“I have no idea what he’s doing in Scotland, though. Hoon, I thought you were going to NYU for your exchange?”

Sunghoon pauses to think for a second, looking like he’s never heard of NYU in his life. “Oh, that! Yeah, I did an online orientation thing and… it did not go well. Let’s just say there’s someone in New York City who wants me dead,” he says conspiratorially. You all stare at him but he gives no further explanation. On your right, you hear Yunjin whisper what the fuck under her breath. “So I transferred here instead!”

“I didn’t know you were an exchange student,” Jay says, still looking just as confused.

“Yeah, man! But anyways, let’s not talk about uni right now. I’m on a bender, day three, baby! Do not talk to me tomorrow,” he says, chuckling until the smile suddenly drops from his face. “I mean that.” You look around yourself, glad to find everyone is just as baffled as you. “Let’s party!” Sunghoon cheers, intoxicated grin back on his lips. Jake and Jay follow, but you and the girls stay back for a second, taking in everything that has just happened.

“That. Is the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Chaewon blurts, staring blankly at the spot Sunghoon stood in a second ago.

“Yeah, he also seems to be a raging alcoholic. And he’s what, twenty-one?” Yunjin says, a scowl on her face. 

“I could fix him.”

“Okay, let’s go,” you say, grabbing your friends by their wrists before either of them can say something worse.

Feeling generous, Sunghoon buys shots for all six of you, and you quickly down them before heading to the dancefloor. On your way there, a group of sober-looking girls hand Chaewon a giant, still almost full jug of red liquid, something that costs at least twelve pounds here. They say they’re leaving and don’t need it anymore, smiling as you profusely and astonishedly thank them. You look at your friends, mentally weighing the risk and drugging possibility this might present, but shrug and pass the jug around after taking hearty sips anyway. It tastes so much like fizzy cherries that you wonder if it even contains any alcohol, but sure enough, twenty minutes later, the three of you are spinning around on the dancefloor, screaming the lyrics to your favourite pop songs at the top of your lungs. Jake at a club is a completely foreign sight to you, and you can’t stop laughing at all the silly moves he pulls. 

You’re shaking your whole body to a Nicki song from the early 2010s when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. Before you can turn around and slap whoever this random man is that thinks he can touch you, a familiar voice whispers it’s just me in your ear, and you simultaneously relax and tense up knowing that Jake is standing right behind you. “There’s a creep staring at you,” he explains, lips and breath gently tickling your ear as he speaks. You look around the room and quickly notice a man standing in a corner, drink in one hand and the other in his pocket, unmoving as he eyes you with a smirk so slimy it makes your stomach turn. To avoid his gaze, you turn around, but you’re not sure the sight you’re met with is much better for you.

Jake peers down at you, eyes slightly glossed over and cheeks flushed from the alcohol, jaw locked in annoyance. He glances at the guy in the corner, who you assume is still staring when you feel Jake’s hands brush along your sides until they reach your waist. His gaze returns to your face as he brings you a step closer to him. Reflexively, you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Is this okay?” he mouths. All you can do is meekly nod. You watch as his eyes deliberately scan your face, going down and down. Time stills when they reach your lips and stay there. It’s like someone has put the booming music of the club on mute, and the only thing you can hear is your heart loudly beating in your ears. You suddenly feel very sober.

You swear Jake’s face is slowly inching its way towards yours when you’re abruptly taken away. Yunjin has grabbed you by the forearm, leading you and Chaewon to the bathroom as she chants “Bathroom break! Bathroom break!”, clearly unaware of the moment she’s just interrupted.

Because of the queue for the girls’ bathroom and Chaewon’s decision to console this random girl who was in the middle of a breakdown, it’s not until half-an-hour later that you emerge back into the crowd. You spot the boys at a table, two empty shots each in front of them and all three with a beer in hand. They will not be happy checking their bank accounts tomorrow morning. 

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jake calls out happily when he spots you, and you can tell right away that he’s much drunker than when you left him. His whole face is flush, his eyes don’t open quite all the way, and a lopsided smile won’t leave his lips - even like this, he’s so pretty that you want to grab his hand and take him somewhere it’s just the two of you. 

Chaewon gets drinks for the three of you and then you’re dancing again. It’s already one am at this point, and the remaining two hours until the club closes, fueled with alcohol and good music, go by in a flash. Before you know it, the DJ is playing All of Me by John Legend and the lights have been turned on, clear signs that you’re overstaying your welcome. The few people that have made it to closing time stumble out of the club and into the street, heading for either the nearest subway stop or the next party of the night. Since there are no trains at this time, your group walks to the close-by bus station, listening to Jake and Sunghoon grumble about how the clubs in Seoul don’t close until at least five or six and how trains run all night there. 

The bus is already at the station when you get there, and the driver doesn’t seem too pleased about having six mildly drunk kids get on his bus, but he’s probably used to questionable people taking public transport at this time of the day anyway. Physically, Sunghoon is sitting across from you, but mentally, he’s off somewhere far, far from this bus. With his head against the window and mouth wide open, saliva pooling at the corner of his lips, he looks like he’s any second away from obnoxiously snoring. Jay and Yunjin are sitting somewhere you can’t see them, probably eating each other’s faces; she once told you they had their “most mind-blowing sex” when both a little drunk, and much to your dismay, you haven’t been able to get that piece of information out of your head since. Chaewon is on the phone to her long-distance bestie Sakura, for whom it’s a nice eleven in the morning right now. 

This means that you and Jake are left alone, both of you still tipsy and not tired enough to fall asleep. You drop your head on Jake’s shoulder, and not only does he let you, he also takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers and placing them atop his thigh. Clumsily, because he now has to use his left hand, Jake slips his phone out of his back pocket and shows you the photos he took all evening. As the night progresses, they get blurrier and blurrier, so much so that towards the end, you can’t tell what he was even trying to capture, and you laugh at how inappropriate some of these would be to submit in a university project. 

When he softly says your name, you don’t raise your head, simply humming to let him know you’re listening. You close your eyes, cherishing the way your name sounds on his lips. It’s his tone, tentative and vulnerable as he tells you there’s something he’s been wanting to ask you, that makes you look up at him. He, however, won’t meet your eyes, and settles his gaze on the window, even though it’s so dark outside you can’t make out a thing.

“How come you never replied to my letter? I know it’s been ages, but… I still find myself wondering about it.” The question is softly asked and you know he by no means wants to hurt you, but it still feels like a punch to the throat. You hadn’t remembered who it was that had sent the last letter, while he’d been wondering all these years why his words had been left unanswered. 

He seems set on not looking at you, so you rest your head back on his shoulder. Your hand is still in his. “I’m not sure, Jakey. I’m sorry,” you say, aware it’s not a satisfying answer. You’ve thought about why you and Jake had stopped talking for hours on end; you’ve discussed it with your friends and your mum, looked at it from all sorts of angles, tried to come up with real reasons other than time pulling you apart. But now that Jake himself is asking you about it, the words don’t come easy. You’ve theorised that you were afraid putting effort into sustaining your friendship would only hurt you in the end, because it was just that - a friendship. You could fool yourself into thinking you were okay only being friends with him when he was with you, that putting your feelings aside was worth it since you could at least spend time with him. But now that he was away, you didn’t have that anymore - it just hurt. So what was the point? And how could you phrase all this without betraying your feelings for him?

“Our letters were so sparse anyway back then, even our texts and calls were getting less and less frequent… And whenever I had a new boyfriend, I’d get into the same argument about being too close to you over and over again, even though you were literally on another continent.” 

“You know, I always felt sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“Those boyfriends of yours. I felt like you waited for me to leave before you started dating-”

“It wasn’t like that!” you exclaim, lifting your head again. Finally, he meets your eyes, gaze softening upon seeing your affronted expression. “It wasn’t like that,” you repeat, relaxing your tone. “If anything, they were the ones that waited for you to be gone. I'm sorry I let their jealousy get to me.”

Jake smiles, the tenderness in his gaze making your whole body turn to jelly. He squeezes your hands. “It’s okay. I just… I felt like I was always in the way of your relationships, even after I left.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry about that. They should’ve had more trust in me.”

He pauses, gaze dropping down to your intertwined hands. “I would’ve been jealous.” When his eyes find yours again, there’s something in them that you quite can’t place. It creates a ball of nerves that pull at your stomach. “If I were dating you, and you had a guy friend you were as close with as we were back then, I’d be jealous. You know, I’d assume he had feelings for you. And that you might have feelings for him, too.”

Because I did, you think. I did, and I still do. You try to communicate that thought to Jake, but telepathy works especially bad when one has as much alcohol coursing through their veins as you do right now. So instead, you say the opposite of what you’re thinking, turning away from Jake to avoid his gaze. You watch the dribble of saliva trickle from Sunghoon’s lips. “That’s not a great view of male-female friendship.” 

Jake’s retort comes immediately. “But we were different, right?”

His words echo through your head until they make even less sense than they did initially. Different from what? From who? You’re not sure - but you like the idea of you and Jake being different, special. You especially like the idea of Jake thinking so. So you look at him and smile. “Right.” 

Slowly, his grin fades and turns into a worried expression. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“We’re still different now, aren’t we?”

You want to wrap him in your arms so tightly neither of you can breathe. You settle for running a hand through his hair and pinching his cheek. “Course we are.” Your whole being relaxes when his face breaks into a smile again. 

--

The next morning, you wake up to Yunjin plopping down on your bed unceremoniously, shaking you awake, and asking you if you want anything from Snax Café. On one hand, you’re grateful that she thought of you and that in thirty minutes’ time, you’ll have the greasiest sausage wrap and hash browns known to man in your hand; on the other, you’d like to think that she knows you well enough to know to order your regular from there without asking. But that’s probably the hangover talking.

You stumble out of bed, thanking last night’s you for having remembered to take headache medicine before crashing. Even if your stomach is very upset with the copious amount of alcohol it needs to rid your body of, and your throat is begging for water, at least your head doesn’t feel like it’s been split into two. As Yunjin barges into Chaewon’s room just as she had done yours, you head for the kitchen to get yourself a tall glass of revitalising tap water. You’re only mildly surprised to find Sunghoon passed out on your living room couch - it takes you a few seconds to remember that the three of you took pity on him when you learned he lived over an hour’s walk from the station, so you let him spend the night on your uncomfortable, cold leather sofa. While you down your glass in three gulps, you hear Yunjin shaking Sunghoon awake and asking him loudly if he wanted something from Snax.

“Fuck, I’d kill for a Snax right now,” he groggily says before he’s even opened his eyes. When he does, they dart around the room until they land on Yunjin, who's crouching in front of him. He looks like he thought her question was asked in a dream and not in real life. He also looks like he's not quite sure where he is, or who Yunjin is. It isn’t until Jay comes wobbling out of Yunjin’s bed to the couch opposite Sunghoon that the memories seem to piece back together in his head. The three of you watch him like he’s an unstable mental patient and you’re his doctors. 

“No need for that, I’m ordering it on Deliveroo.” He nods his head and goes back to sleep for the time being. 

Just as you’re about to text Jake, your phone rings with a call from him. His raspy morning voice as he asks you whether you slept well makes you want to put your head in an oven heated at 200 degrees Celsius. However, you resist the urge, and answer him with a smile, then ask him the same question.

“I slept pretty well too. I’d have slept in longer but one of my flatmates decided to have a Sunday fucking brunch and his friends are so loud. Can I come over?”

You’re very aware of the other people in the room, especially of Chaewon who has just walked in and is eyeing you suspiciously as if to say, Why are you smiling so hard at ten in the morning? You know the girls would jump at any opportunity to tease you about Jake, and with the added presence of Sunghoon in the room, you can’t have that. So you stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat and answer as nonchalantly as you can. It also gives you the chance to reflect on why Jake Sim asking you whether he can come over makes you want to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl so much.

(Maybe it’s because when it comes to him, you’re still the giddy schoolgirl you used to be.)

“Yeah, of course. I was going to ask you if you wanted anything from Snax, actually.”

“Snax? What’s that?”

“Oh my God, Jake, am I about to introduce you to Snax right now?”

Twenty minutes later, the six of you are sitting around your small living room table, all varying amounts of tired, dehydrated and famished as you dig into your breakfast. Given your current levels of energy, it’s fairly quiet; plus, the food hits such a spot that it’s hard to talk and eat at the same time. Jake eats like he’s never had a breakfast wrap and hash brown in his life. It’s an endearing sight if you’ve ever seen one. 

You spend the afternoon together, watching movies curled up in your bed, and you try desperately not to think about the implications of that - except that’s hard to do when Jake is right next to you, legs and arms ever-so-slightly brushing against yours, his warmth so close yet so out of reach. You purposefully let him pick movies you’ve already seen so that you don’t have to focus on anything but your own thoughts and the faint but dizzying scent of his body wash. The both of you had an innumerable amount of sleepovers as kids, so this shouldn’t feel weird, but it decidedly does, probably because you’re much more aware of him now in a way you weren’t before.  

As hard as you try to figure out what exactly he meant by “different,” you draw a blank. The only way you’ll understand is if you ask him, and you’re far too scared to do that. You don’t want to seem so hung upon a singular word he used when he was tipsy. It might be slightly dramatic, but you felt like some sort of balance had been restored since Jake was back in your life - the problem was it made you scared to do anything that might threaten this newfound equilibrium. It at least seems like different means a good thing to him, and that’s enough for you. 

You look over to him when the second movie comes to an end. He’s sleeping peacefully, lashes caressing the skin under his eyes and cheeks looking rounder than usual. It’d be so easy to reach a finger out and trace the line descending from the top of his forehead to his chin, gliding along the bump of his nose and feeling the plumpness of his rosy lips, but you settle for drawing that line with your eyes instead.  

You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep with him next to you and your heart beating so loudly in your ears, but you find yourself waking up a few hours later, the sun already starting to set. Jake is already awake, scrolling on his phone, one arm casually behind his head as if being in your bed is as comfortable to him as being in his own. When he sees you’ve woken up, his honey-coated smile washes warmly over you, and he makes a joke about how he keeps on falling asleep when he’s with you. “I feel that at ease, I guess,” he says, and you hope you’re not making up the small blush that spreads over his cheeks. 

--

Semesters are always a short and intense affair, but this one passes by even quicker with Jake by your side. Before you know it, it’s midterms already, and you and Jake have travelled enough for him to complete his project and make another one just for the hell of it. He had scoured the internet for the cheapest train tickets and most noteworthy sites, planning trips that lasted anywhere between three hours and a day for the two of you. All you needed to do was follow and trust him, which was the easiest thing anyone could’ve asked of you. 

You’ve gone back to Glasgow, during the day, this time, as well as St. Andrews and Aberdeen. You’ve practically visited every loch and castle in a one-hour train ride radius of Edinburgh, and Jake has more lined up for the second part of the semester. He’s even said that your trips should continue being a thing next term, and you couldn’t have agreed faster. With every new destination, every train ride spent looking out a window or laughing about everything and anything, any odd Scottish food you try for the first time, you somehow fall for him a bit deeper. You didn’t know your love for him could bloom any more than it already had - but Jake is the gift that keeps on giving, and, unwillingly or not, he always finds new ways to make your heart speed that much faster.

Attentionate, affectionate, sweet Jake who always makes sure you’re comfortable wherever you go, always gives you his jacket or tucks your hair behind your ear to prevent it from falling in your face. Who, as time passed, grew more touchy, would hold your hand, ruffle your hair, pinch your cheek, which was simultaneously devastating and elating. Who, you could tell, started to linger more, both in his touch and in his gaze. Questions of does he love me back or am I seeing what I want to see? nearly drove you mad. 

--

“I feel like at this point the only way she’ll understand that I like her is if I kill myself and write in my suicide note that it’s her fault for not loving me back.”

Jake has been pacing back and forth in Jay’s living room for approximately twenty minutes, with no end in sight. At least he’ll have gotten most of his ten thousand steps of the day in.

Jay sighs heavily. “Okay, I really don’t think you need to go that far.”

“Sounds romantic to me,” Sunghoon says, mouth full of salted caramel popcorn.

“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” Jay retorts, looking at his deranged friend with a scowl. He turns back to his (slightly more) normal friend and gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I mean, I told her we were different. Different. That we weren’t like regular friends. I tell her she’s pretty every chance I get. I give her my jacket all the time, even though this country is fucking cold. I’ve even given her a t-shirt of mine, sprayed with my perfume and everything. And don’t get me wrong, I do it ‘cause I love doing that for her-”

“Simp,” Sunghoon snickers.

“But what the hell else can I do? Like, she has to be ignoring it on purpose at this point.” 

“You could always, you know… tell her?”

Jake scoffs, fixing his friend with a derisive look. “Wow. What a great idea, Jay, I never thought of that one before!”

A popcorn lands right on Jay’s cheek. “You’re so clueless, man,” Sunghoon says, a shit-eating smirk on his lips. As if he knows any better.

Jay looks back-and-forth between his friends, an expression on his face like he’s been disparaged. “Sorry, I didn’t know being straightforward and honest was such a bad thing. It would just make things a lot clearer for the both of you.”

“But… I’m scared,” Jake says. 

“Man up!” Sunghoon suddenly yells, punching the sofa next to him, making his friends jump. “How can she ever figure it out if you don’t tell her?”

“You were on my side just a second ago, man, what are you doing?” Jake asks, confusion written all over his face. Sunghoon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two boys, retreating into silence as he stuffs his mouth with another handful of popcorn.

“Just ignore him,” Jay says. “But for once, he did say something that makes a modicum of sense. You think you’re being really obvious, but you might not actually be. Which could be a good sign, you know. I heard girls were super aware of a guy liking them if they weren’t into him, but being totally oblivious if they did like him.”

“Where did you hear that?” Jake asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“...Instagram Reels,” Jay reluctantly admits, frowning at Sunghoon who bursts into laughter. 

Jake holds the bridge of his nose between two fingers like his head aches. “You’re both so useless, I’m never coming to you with my problems ever again.”

“I’ll pretend I’m not offended by that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, anyway,” Sunghoon says. He’s smiling but Jake genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“But seriously, if you think you’ve done everything, then just do one last thing that’s so obvious she can’t misinterpret it,” Jay says.

“Like what?”

“Like kissing her, or some-”

“Kissing her?!” Jake echoes.

“That’s wild, man,” Sunghoon uselessly butts in.

“It’s just an example, calm yourselves,” Jay says. “Or, again, just straight up tell her how you feel. It’s what I did with Yunjin, and it worked.”

“You and Yunjin are dating?” Sunghoon asks, bewildered.

Jay shakes his head at him. “Where the hell have you been, bro? We were literally cuddling on the couch the other day.”

“I just thought you were really good friends, or something.”

Jake groans, holding his head in his hands. Sunghoon was of no help whatsoever, and Jay was so on point that it annoyed him. Confessing was the only solution - but Jake was so afraid of being rejected and losing your friendship that he had barely entertained the thought. But he had found the courage to do it once, and even though his planned confession had fallen through back then, he could get himself together and do it again. 

It was the day he had told you he was moving to Korea, which he himself had learned that morning. Originally, he’d texted you because he had news to share - good news. Or at least, he hoped they were good. He hoped the soft, lingering looks you gave him weren’t a figment of his imagination but rather the confirmation he needed that you liked him back. He hoped that like him, you cared too much about your friendship to make the first move into something else; that by confessing first, you’d be relieved of that responsibility; that his wish to hold your hand and kiss your forehead wasn’t one-sided. 

He decided not to prepare anything - just a couple sentences that he’d rehearsed over and over in his head. Declarations of love, bouquets of flowers, chocolate and couple keychains, all that could wait until after you’d said yes to being his girlfriend. He didn’t want to win you over just once, he wanted to show you every day how much he loved you. Fourteen-year-old Jake was absolutely head over heels for you; so imagine his disappointment when, as he was getting ready to meet with you, his parents called him downstairs, a tone to their voice Jake wasn’t familiar with, but that couldn’t mean anything good. 

“Your dad’s job is sending us back to Seoul next month,” his mom announced, not beating around the bush. He felt everything quite literally crumbling down around him. His friends in Brisbane, his school, his hobbies, but above all, you. He’d lose it all. And what was the point now in telling you how he felt? If you felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if you didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

What he had planned to be good news turned into the most awful ones. The thought of it happening all over again makes twenty-year-old Jake shudder. But he wouldn’t let himself be trapped by time again - sure, in seven months, the academic year would be over, and he would go back to Korea. But that didn’t mean that those seven months should be spent in agony, or the following ones either, for that matter. You would make it work. What was long-distance to someone who loved someone else as much as Jake loved you?

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He has to start by really resolving to do this, and in the off-chance that it actually goes in his favour, he’d start worrying about long distance then.

First, he has a trip to plan.

--

You should’ve known that a trip to the Scottish Highlands in the middle of November was a risky choice in terms of weather. The day started off nicely enough - no sign of rain when you woke up or as you watched the sunrise through the train window. Clouds turned the sky a bright white at first, then increasingly greyer and greyer. You feel the first drops of rain after lunch as you walk around a small village. By four pm, it’s pitch black and storming like you’ve rarely seen before. You head into a pub to grab a drink as you wait for the rain to subside, but subside it does not. You end up ordering fish and chips, one each, although one serving is enough to feed three. Even after taking your time eating, the bad weather does not let up. The last train, which is meant to be at eight pm, has been cancelled. Luckily, there’s an inn right across the road from the pub; you have no choice but to spend the night. 

The inn receptionist is sitting so low on her chair, you can barely see her over the desk until you’re standing right over it. Her face is hidden by a book and it’s only when you say hiya that she seems to realise you’re there. You had never heard of the book or of its author, but you recognized the cover design as that of those romance novels with repetitive plots and weirdly misogynistic love interests your mum and every other middle-aged woman was obsessed with.

Her smile widens as she looks between you and Jake. “Hi there. One room for the lovely couple?”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Yes, please,” Jake interrupts, smiling down at her, then at you. “It’ll be cheaper if we share a room.”

“Our only room with two single beds is already taken, I’m afraid. One double bed okay for you two?”

You feel like you’re about to faint, so you’re glad Jake is there to answer. “Yeah, of course.” How the idea of sharing one bed with you is so okay to him, you’re not sure - granted, you’ve done it before, but this feels different. For all intents and purposes, this is a hotel room you’re staying in. And you’re staying in it with Jake. 

You try to calm your breathing as the receptionist guides you to your room, chatting casually with Jake on the way there. As she unlocks the door for you, she informs you that check-out must be done before eleven in the morning tomorrow, then bids you good night and leaves you to it, still wearing that smile you swear has mischievousness to it. The door clicks shut behind you, and it’s just Jake and you again, together in this small room until tomorrow morning. Your chances of survival are very, very low. 

Your room is a humble one, consisting of a desk, a cupboard, two armchairs, a small, separate bathroom and the infamous bed. Every surface seems to be covered with wood, from the ceiling, to the walls, to the old-fashioned furniture. Only the floor is a soft, beige carpet. Especially with the darkness outside, it makes for a gloomy room until you turn on the lamp by the entrance; it casts a warm, golden light in the room, one that would make you feel at ease if it wasn’t for Jake’s presence next to you. The implications of being essentially trapped in a barely-lit room with him are heavy on your mind, especially when he looks this gorgeous with his hair still damp from the rain and the soft lights playing on his face. 

His voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Right. Do you, um, do you wanna shower first?” he asks, setting his bag on one of the armchairs.

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” There has never been such an awkward tension between the two of you, but you know you’re not doing anything to ease it. You hope a shower will help you get out of your head and make you relax.

You feel the tension leave your muscles under the hot water, but your stomach is still in knots. You’ve never been this nervous around Jake before; back when you were fourteen and again in these past few months, you’d gotten so used to dealing with your unspoken feelings for him that you could almost forget about them when you were with him. They’d come back to you when you were alone and dwelling on the moments you’d spent together, on his words and actions you desperately tried not to read too much into but always ended up doing anyway. But right now, they’ve floated to the surface, becoming as obvious to you as a stain on your skin you can’t rub away. You’re scared Jake will notice it, and, in the worst case scenario you often thought about, would run away and never speak to you again. 

At least the raging storm outside would make that a bit harder.

When you step out of the shower, you curse yourself for not having worn more comfortable clothes on this trip. You definitely can’t wear these jeans and button-up sweater to lounge around. Thankfully, the inn provides two long bathrobes that you could wear over underwear and your tank top, but you wonder where on the scale of inappropriate this would be to wear with Jake in the room. He’s seen you in short pyjama shorts before, but this, like everything else that would usually be normal between the two of you, feels weird today. 

You wrap the bathrobe around yourself, tying it in place around your waist, and decide that it’d only be weird if you made it weird. And if Jake found the sight of your bare legs weird, then he was the weird one.

The scene you’re met with as you walk into the room makes you want to retreat into the bathroom immediately. Jake is lying on the bed with his upper half against the headboard, one leg extended and the other one bent, resting his head against one palm, using his free hand to scroll through his phone. His t-shirt has ridden up slightly, putting the waistband of his Calvin Kleins into view. Worst of all, when he sees you, his face breaks into a grin. 

Your stomach twists when he gives you a once-over, letting his gaze linger on your legs. “Did you bring a bathrobe with you or was it included?” he asks with an annoyingly handsome smirk.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I bring a bathrobe with me wherever I go,” you say sarcastically. “Now shut up and go shower, you stink.” Reverting to insults is always the solution when you’re internally freaking out.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He takes so long in the shower that by the time he comes out, you’ve dozed off in bed. As if you were a child, he wakes you up with a boop to the nose, crouching next to the bed and smiling at you. His wet hair falls on his head like that of a movie star in a shower scene, which you find extremely unfair, and his cheeks are red from the warmth of the water. 

“It’s still early. Do you wanna go grab another drink?”

“In our bathrobes?” you say, laughing. “Nah, I don’t really feel like drinking anyway.” Read: I’m not sure what I’ll do with alcohol in me.

“Okay, no worries. Um, I think I saw they had board games in the lobby?”

Your ears perk up at this. “Ooh, what kind of board games?”

Putting jeans on underneath his bathrobe, Jake slips away for a minute and comes back with Monopoly, Uno, and a deck of cards. “They didn’t have much for two players,” he says, dumping everything on the bed. 

You already knew that anything would become fun if you did it with Jake, but you definitely didn’t expect to spend almost five hours just playing Monopoly and card games with him. Neither of you stays put for very long, always switching from sitting criss-cross to laying on your stomach, making fun of the other’s bathrobe even though you’re wearing the exact same thing. You make each other laugh as you make up your own nonsense rules and disregard the laws of your games, attacking the other ruthlessly for a couple extra points or coins. Jake even makes you go get snacks from a corner store that’s miraculously still open because you lose the first round of Uno. 

After some time, Jake lets out a loud yawn, which in turn makes you yawn too. He checks his phone to find that it’s close to midnight already. “Time for bed?” he asks, and your nervousness that had finally dissipated as you played came rushing back. 

You nod. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The two of you clean up before brushing your teeth. Even that, with Jake by your side, becomes a silly affair as he pulls faces in the mirror and nudges your hip with his. You stay behind to use the toilet, and when you come back out, Jake’s already in bed, bathrobe tossed on one of the armchairs. This means that Jake is just casually in a t-shirt and boxers, waiting for you to join him in bed. Luckily, his back is turned to you, so you quickly take off your own bathrobe and slide under the sheets, careful to keep your distance from him. The sheets are cold underneath you, and you know it’ll take a while before your body heat warms them up - although you feel very hot and bothered because of the man lying next to you. 

“Gosh, I’m really sleepy all of a sudden,” he says, words distorted by a yawn. You only hum in response, and he reaches for the lamp to turn it off. Just like that, you’re in complete darkness, and Jake’s body is mere inches from your own. 

It’s eerily quiet for a while, and when you’ve managed to slow your heartbeat and regularise your breathing, you start trying to fall asleep. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position until Jake’s low, sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, and you freeze.

You sigh. “No. I’m sorry for keeping you up,” you say guiltily.

“It’s okay. I can’t really sleep either. It’s a bit cold in here.”

You pause. “Right. Yeah, it is,” you say, even though you feel like you’re sweating buckets. 

The room plunges into silence again, long enough for you to think Jake has fallen asleep. You feel something cold against your foot, only realising as it slides up your calf that it’s his foot. “Jake!” you whisper-yell, withdrawing your leg as he bursts into giggles that warm your heart. “Your feet are so cold,” you say in-between chuckles.

“I’m cold all over,” he whines. “Have they not turned the heating on yet? It’s already mid-November.”

“People are used to the cold here.”

“Well I’m not. Can we cuddle?” he suddenly asks, and he must somehow feel the way you freeze in place because he stammers out a justification straight away. “For, I mean, just for warmth, you know. I don’t think I’ll sleep otherwise.”

His foot finds yours again and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, fine,” you say with a sigh as if you were doing only half-heartedly for his sake. As if this was some big sacrifice you were making, and not something you’d daydreamed about one too many times before. 

Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second when you scooch closer to Jake, his hands finding your waist as easily as if they’d been there a hundred times before. He pulls you in much closer than you had expected, holding you tightly against his chest, one arm for you to use as a pillow and one hand resting on your lower back. You try to calm your respiration so that he can’t hear how short of breath you are, but based on his own breathing, he seems to be out in five minutes. It takes you longer to fall asleep, every shift of his body sending shivers down your spine, but you manage to relax after some time, letting his warmth envelop you as you drift off to sleep.

--

The feeling of waking up with you in his arms is so unreal, Jake thinks he might still be dreaming.

He looks down at your peaceful sleeping face and can’t stop the smile that spreads on his lips. Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but this is a sight he particularly wants to commit to memory. He watches fondly as the bright sun rays of the early morning hit your face, making you scrunch your eyebrows and bury your face deeper against him. You grunt softly, and when he feels you shifting and stretching your legs, he pretends to fall asleep so you don’t catch him staring. It seems like you’ve raised your head, chin tilted towards him - if he’s lucky, you’re watching him “sleep” just like he did seconds ago.

He contains a smile at the joke that forms itself in his brain before shooting his eyes open, catching you off guard during what you thought was a private, secret moment. 

“Shit!” you yelp, practically jumping off of him and rolling onto the other side of the bed. He bursts into laughter, proud that his little prank was effective. Before you can scold him, he makes his way to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing your back against his chest. He thinks he feels your body tense; but then you bring your hand over his, swiping your thumb back and forth against his skin, and you relax in his hold. “You’re so annoying,” you complain, but your voice is tender, almost weak.

He buries his face in your hair, trying not to be too loud when he inhales there. “Sorry,” he says, the smile evident in his voice. “The opportunity was right there. Caught you staring, huh?”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Jake is more than happy to enjoy this moment in silence, but there’s something burning the tip of his tongue. It’s been there for a while now, but he thinks he’s finally found the right moment. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“There’s something I couldn’t tell you last night, but I feel oddly okay saying it right now. Are you listening?” 

“I am, yeah,” you say gently, voice so soft it caresses his skin and draws goosebumps from it.

His chest expands and falls with a deep, shaky breath. With your back right against it, he’s scared you’ll hear that his heart is beating faster than it should. “Bad news first?” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Uh-oh.”

“There’s no roundabout way to say this, so here goes, I guess.” He takes another breath. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” You tense in his embrace, and he waits for you to say something, anything before he continues.

“Oh,” is all you say. He hopes it’s a good oh - even if it isn’t, he doesn’t let it deter him.

“Yeah. I really debated telling you this… I know you might not feel the same way. But I also know that if I don’t say anything and make the same mistake twice, I’ll beat myself up over it for the rest of my life.”

“The same mistake?” you ask, looking at him over your shoulder.

He gazes down at you tenderly, pushing hair away from your face with a gentle hand. “I already felt that way back when we lived in Australia. I was about to tell you but when I learned that I was moving, I didn’t wanna risk ruining the little time we had left together.”

The look on your face both breaks his heart and patches it up again. “Jakey…” you say, voice just a whisper. You turn around to face him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The fact that you’re not saying much is making his stomach twist in agonising stress, but he takes it as a good sign that you’re still holding him tight and not running away.

“I think I’d be the luckiest guy on Earth if you felt the same way,” he says, hopefulness clear in his voice. 

And then he finally hears the words he’s been dying to hear all these years. “Of course, I feel the same way, Jake,” you say, eyes meeting his. “This isn’t bad news at all, it’s like, the best possible news ever.”

It takes him a few seconds, but when your words sink in, a bright smile graces his features. He feels tears coming up - tears of relief that you feel the same way, of sadness that it took the both of you so long to get here, of happiness that something new might start - he’s not sure. Perhaps everything at once.

“Of course?” he echoes, smiling wildly. “It wasn’t obvious to me.”

“Oh, gosh,” you murmur, burying yourself into him once more. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

He tightened his hold around you, bringing you to him as close as physically possible. “Me neither.”

The feeling of you tangling your bare legs with his and bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt in your fist awakens something in him - he had been in his head, thanking the heavens that you loved him back, reeling from his belated confession, but he was now very aware of his body. And of yours. He was reminded of Jay telling him to kiss you - although he hadn’t needed to go there to reveal his feelings to you, it was still a possibility. It was even more so now that he knew you felt the same way. 

He tries to be subtle as he brushes a hand up your back to the nape of your neck, gently grazing his fingernails against the skin there. He has to suppress a self-satisfied smirk when he feels you squirm under his touch, lifting your head to fix him with a scolding look. Your stern expression fades as soon as his eyes fall on your lips, however, and you quickly mirror his gaze. His lips part, and he feels his whole body shake as he takes a deep breath in. Who knew that you’d share your first kiss on a random Sunday morning in the fuckass middle of nowhere in Scotland?

Maybe you take pity on him, or you recognise the effort put into being the one to make the first move, or, as he’d like to think, you just really want to kiss him - either way, you’re the one who closes the gap and presses your lips to his.

Your lips. So soft, so delicate against his, absolutely perfect. It’s a simple, tentative touch, but he’s craved it for so long that it makes his head spin. He frowns, despite himself instantly needing more than this feather-like feeling of your lips brushing against each other. His mind tells him to calm down and take it slow, but his body takes over, urging him to grab the nape of your neck a little harder, to hold you a little closer to him, to kiss you a little stronger. Thankfully, you let him do all of this and more, hands finding purchase in his hair and returning his intensity tenfold. 

He doesn’t know what’s better - the fact that you’re kissing him or the kiss itself. The way your lips move against his is intoxicating; it wraps itself around its mind and leaves no room for thoughts that aren’t of you. You seem to want him as desperately as he wants you, to have waited for him as long as he did for you, and this is what drives him crazy. You press your body against his and he sees stars; you let out a moan against his lips and he kisses you deeper, ready to do anything to hear that melody again. 

Unfortunately, the only melody he gets to hear is that of his phone alarm, informing you that it’s quarter to eleven and that you have fifteen minutes to leave. Check-out at eleven am had sounded nice yesterday; now, he would stay in this dingy inn his whole life if it meant he got to keep kissing you. 

The both of you reluctantly break apart, bursting into giddy laughter when your eyes meet. As said before, Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but with your pupils blown and your lips plump from kissing, this might just be the prettiest he’s ever seen you. 

“You know, I like you a lot, but I’d like you even more if you could stop time,” you say.

He looks down at you with a smile, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen on your face. “Sure, I’ll learn how to control time for you.”

“Thanks, Jakey.” You peck his lips, lingering, and he closes his eyes to savour your sweetness. 

“Anything for you, baby.” His eyes widen at the nickname slip, but you erupt into giggles.

“Baby?”

“Would you look at the time, we really got to go,” he says, detangling his limbs from yours. He pauses for a second. “Baby,” he repeats, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before bouncing from the bed.

You get ready together, and the mundane tasks of stripping sheets from a bed and packing bags become the funnest things he’s ever done. You’re all over each other, attacking the other with kisses and hugs; Jake doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite this happy. 

And this is only the beginning.

--

There’s a glint in the receptionist’s eyes when you check out of your room, as if she knew something you and Jake had been oblivious to all along. It’s the only one in town, so you go back to the little pub for a full breakfast with eggs, hash browns, haggis, and sausages. You get coffee so strong you think you might not sleep for the next four days, while Jake drinks tea that is equal parts sugar, milk, and actual tea.

From the moment you leave the pub to the moment you arrive at your doorstep, Jake’s hands barely leave yours. When they have to, like when you’re searching for the perfect seat on the train or when the controller checks your tickets, they’re back together within a minute, like two magnets that can’t stay apart for too long. The rain has long subsided, leaving place to a bright blue sky and wet blades of grass that shine in the sun. 

Now that your mutual feelings don’t need to be kept secret, you tell each other about everything you had to go through, like you pretending your good news was your mum having baked the cookies Jake liked and him seeing your new boyfriends every two months on your close friends story. He tells you about all the hints he’s dropped, causing you to facepalm over and over again. It feels like two friends catching each other to speed on all the latest gossip, except the topic of that gossip is you.

The juxtaposition of your familiarity with Jake with the novelty of behaving like a couple, of not having to hold back with your touches or gazes or words, is nothing if not jarring. But you have a feeling you’ll get used to it in no time. 

As you unlock the front door to your building, you don’t ask him if he’s coming up - to you, it’s a given that you’ll be spending the rest of today and every day after that together. So when he doesn’t follow you, staying still on the threshold, you turn around with a questioning look on your face. 

“There’s something I need to do this afternoon,” he says, taking both of your hands in his.

“Can’t I come with?” you say. Jake wavers for a second, but sadly, he stays firm in his decision.

“Sorry, baby, it’s a surprise. I’ll be back at seven with takeout?”

You can’t possibly be mad at him when he calls you baby and offers food in the same breath. “Only if you bring takeout.”

“You only love me because I feed you, don’t you?” he asks, a smile on his face.

“Yup,” you reply. You’re standing on a step, so you bend down to kiss him - you intend for it to be a peck, but when your lips touch, you’re unable to pull away. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, in the warmth that takes over your body and makes your brain all fuzzy. 

A loud, affronted gasp from behind you makes you jump from Jake, and when you turn around, Chaewon and Yunjin are standing in the stairwell, staring at you with wide eyes and gaping mouths. 

“So this was a sexcapade?” is, much to your horror, the first thing Yunjin says.

Thanks to Chaewon, neither you nor Jake have the time to dwell on this sentence as she comes running down the stairs and pounces on you. You don’t know how a woman so small can have such force, but her hug is so tight you can barely breathe, let alone hug her back properly. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaims. When she pulls away, she seems so moved, it looks like she’s about to cry. “You finally popped your Jake cherry,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for Jake to hear. A bark of laughter escapes his throat.

“Okay, thanks, guys,” you say, escaping this awkward situation and going up the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Jake!” you yell over your shoulder. The girls seem to be on their way out, and you’re more than happy leaving him to deal with them on his own. God knows you’ll get the worst of it when they come back. 

As soon as you get to your flat, you make a beeline for your bedroom, plopping on the bed. You’re the same person, and this is the same room. But something within you feels entirely different, like a scar that you had been carrying around had, without you even noticing, healed so well you could barely see it anymore. You lifted your hands in the air, looked at the back of them, then at your palms. They were the same old hands that had been with you your whole life, and you were almost shocked that there wasn’t something utterly different about them after having held Jake’s hand for so long. Just to be sure, you sniffed your right hand, but it didn’t smell any different, either. But you still felt Jake’s hand on yours, like headphones you’d been wearing for hours and still felt on your ears after taking them off.

Yunjin and Chaewon are back from their shopping half-an-hour later; they got you a chocolate fudge cake from Tesco to congratulate you. “You guys are acting like this is my birthday…” you say, eyeing the cake greedily as Chaewon cuts it into three equal parts (even though it says serves eight on the packaging). 

“This is more important than your birthday, Y/N,” Yunjin states as she pours oat milk into three cups of Earl Grey tea. “This is, like, the moment of a lifetime.”

“Are you saying a girl’s importance depends on her having a boyfriend?”

“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Especially when said boyfriend is the guy she’s been pining after for all of her teenage and adult life.”

You sigh. “Well, he hasn’t exactly popped the boyfriend and girlfriend question yet.” They both turn to look at you, an annoyed look on their faces. You stand up straight, uncomfortable under their gazes. “What?”

“Usually, I’m all for clarity on this issue,” Chaewon starts. “But isn’t it pretty obvious here?”

“You’re still gonna have to tell us everything in minute detail, but Jake’s already told us what happened. He had no qualms referring to you as his girlfriend, so I really don’t think this is something you need to worry about. What you should worry about is when and where you’re going to hop on that dick.”

Chaewon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit. “Gosh, Yunjin, you really do have a way with words.”

“I know. This is what having a Jane Austen hyperfixation at fifteen will do to you.”

Following Yunjin’s orders, you tell them about the events of the previous day and this morning over tea and cake. They ooh and ah and gasp in all the right places, ask you very specific questions and even make you draw a picture of the room you stayed in. You’ve talked to them about Jake so many times that there’s only so much to say now - but still, you talk for hours on end, deviating off-topic so often you end up talking about something else entirely. 

You’re in bed reading for your Middle English Literature class when the doorbell rings. It’s seven on the dot, so it can be no one else other than Jake. It’s been mere hours, but you’ve missed him enough to last you for weeks. 

He brought takeaway from the Indian place you’d raved about a hundred times but hadn’t brought him to yet. Somehow, your heart grows even fonder as you watch his reaction to the food, the raise of his eyebrows, the widening of his eyes, the excited shimmy of his shoulders. When you ask him about his afternoon, a wide smile breaks out onto his face, like a lightbulb illuminating a room. Without a word, he scurries to your room, bringing back some sort of book with him. He hands it to you  with a shy smile and curious eyes, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The cover reads Y/N and Jake in his clumsy but endearing handwriting, with the date of his arrival in Edinburgh and an em-dash scribbled underneath. “I haven’t booked my flight home yet, so I’ll add the second date later,” he explains. 

When you flick through it, you’re met with photographs of you and Jake on all of the trips you’ve done so far, as well as the various adventures you got up to in the city. There’s even one of you sleeping in the library at two am during midterms when you had forgotten about one of your essays, due at midday. Jake had come with coffee and words of encouragement, and now he could brag that the high mark you got was thanks to him. It’s not only photos - it’s also ticket stubs, receipts, stickers, and even a dried flower you had found pretty on your trip to St. Andrews. He’s also written quite a lot, from diary-like entries about what you got up to that day or songs that reminded him of you. 

“You misspelt right here,” you say, pointing to a sentence that reads This is the café write next to the hotel where the last Harry Potter book is said to have been written!!! under a photo of you drinking a massive cup of hot chocolate. The more you look at the typo, the more it makes you laugh, until you have tears brimming in your eyes.

Thanks to Yunjin’s messiness, pens and pencils are strewn over your coffee table. Jake, flushed red in embarrassment at the small mistake, snatches a pencil and aggressively erases write, spelling it correctly the second time around. “This is the level of today’s English Lit undergrads,” he murmurs under his breath. His frown disappears when he looks at you and he laughs along.

You continue looking through the album until you land on a page titled Why I love Y/N. From top to bottom, left to right, it’s filled with Jake’s tiny handwriting. You can tell he put effort into making it neat. There’s a singular photograph of you, one that dates from the first days after Jake’s arrival when you were walking around in the Meadows, the park right next to campus. The sun shone down on you and you smiled brightly at Jake behind the camera.  

You’re not a quarter through reading when tears swell in your eyes, rendering your vision blurry. You wipe them away before they can fall and stain the page. Jake has detailed every last thing he loves about you. It can hardly get cornier than this, but the fact that he wrote this about you makes your heart so full, you’re afraid it might explode in your chest. It ranges from basic things like the way she makes me laugh or her pretty face when she falls asleep in the train (or anywhere, for that matter) to more you-specific things like the strict pastel colour-coding she uses for her notes and her perseverance when eating spicy food even though she can’t take it. He mentions things about you that you didn’t even know, and that feeling of being known in-and-out, of being really seen by someone else only brings more tears to your eyes. Your favourite line comes at the end - the way she makes any place feel like home. A proper sob pushes past your lips at this, and Jake, who had been watching you with an anxious smile, rests a palm on your knee and inches closer to you.

“Why are you crying, is- Did I write something bad?”

You shake your head fervently. “No, no, Jakey, this is… It’s perfect. I’m just…” you trail, letting out a half-sob, half-chuckle. You look at him with a smile before pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”

You can feel Jake relax against you. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad you like it.”

You pull away after a small while, and turn the next page over. It’s a picture of you over breakfast this morning, with words WE’RE DATING!!!! written underneath it, and those simple words make you so happy, your cheeks ache from smiling. But every page after that is empty. Jake scratches the back of his neck. “I, um, I thought we could fill the rest out together. I debated just doing it myself and giving it to you at the end of the year, but I thought it’d be more fun doing it together.”

“It would. This is such an amazing idea,” you say, flicking back through the pages.

“I thought of it because of that project I had. When I started working on it, all the photos I wanted to include were of you, but I wasn’t sure how much my professor would appreciate that… So I decided to make one more personal. One for us,” he says shyly, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“Thank you so much, Jakey.”

He smiles. “It’s no worries.”

“Did you do it all this afternoon?”

“I had started it before, but I added it most of today, yeah. Which, by the way, awful timing. I wanted nothing more than to spend today with you.”

Your heart leaps. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to hearing such words from Jake’s mouth.

Sometime later, you’re laying in bed with Jake between your legs, watching the most recent animated Spiderman movie. With the tips of your fingers, you draw random patterns on his forearm, and if it wasn’t for his occasional chuckles, you’d think he had fallen asleep. You chat for a bit after the movie, but you find that after such an emotionally-packed day, you’re ready to call it a night fairly early. But when the lights are off and it’s just you lying against Jake’s chest, his fingernails grazing your scalp and his familiar, comforting scent clouding your judgement, all thoughts of an early night are thrown out of the window.

You shouldn’t feel so nervous - you had fallen asleep in his arms last night, and it had gone well. Really well. 

“This is different from yesterday, isn’t it?” Jake suddenly says, breaking the heavy silence with a low voice. It’s like he read your mind.

“Yeah,” you whisper against his skin.

No other words are needed. You brush the tip of your nose along his neck until you reach his jawline, pressing soft kisses there and delighting in the increasing shakiness of his breath. The feeling of your lips meeting is so intense, so all-encompassing, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle anything more.

This is still new territory, but you’re both so eager to discover it that it makes for a messy kiss, lips moving against each other ravenously, tongues beckoning moans from the other. It’s a kiss that somehow leaves you breathless and breathes oxygen back into your lungs at once. 

In a matter of seconds, Jake has flipped you on your back and is hovering over you, one hand holding him up and one hand free to roam your body. He slips it underneath your t-shirt, brushes it along the side of your waist, his touch leaving behind a trail of fire blazing on your skin. It’s so distracting, you can’t even kiss him back properly anymore. Jake doesn’t seem to mind. At first, when he starts pressing hot kisses to your jawline and your neck, you think he’s giving you a respite - but when he gently sinks his teeth into the skin there, leaving marks that will later remind you tonight wasn’t a dream, chuckling as you squirm and whine under him, you understand that this is anything but a respite. 

You curse your earlier decision of not wearing a bra, because it gives you no preparation whatsoever to the sensation of Jake brushing his thumb against one of your nipples. With a loud gasp, your back arches off of the bed, which only aids Jake in raising your t-shirt up over your breasts. 

He takes a minute to admire the sight of you panting and half-naked underneath him. It makes you feel shy, and you want to do something so that he stops looking and starts doing, but his gaze holds you in place. His pupils are blown with lust, eyes raking over your body and taking everything in. You have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that it’s you he’s looking at with those eyes. 

His soft lips attach themselves to your nipple while his fingers continue their work on the other one. You’ve never felt this sensitive, never felt this on edge, like you might fall apart at any second even with so little simulation. Your core throbs, impatiently waiting to be tended to, but you’re already trembling so hard from Jake’s attention to your breasts that you don’t know what will happen to you once he actually touches you down there.

“You doing okay, baby?” he asks, the rasp in his voice making you want him impossibly more. You grip his hair and he looks up at you, a tender smile on his lips. You nod your head yes and he laughs. “Yeah? You want more?” You pause at his question. You do want more, but is it worth your sanity?

It takes you a second to decide that it’s worth that and more. You nod again. 

Jake seems to have sensed your hesitation. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I am. It’s just a lot.”

His expression of worry softens into a smile. “I’ll take it slow for you, love. It’s a lot for me, too.” He leans in to press soft kisses to your cheek, and some of the tension in your body diffuses. Whatever happens, Jake will be there to take care of you. “But it feels good, right?” he asks, lips moving against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“So good, Jakey,” you reply shakily.

“Good.”

You can tell that Jake really does want to take it slow - his movements are more deliberate, gentler. But eagerness, both yours and his, soon takes over, and a minute later, he’s trailing kisses down your body until he reaches your lower stomach. Your breath quickens as he hooks fingers underneath your leggings and underwear, sliding both garments down your legs and leaving you bare to him. You think the feeling of his lips on the fleshy parts of your inner thighs is what might actually do you in, make you lose your sense of reality forever - but then his tongue darts out against your clit, a barely-there touch, and your whole body flatlines. 

Your reaction eggs Jake on, who, more confident now, takes the sensitive bud in his lips and alternates between sucking and licking motions. A knot ties itself embarrassingly quickly in your stomach, a knot that tightens and tightens as Jake flattens his tongue against you, licking up your juices from your entrance to your clit; a knot that threatens to come loose when he slides a long finger inside of you. You can’t take more than thirty seconds of this.

“Jakey,” you say, voice practically a moan. Your brain is fuzzy and it takes a distressing amount of time to form a simple sentence. “Can you come here?”

“Is something wrong, baby?” he asks breathily, sliding his finger out of you and coming back up so that his face is right above yours. 

“No, just… I want you.”

Any trace of worry on Jake’s features dissipates as he cocks an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Is that so?”

This kind of boldness would usually have you rolling your eyes, but here, it only makes your core throb more violently. It’s almost humiliating how much you want this man. It’s definitely humiliating, how easy it is to swallow your pride and play into his game. “Yes, please,” you say, eyes pleading with him.

He smiles almost giddily before burying his face against the side of yours. “My baby’s so polite,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Take this off, then,” you say, grabbing the bottom hem of his t-shirt. 

“So she says please and gives orders,” he jokes, quickly obliging anyway. 

Not once in your time apart had Jake posted any sort of beach trip or pool photos, so this was the first time you saw his bare chest. God, was it one for the history books. You trace the defined lines of his muscles with a finger and wonder how he had managed to get even more perfect. He lets you marvel at him for it, clearly proud that you’re gawking so shamelessly, but your mind drifts back to more urgent matters when he presses himself into you, his clothed cock, hard and hot, brushing against your folds. “Fuck,” you sigh, bucking your hips into his to feel him over and over again.

It’s so much, but it’s not enough; Jake instantly gets your message when you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling him to you and kissing him feverishly. Your lips don’t part as he slides his boxers off, and you drink up the nectar that are his moans as you take him in your hand, pumping him a few times.

“Condom?” he asks, but you shake your head.

“I’m on the pill. And even so… I usually always use a condom, but I don’t want to now. Not with you.”

Jake closes his eyes as he takes a deep, stabilising breath. “I feel totally normal about that. Not crazy at all.”

You giggle, and he opens his eyes, a wide smile gracing his lips before he bends down to kiss you. “You ready for the night of your life?” he asks against your lips. “It’s gonna last five minutes, tops,” he says, making you laugh again. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t do anything about it. I think I could’ve cum just from eating you out.”

“That would’ve been hot.”

“Really? We’ll make it a challenge for next time, then.”

When Jake plunges into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He fills you up, slow inch by slow inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. You both need some time getting used to the feeling - Jake drops his head in the crook of your neck and lets out a sound between a grunt and a moan, something you’ve never heard from him before. You grab onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as you try to tether yourself to him. You hold him so tight that he has no choice but to let his body rest on top of yours, his arms coming to circle your waist and bring you even closer. 

His movements start out halting, the pleasure so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to move steadily. In time, he falls into a torturously slow rhythm, but it’s the perfect kind of torture, the kind that has tears brimming in your eyes. It’s so hard to take, and yet you want more. You’re brought closer to the edge with every thrust of his dick into you, especially as he picks up the pace and lifts your hips to meet his. The new angle has his tip brushing against that spot deep inside you that makes it hard to breathe. 

You can tell he’s just as close as you when he loses that steady rhythm he had found, his motions growing more desperate, harsher, quicker. Conscious of your roommates, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as your orgasm washes over you, your whole body on fire, so sensitive that the few more seconds Jake needs to come undone himself drive both your body and your mind into overstimulation. Even the feeling of him pulling out, drops of hot liquid dripping out of your entrance, is too much and makes you let out a small, tired whine. 

Jake peppers your face with kisses as he holds your waist tightly, brushing his thumb back-and-forth on your warm skin, sticky with sweat. “You did so well, baby. So good for me.” You think you might be ready for a second round if he keeps talking to you like that. “I love you so much.”

You sigh deeply, as if you were just told disconcerting news. “Okay.”

“Okay?!” he echoes, looking up at you with an outraged expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I love you too, I just- I’m not used to this yet! You can’t just tell me you love and expect me to be normal. You have to warn me first.”

“Can I just warn you now that I’m going to tell you I love you every time I get the chance?”

You sigh. “I guess.” 

“Can I tell you now?” he asks, and you hum. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake tuts. “I highly doubt it, but whatever makes you happy.”

You hold Jake close to you, one arm around his shoulders and the other hand playing with his hair as you come down from your high. You think he might’ve fallen asleep, and you’re close to drifting off yourself when he speaks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Not just the sex, although that has been on my mind for a while now,” he says, making you laugh, “but all of this. Being together, getting to be in your arms like this, kissing you whenever I want. Calling you my girlfriend.”

“Me too, Jakey. I waited so long I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Jake chuckles. “How stupid were we not to have noticed we felt the same way?”

“Very stupid. I think we felt so sorry for ourselves that we were stuck in one-sided love, that we didn’t even realise the other was going through the exact same thing. But at least we’re now.”

“At least we’re here now.” You and Jake yawn at the exact same time, making you burst into giggles, giddy with sleep and love.

“Let’s sleep, baby,” you say.

Jake hums, burying himself deeper against your body. “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be here.”

--

After years of pining after each other, you and Jake find it a bit hard to keep your relationship to yourselves, or your hands off of each other.

At the beginning, all of your friends had been happy for you, but that quickly went away when your and Jake’s honeymoon phase never died down and the PDA just kept on going. If the glue you were stuck with previously was metaphorical, this one was pretty close to being real. Superglue kept you together, your moments together rarely spent without some sort of physical touch. Yunjin fake-gagged so often, you were afraid she might actually vomit one of these days. It took Sunghoon two weeks longer than everyone else to clock you and Jake had started dating.

This meant that in private, there was truly no holding back. Jake back-hugged you any chance he got, to the point you started to think he was more koala than human - although that’d imply he saw you as a tree. Make-out sessions were a particular favourite of yours - how could they not be when your boyfriend’s lips seemed to have been carved by God himself, soft and plump to the heavens, like they were made to be kissed. Really, you were just honouring God’s will when you kissed Jake.  

The goodbye that comes at the end of the year is not an easy one, and the month spent at home before you fly to Korea seems to never end. But you get there eventually, and as nice as it is to catch up with Jake’s parents after so long, you feign sleepiness after lunch as an excuse to get some time alone with your boyfriend. Ironically, this “time alone” is spent so intensely that you do end up falling asleep afterwards. 

You have to admit, you really did a number on your boyfriend this time - what can a girl do when she missed her boyfriend this much? Jake is still passed out when you wake up from your nap, so you slip out as discreetly as you can from his embrace and get out of bed. You head for the closet first and swipe the comfiest looking sweater of his that you find there so you can stay warm as you look around his room. A pang of melancholia hits your chest - most of the pictures and objects on his walls and shelves are parts of his life you weren’t around to witness. Friends you don’t recognize, places you’ve never heard of, phases you’d never known he’d gone through. But then you see the frame on his desk, a faded photo of the two of you at ten years of age, eating ice cream on the bench outside of your house. Milo is sitting at your feet. Jake’s family hadn’t adopted Layla yet. You realise that even if there’s whole parts of your life you didn’t get to share with each other, nothing could touch your memories, or your future.

You want to go back in time and tell fourteen-year-old you that no matter how painful it might seem at the moment, it will all be worth it for the sight of Jake Sim slowly drifting into wakefulness, patting the bed next to him, and noticing you’re missing with furrowed eyebrows. When he opens his eyes and they settle on you, a sleepy smile will grace his dazzling features, and he’ll say, “Come back to bed.”

You’ll be even more in love at twenty than at fourteen.

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[medusapelagia]

Love at first sight

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 6: HEARD IT IN A LOVE SONG) and @steddie-week (Day 6, Prompt: Dizzy / drunken confessions) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 997

The music pumps in his ears and Steve might have drunk a little bit too much. Not enough to run to the bathroom but enough that he feels dizzy and happy for no reason, so he slams his glass on the bar counter and moves toward the dance floor.

The people are dancing around him like a human tide and all he wants is to go adrift. Someone grinds against his ass but he doesn’t even turn. Steve needs this, a little bit of human contact, the feeling that he’s wanted even if his parents just sent him their last check with a letter saying that from now on he’s on his own.

He should have told Robin, but she was on a date with the pretty barista she had a crush on since forever so he just crumpled the letter and threw it in his drawer, took his keys, and got to his favorite gay bar and started to drink the last money his parents gave him. No better way to spend it after all.

Someone bumps into him too hard and Steve loses his equilibrium. Trying not to fall on the ground he grabs the first thing he can, which apparently it’s a leather jacket.

Fuck.

Leather jackets mean bikers or metal heads, usually closeted ones that will get really angry.

“I’m sorry…” he slurs, “I tripped and…” Steve starts to apologize, but the man that’s looking at him is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. Long curly dark hair, deep dark eyes, and a mischievous smile painted on his face.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He tells him, holding Steve up, “Too many drinks, huh? It happens to the best of us.”

The man chuckles, making sure Steve is stable enough on his feet before turning toward his group of friends, but Steve’s hand is still holding tight on his leather jacket.

“If you could let go of me we could go back to our friends, sweetness,” the man smiles, prying Steve’s hand open.

“No.”

“No? Don’t you want to have fun with your friends?”

“No friends.” Steve tries to explain, and the man frowns.

“You here alone?”

Steve nods, but the sudden movement makes him feel dizzy again. Luckily the other man grabs his arm and stabilizes him once more.

“Sorry… my head is spinning.” Steve apologized, hiding his face behind his free hand.

“Why don’t we sit for a moment, huh?”

“Eddie, come on! This round is on you!” Someone yells next to them, and Steve notices at that moment that he’s not in the middle of the dance floor anymore, but close to the bar counter.

The man grabs his wallet from his back pocket, one hand still holding Steve’s arm tight, “Need to get back to the table. Take what you need.”

“But how can I bring all the beers back?”

“I’ll ask Jeff to help you, don’t whine!”

Steve looks at the dark-haired man and asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah. That’s me. What’s your name, sugar?”

“Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Why don’t you sit with me and my friends for a moment?” he proposes, dragging him toward the bar's private area, “We’re celebrating. We just signed our first contract with a musica label.” Eddie winks, “What about you? Something to celebrate?”

“My parents officially disowned me. And I’m drinking the last money they sent me.”

Eddie hums with a sad smile, “I know a thing or two about shitty parents. But maybe getting drunk in a bar alone isn’t the best choice to deal with things like that. People could take advantage of your state.”

“Are you going to take advantage of me?” Steve asks innocently, “I would let you if you wanted to.”

Eddie snorts, “Thank you for the offer but I’m the kind of guy who prefers full consent to drunk consent. Hey guys! This is Steve! He’s having a bit of a hard day so he’s staying with us until he feels a little bit better and we can send him home safely.”

“Hi Steve, I’m Jeff. Would you like a glass of water?”

“That’s a great idea. Why don’t you get one for him while helping Gareth with the beers? I gave him my wallet.”

“You gave your wallet to Gar?” another man asks, ginning, “He’s going to spend all your money. I bet twenty dollars he will come back with the most expensive bottle he can find.”

“Not my problem, Freak. You know I don’t really care about money.” Eddie shrugs, sitting next to the tall boy who keeps grinning.

“So you found another stray, Eddie?” Freak asks, scooting over to let them sit.

“I can't tell one from another. Did I find you or you find me?” Eddie replies, turning toward Steve who stares at him in confusion, “It’s a line I heard in a love song, always wanted to use it, never got the occasion. Till now.”

“Maybe wait for him to be sober before hitting on him, huh? Don’t worry. Eddie is dramatic like that, but he’s a good guy.”

“I think I love him,” Steve whispers to Freak way too loudly, and the big man chuckles.

“Look at you, Eddie! You just signed your first contract and already found yourself a groupie!”

Eddie reaches out for the glass of water that Jeff is holding and gives it to Steve, “Drink it all like a good boy.”

“I do.” Steve insists, taking Eddie’s hand and putting it over his chest, “Can’t you feel my love for you? It’s like you said. We were meant to find each other.” 

If Steve wasn’t drunk he would feel ashamed of himself, but what he said it’s true. He never believed in love at first sight, but now he would swear by it.

“Ok. Ok. Now drink your water and if tomorrow morning you’ll feel still in love with me,” Eddie says, fishing a chewed pen and writing a number on a napkin “call me.” 

Now with a second part

[villain-crown]

dust | @jegulus-microfic | words: 864

critical care, part 8 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 9)

a Jegulus nurse!AU

James Potter was a catch. 

A brilliant, handsome, charming catch. He was confident boarderlining on arrogant, suave verging on dazzling, one of the smartest nurses in Gryffindor, and god help him, he was not going to fuck up the pass he was attempting to make at Regulus Black.

The very same man who had just texted him his clean STD panel after telling him in no uncertain circumstances that they would be fucking soon and enthusiastically.

[Of course, I expect you to provide the same results.]

Hell, James would take whatever test Regulus asked of him. He’d take the entire nurse licensing exam all over again if he wanted it. And blood results? James would stick himself with a rusty nail if it meant satisfying Regulus’s requirements. 

Play it cool, Potter. Play it cool. 

Not desperate, no; just cool, suave, James Potter. 

He had this. 

[For sure! You’re very organized lol!]

The answer: [I prefer no condoms.]

Holy shit, he did not have this.

“...you think Dorcas would go for that?” 

Sirius was still carrying on their conversation and did not seem to realize that James was about to pass out right in front of him.

“Sure, Pads,” he all but wheezed, fighting to keep a straight face. “Dorcas. Good idea.”

“Really, James, are you okay? You look… weird.”

He waved him off, clearing his throat. “No, no, I’m just… dust! There’s lots of dust floating around.” He coughed pointedly once more. “Keep talking, I’m listening.”

[Does that bother you?] Regulus asked while James was in the middle of saving his number. 

Oh, James was bothered alright. 

After some deliberation, he decided he needed some kind of code name for the Slytherin to be saved under. It would be nothing short of incriminating for someone to see Regulus Black texting him suggestive shit, but he needed something slightly less obvious than Sirius’s Hot Little Brother. He thought back to the little silver chain twined around Regulus’s gorgeous neck. Three letters hug off it: RAB. 

Perfect. 

…This was completely crazy. He was having a straight-faced conversation about possibly the most earth shattering, borderline-pornographic sex he would ever have in his life with Regulus Black and Sirius wanted to stand there and talk pranks.

[You’re so fucking hot. I am fighting for my life here.]

[You could stand to suffer more. So tell me what you’re into.]

Oof, what a loaded question. Well, apparently he was into best friend’s little brothers who enjoyed dirty sex, which was an interest he could do without. 

Good sense made him pause. 

Was he ready to hand over very personal, potentially humiliating information to a coworker he’d just met yesterday? The memory of Regulus’s gorgeous, lithe body standing on his toes as he leaned into James’s space to whisper the things I like might be a bit much for you was the deciding factor. 

Jame Potter would honestly hand Regulus Black a fucking loaded gun if this conversation would just continue. 

But what could he say in response to a question like that? He didn’t want to come off as too much, but Regulus didn’t strike him as the kind of guy that would be satisfied with too little, either. 

Fuck, what to do.

Apparently, Regulus has some ideas.

“Am I not entertaining you here, Prongs?” Sirius snapped loudly, forcing James to look up from reading the incredibly dirty texts that Regulus was starting to send. His best friend was glaring at him.

Suddenly, Sirius lunged for his phone. 

And James, who hadn’t expected it, found that he was too slow to keep custody of it.

“SIRIUS, FUCK OFF!”

“No! I want to know what’s so fascinating on here that you can’t be bothered to listen to me for the last ten minutes!”

He tussled with Sirius to steal it back, but with no luck. At a certain point in the scuffle, James became uncomfortably aware that the family of the patient in bed eighteen was blatantly staring at them. Embarrassed, James backed off, straightening his burgundy scrubs and trying to look professional. Sirius, who could care less what other people thought, didn’t even bother looking up, instead taking his time examining James’s text messages. 

He held his breath, desperately trying to come up with a solid defense for why Sirius’s precious baby brother might be texting him some of the dirtiest shit James had ever been sent. You know, just in case Sirius Realized. 

I was framed.

It was an accident.

He looks like my future husband. 

Weak. Weak defenses, all of them. 

Get it together, Potter! 

“No condom, huh? Wow, what a whore,” Sirius declared with the admiration of one who had shared that title. He glanced through the texts and negative STD results, making James nearly ascend. “I respect him. This guy knows what he’s about! Rab, huh? Who’s this again?”

“I didn’t say.”

Bloody hell, Sirius was going to kill him—kill him twice: once for having a single sexual thought about his little brother and again for letting Sirius say that about Regulus, who, according to Marlene, he believed was an innocent baby angel who could do no wrong. 

“It’s just some guy,” James finished faintly.

“Huh.” Sirius handed the phone back. “Hot. You should fuck him.”

…Well, if you insist.

[etherealsworldvision]

What’s Your Current Energy and The Energy You’ll Come Into?

[ With a Bonus Mini Letter from Your Inner Self ]

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about: Monterey Bay Aquarium. They’re a non-profit organization that aims to inspire conservation of the ocean. If you’re interested do check them out and if you’d like to further support them click donate.

Divider Credit: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

New song discovery for the reading: Ecstasy by Anna Tsuchiya

1. 2. 3.

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings! Disclaimer: this is for entertainment only!

Added Description: all my readings are timeless and meant to reach those who resonate to the messages.

[ General Messages: 3; Secret Circle; Rings; Chesapeake Bay; Pink and Purple; “Pick Me”; Uses this :3 text emoji; Slow Burn; Gradual changes; Relationship Content; Insecurity; Free things; DnD; WhatsApp; Comparison; Anticipation; Lana Del Rey; Coquette & Cottegcore; Becauseimmissy content ]

Pile 1

Cards: 6 of Swords; The Chariot; 2 of cups ®; 9 of Pentacles ®; The High Priestess; 2 of Pentacles

[ Messages: Izana Kurokawa; Temperament; Full Moon; Sagittarius or Capricorn Moon; 222; Strength; Unconditional Love; Diluted; Akon (?); Jealousy, Jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo; Heal; 19 or 22; “Silver-Spoon”; Kyle; Craving; Fanfics; 66; 9; June 6th ]

This is oddly specific but Kyle kept popping up…so idk if you are or dealing with a person with that name. It may be an extra confirmation.

Your Current Energy:

You may have moved on from a romantic connection (I’m not getting platonic), I’m getting the sense that you’re in a good place right now. It could have been a big accomplishment because we have the chariot (major arcana). You might’ve experienced a traditional connection that ended up being what you imagined.

For some reason, I keep thinking about relationship advice on tiktok and twitter (discourses). It may have placed a negative effect on your perception of what a relationship is supposed to look like. For a few, you may have grown up around traditional relationships and (might subconsciously) sought for that. Overall there is an emphasis on Traditional relationships regarding gender roles and stereotypes. I feel like it doesn’t help that there’s also a new-age agenda of approaching (new) relationships (mind games) as well as isolation.

After experiencing that you might’ve thought, “Why does everyone want this?” Or “Relationships aren’t all that great”. There’s this sense of having a nihilistic view in love because of media and personal experience. Which, I don’t blame you.

I don’t know if you recently stumbled on a post or something about love but I feel like it challenged your stance on it. Which leads to you wanting a better mindset of love & connections despite what you’ve gone through. Currently, you may be trying to find the balance in your connection (with yourself and other people) and getting to really know yourself.

The energy you’ll come into:

With the high priestess here, you may be learning how to be in tune with your emotions and your gut when it comes to people/connections. I feel like, because you’re getting to know yourself better and starting to understand what you want you’ll have an easier time seeking balance.

Compromise and balance is being emphasized in this reading, so maybe that’s the thing you’ll be focusing on (healing). What is your relationship with Compromise and Balance? How did it affect you? I also see that this will come once understanding nuances instead of having an “extremist” view. Another thing is that you crave for a stable relationship and seek it by finding someone who is stable.

Which is fine but there’s this big need of: them having to be “the (perfect) one” before entering in a committed relationship. You may have gotten fs readings/astro stuff because of this. The funny thing here is — in order to be in a committed relationship is to be okay with the unknown and trusting yourself. I know it’s easier said than done but that’s what I’m getting.

Another thing I’m getting is how you’re challenging yourself to be more focused on yourself in terms of finances, health, and basically practical things. There’s this sense of being grounded; how you want to treat yourself via materials and consumption.

Letter from Your Inner Self

“Who said we have to be rigid to be treated like ‘royalty’? Look at Simba! He's fun and outgoing — he’s still a well respected king and with the love of his life! We need to loosen up a bit, be more courageous when it comes to stepping out of our comfort zone. The longer we stay in our old ways we’ll end up living with regret, that’s worse than living with consequences! How about we do the first thing we were scared of? If we get a booboo on our knee that’s fine at least we did it. If they don’t show interest then that’s okay too, we can continue to sail. All I’m saying is we should have the courage to go with the flow and live our life to the fullest instead of wallowing or through the screen/fantasies. Let’s embrace the unknown and hope for the best, yeah?”

Alrighty pile 1 that’s all I have for you today. Thank you so much for sticking through until the end, I greatly appreciate it. I’m giving you virtual hugs 🫂 and shooting hearts at you! 🧡🧡🔫 *Pew Pew*

Pile 2

Cards: Knight of Swords; King of Pentacles; Empress ®; 10 of Cups; Knight of Cups; The Devil

[ Confirmation Messages: Rollercoaster; Lilo & Stitch; “Inner Demons”; Renaldo from Los Espookys; Camera; Water and Earth Placements; San Francisco; Fear; Amusement Parks; Kali Uchis; ‘Take a Seat’; Road-trips; Night Drives; 333 ]

Your Current Energy

Okay Pile 2 your current energy is stable in terms of finances (as well as materialistic things) and you’re well grounded. You may be looking into how you can better your current financial stability or just being more responsible by getting your needs met especially in money matters.

Another thing is — there’s this sense of caution in regards to spending money. Now, I can’t give financial advice (it’s not my forte) but I can give reassurance. If there is a bit of wiggle room to spend on a snack or on that t-shirt you like then it’s okay to get it. I feel like there’s this sense of shame in regard to spending despite being able to afford things.

I used to feel this way as well and I remember talking to my cousin about it. They would tell me, “Whenever I feel guilty about spending on things I like, I think about the amount of hard working hours I put in to be able to afford it.” To lessen the guilt or shame of buying something that makes us* happy. This doesn’t have to apply to huge spends — can be minor ones like an album or that pint of ice cream you’ve been eyeing at the store.

There’s just this sense of guilt of spending which leads to a bigger guilt of not being able to nurture yourself in the way you want to. I feel like there’s this blame you have towards yourself for wanting things and punishing yourself for not doing it (the “damned if you do damned if you don’t” situation). Based on your cards I don’t see money issues (currently going on) but I do see the trauma linked to it. I don’t know if this stems from childhood or recent experiences.

(If you can, talk with someone you trust. They may have some insight that you need or just connecting with someone in general.)

The Energy You’ll Come Into

What’s funny is: there’s this sense of “fuck it we ball” vibe. I don’t know how it got to this sudden shift but it’s reminding me of one of the reasons why this acc exists. So maybe a tiktok or reel will piss you off into buying something for yourself with zero shame.

( I struggle with imposter syndrome, when I saw a YouTube short of someone dropping a 50lb lollipop from a rooftop and called it an “experiment” (it’s just obnoxious food waste! There was no science or anything!). I got so mad that they were earning money for wasting food I ended up saying “fuck this I’m adding to society” and boom here I am lol. )

I’m not saying your financial trauma is going to magically disappear but there is this sense of being fed up with how it makes you feel. If you are (or will be) seeing a therapist you may be working on your relationship with this financial trauma. I think another thing that you will be coming into is learning how spending and financial issues have affected you. I feel like during this period you may be reflecting on your relationship with money while doing exposure therapy.

But yeah the energy you’ll come into is indulgence and emotional fulfillment (however be careful as to not over do it) without zero shame. Despite not having any balance cards besides the King of Pentacles — I do feel like that’s what you’ll be coming into. Working on balancing your wants and needs while regulating your emotions when it comes to money.

Letter from Your Inner Self

“I know we struggled with money but we’ve put in the hard work to make ourselves happy. Why not bask in our success for just a minute? Why not see how far we come by planning something for ourselves? Can’t we at least congratulate ourselves for putting our foot in the door and say “I did it”! Because we did do that! Yeah, yeah we dealt with delays, some difficulties along the way but we pulled through! We did that, baby! We made it happen — we have a job, a career! Let's celebrate ourselves and give ourselves the gratitude we deserve. We fucking earned it!”

Alrighty pile 2 that’s all I have for you today. Thank you so much for sticking through until the end, I greatly appreciate it! I’m wishing you the best! Remember it’s okay to have nice things for yourself! 🧡

Pile 3

Cards: Page of Swords; The World; 7 of Cups; Page of Pentacles; Knight of Cups; The Hierophant ®

[ Confirmation Messages: Astrology; Occult; Investments in Hobbies; Culinary Arts; New Passions; Lack; TikTok; Radios; Seltzers; Renaissance Fair; OktoberFest (?); Young or New Energy; Amethyst Crystal (Pendant); Twilight; Taking a Leap of Faith; Vampires; Vibrant Personality: 3 Body Problem ]

Your Current Energy

Your energy is like the sun after a cloudy day — like it is not like the other two piles. To be honest your excitement feels so contagious (in a good way). So you may have been very patient in the past or passive. You kind of just let life pass you by until something comes up.

When it did come to you and you took that chance it’s as if the world showed itself. There's so many options to choose from and that’s what’s getting you super excited. I feel called to say there are not wrong choices as it can work out with persistence and hard work.

Since you are in the process of accomplishing things or already achieved it — you may be wanting to expand/explore what’s out there for you. Let's say you got your drivers license, now you get to drive to the place you want. Or let’s say you took a chance on an idea then suddenly, you get loads of engagement. Because you took this chance a lot of opportunities are coming your way to the point it’s almost overwhelming.

The Energy You’ll Come Into

Because you’re putting in the work towards something you love — you’ll feel more fulfilled. I feel like whatever you’re working on will be another way to gain connections. It doesn’t have to be transactional connections — it just means you may make friends along the way or collaborate.

This especially applies to people who went the “unconventional route”. It feels like you made a decision that really aligns with you. I think what also really inspired you is seeing how people made their dreams come true, even if it’s by doing the simplest things. There is encouragement to remain open to what’s to come, especially when it comes to your creative skills.

I’m not getting too much on your future energy besides you making an earning from it and feeling fulfilled. I am getting this celebratory vibe that you have done it from the ground up. Through your patience and perseverance you were able to make it happen. I’m also getting a confirmation “yes, do it” to the question you’ve been really really thinking about.

Letter from Your Inner Self

“Listen…I know your intuition and anxiousness is going haywire right now. However, to feel your intuition you’ll feel a strong and I mean a strong pull to do something. I’m encouraging you to do it — do it even if you’re alone. You’ll never know the outcome unless you do it. Yes it’s unconventional but what’s the harm in taking that chance? We did it once, why not do it again and see where it takes us? It’ll make us happier knowing we did it instead of never doing anything. I believe in us, so don’t lose hope.”

Alrighty Pile 3 that’s all I have for you. Thank you so much for reading until the end, I greatly appreciate it! I’m so excited for you and wishing for things to go smoothly! Best of luck! 🍀🧡

[curlyhairedbooklover]

How many times do Will and Hannibal say each other's names?

I have had this data sitting around finished for over a year (and started collecting it three years ago) and have finally decided to just share it! I’m splitting it up into three posts, this one is about how many times Will and Hannibal say each other’s names, the next adds in Jack and Alana, and the third is a bit of a departure as it’s about the gender split of the murder victims in the show!! 

Very quickly I’ll go over the format! I was particularly interested in what form of name people used so it’s split into first name, title, and full name (slightly varying depending on the needs of each table) as well as whether the character is speaking directly to the person whose name they are saying or if it’s to someone else!

Adding a disclaimer that I did this for fun so I haven’t double checked it meaning there may be some mistakes, but I tried my best! 😌

Getting into the data itself: first of all, Will says Hannibal’s name 109 times throughout the entire series, 29 of them are while talking to Hannibal himself and 80 are while talking to others. Will only uses Hannibal’s first name 48 times with none of them occurring in s1 and only 6 being while talking TO Hannibal himself… (Though the s2 one is in conversation with both Jack and Hannibal being more directed towards the former but Hannibal is present so it counts babeyy!!) He likes calling him just “Dr.” doing so 5 times but the majority of the time he uses “Dr. Lecter” when speaking to Hannibal making up the remaining 17 times! When talking about Hannibal he uses his name the most in s2 at 42 times but only 14 of those are his first name. He prefers to use a more impersonal form in s2 as opposed to s3 where he uses Hannibal’s name 34 times in conversation but a whole 28 of them are his first name!! He really said I’m on intimate terms with Hannibal now 😌. (Especially if we remember this is the season where he addressed Hannibal by his first name 5 times too….) 

Hannibal on the other hand uses Will’s name almost double the amount of times that Will uses his! Hannibal’s total comes to 204! Most of them are in s1&2 at 88 and 75 respectively, before dropping down to 41 times in s3 (2 times less than Will that season!) He also uses Will’s first name Significantly More at 184 times, in fact he only full names him 20 times! The only two times he uses Will’s full name while talking to him are in 1.11 when Will has a seizure in his living room and he’s doing the “It is [time], I am in [place] and my name is Will Graham” routine. Interestingly he uses Will’s full name 9 times while talking to others in s2 but they are exclusively in s2a, once Will got out of prison he went all in on ‘Will is my best friend’. Although I want to note that in 2.1 he uses Will’s first name while talking to others 10 times during the episode…… There are only three episodes in the entire show where he doesn’t use Will’s name and they are all in s3 (3.3, 3.4, and 3.7) he really tried to have his Hot Girl Summer and forget about his ex though luckily (for him and us) it did not last. And in 3.9 he uses Will’s name 15 times that episode and all of them were his first name, he’s down bad!! He simply can’t help it!! Across s3b he uses Will's name 32 times which is 78% of all the uses in s3, turns out going to prison for a man just makes you talk about him More!

This table also includes a side table of every time they talk to or about each other! Not much to note there except that they talk the most in s1&2 resting at 39 and 43 respectively before dropping to only 25 conversations in s3 but they are separated for 5 episodes so I think we can forgive them for that 🤷‍♀️ although they do have a few flashback or hallucination conversations (on that topic the two conversations in 2.4 are hallucinations from Will and the single conversation in 3.8 is technically the letter Hannibal sent Will but I felt like they deserved to be counted!!) When talking about each other Hannibal initially does so more, having 24 conversations in s1 as opposed to Will's 7 about him. Whereas they are more evenly matched in s2 with Will at 33 and Hannibal at 27. In s3 Will completely overtakes Hannibal talking about him 36 times to Hannibal's 13! It’s interesting that despite Will talking so little about Hannibal in s1 he ends up the ultimate winner at a total count of 76 conversations to Hannibal’s 64! But it's safe to say that with those totals they are both completely obsessed with the other 😌

To f i n a l l y let my English degree in for a minute it’s very telling that Will uses Hannibal’s first name sparingly, indicating that it took time for him to build intimacy and trust with him. If we look at the occasions in which he deploys it when talking to Hannibal he uses it as a weapon to induce Hannibal into doing things BY referencing their intimacy this way and letting it bleed into his words. This convinces Hannibal that he needs to go to prison so Will could always find him and later to go along with Will's plan to break him out. Hannibal on the other hand readily uses Will’s first name from the beginning and in fact does so More at this point than later on. This shows how he was fostering dependence and creating trust that he could then use to break Will and watching him break would in turn feed his curiosities about Will. There is also a notable jump in 3.8 in his use of Will's name since the beginning of the season, it marks the first time they have seen each other in 3 years. Now Hannibal is trying to re-ingratiate himself to Will while simultaneously throwing barbs at him to try to inflict some of the pain he felt in their separation and to test if Will felt the same anguish (which we know he of course did however much he denies it..)

I hope that this data has been interesting and most importantly has illuminated how insane they are about each other!! I would love to hear any other thoughts people have in the tags or comments!

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

Shoutout to @will-gayham for going insane about this with me for the past two years and being as enthusiastic about ✨data✨ as I am, love you! 🫶

[kozumesphone]

💌┊₊˚⊹꒷ RED WINE SUPERNOVA .ᐟ

⤷ piper mclean x daughter of dionysus!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ liked by aphroditesfav.piper, mcshizzleman, j.grace, sallysgoldenboy and 96,337 others

tagged: aphroditesfav.piper

yn.yln baby, why don't you come over? red wine supernova, falling into me . . .

view all 69,325 comments

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j.grace congratulations, guys (: you’re literally endgame and my personal otp, so 🫡

ㅤ ↳ yn.yln AHAHAH JACE ILYSM BBY ❤️!!

♡ liked by yn.yln, larue.c, mcshizzleman, j.grace and 93,617 others

tagged: yn.yln

aphroditesfav.piper so baby, let's get freaky, get kinky, let's make this bed get squeaky . . .

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yn.yln BABY?? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH?????! running back home asap, be right there, my sweet angel 🏃‍♀️💨

ㅤ ↳ aphroditesfav.piper i’ll be waiting for you, ma’m 🫡

ㅤ ↳ mcshizzleman ew

ㅤ ↳ yn.yln wdym ew ): i’m going home fast to bake stuff for pipes so she doesn’t blow up the kitchen ):

ㅤ ↳ aphroditesfav.piper oh my GOD, please have SOME faith in me

mcshizzleman KEEP IT PG 13 OH MY GOD, THERE'S KIDS ON THIS APP?? (@/j.grace 😞)

ㅤ ↳ aphroditesfav.piper you're just jealous shush ✋

↳ j.grace oh, shut up, leo 😒

↳ mcshizzleman yes, sir 🫡

dio.urlocaldrunkard should I be concerned?

ㅤ ↳ yn.yln LMAO no, chill, dad <3

larue.c if one of yall was a guy, you’d be pregnant like yesterday

↳ aphroditesfav.piper …valid

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masterlist

answering this req from char !

~

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[thecapricunt1616]

Dad!Carmy x Beach Day

Okok guys more Dad!Carmy brainrot! It’s time for a walk *gently grabs your hand* okay okay so your first is away at summer camp for the first time, that was it’s whole ordeal (Carmy cried the whole first week they were gone intermittently bc he missed them esp. after you put your littlest to bed bc ‘the routine just feels odd babe we’re missing one’) so to turn his frown upside down you had been planning little outings so he wouldn’t just sit by the mailbox every day like a sad puppy waiting for the letters your kid sends home. Todays outing: A beach day! 

(More BTC 🫶) 

So as soon as your Toddler got up that morning and told you she wanted to make sand castles that day, the choice was easy. Seeing your sexy man carrying your little girl on his shoulders while you relaxed and enjoyed premium beach snacks that he’d pack for you and get some well needed tanning time? That was always a good day. 

By this time - Carmy has gone full dad mode because having a son old enough for sleep away camp and a daughter out of diapers that’s about 8 years of dad-ing, he has it all. Meaning, the man has yes - he’s gotten a truck. *Keep walking don’t look at me that way* because imagine he’d be like 

‘Babe- think, when we take the kids camping, or when we go on trips- we need something with a lot of space, plus it’s so comfy inside! And seat warmers! So you won’t get cold in the winter. And I can get a snow plow for the front so i don’t have to keep spending hours doing the driveway in the winter, and grocery shopping! Whenever we go to Costco we never have enough space and it’s so much safer you should see the safety ratings on this thing the guy really sold me on it. Unc was for it babe! He told me to go for it’  

Like he would have an endless amount of reasons but let’s be real. Little man, big truck - plus your son would think it’s cool. So you’d be all comfy up front with your cooled seats, your daughter in back in her little princess sunglasses and flip flops chewing on bubble gum to be like dad because after 6 years he’s just replaced cigarettes with nic gum and he hasn’t even considered quitting. Of course she’d have one of those little screen things on the back of the seat and bluey is on deck, or Ms Rachel if he’s feeling particularly educational that day. 

He would of course stop at Starbucks when you and your daughter ask and get her a lemonade and a cake pop, get you your signature drink he’d already have memorized for years and then a black cold brew for himself - I still can’t picture the man having anything in his coffee he still seems like a black coffee dude to me!!! 

When you get to the beach he has the whole set up. I’m talking he has the truck bed loaded, he has a beach cart and everything. You are a beach cabana family you are that family. Because let’s be real if Carmy is anything he’s prepared and every family needs that guy so Nat and Richie and all the nieces and nephews would also come hang!! He’s researched and found you the comfiest beach chairs, he has a timer on his watch and is carrying the baby to the tent and baptizing her ass in sunscreen but it’s funny because you have to force him to let you get his back 

He would totally be the sand art uncle, he would help his daughter make the sickest sand castle ever, he would teach Evie his ways too like he’d have a whole method with adding water to build a base he would be in there. Oh!! And he would loooove taking his daughter hunting for seashells. Like imagine you’re just watching as he walks back and forth with her on the shore, bright blue bucket in one hand and her little hand in another, crouching down whenever he finds a cool one and doing the same when she finds one she wants to show and bring like

“Wow! That’s a pretty one baby, I can’t wait for you to show mama that one!” He would be so supportive omg. Also teaching her how to write her name in the sand 🥹. Don’t even get me started on him bringing her swimming. She would absolutely love the game of holding onto his back while he dives under the water and he’d tell her like “take a deep breath we’re gonna go under ready!” And he would just tire her out within a few hours so that she could take a nap on his chest in the cabana after you have lunch and get a chance to talk. Premier sandwiches of course, Carmy has mastered the beach sandwich. Doritos, the whole lot. 

Oh!! Oh!! And he is a total grill master. He has a little charcoal grill he makes you guys smash burgers on the beach and you get to hang and watch the sunset, around the 4th he would always bring sparklers for the kids they would be heavily supervised of course because Carmy plus fireworks is a nervous wreck but sparklers are ok 

And of course on the way home your daughter would beg to stop for ice cream and he would be suckered in because he is absolutely the pushover parent. 

To end the day if you came home and checked the mailbox and there was a fat letter from your son detailing all of the stuff they’ve been doing that week along with a ton of pictures from the polaroid camera you sent him with it would be a day he gushes about literally forever ingrained in his memory. 

Okay, I hope you enjoyed our walk 🫶

[fairyofsilence]

RISING STAR | 1/7 | THAT’S THE INDUSTRY, BABY SERIES |

Pairing: Producer!Namjoon x Trainee!Reader

Warnings (there's important trigger warnings mentioned, read each one of them carefully and proceed with caution): +18, Yandere, grooming, age gap (reader is 19 while Namjoon is 31), cursing, extreme abuse of power, manipulation, reader has a bad relationship with her mother, self-deprecation, reader has a low self esteem, mentions of unhealthy diets, mentions of toxic beauty standards, both explicit and non explicit sexual scenes; oral sex (m and f reciving), fingering, spanking, protected sex, sex in the work place, loss of virginity, mentions of blood, slight dubcon (she agrees to have sex after he coaxes her into it), mentions of aftercare, mentions of sex, recording of sexual acts without a partner's knowledge, blackmail, forced relationships.

Summary: It's the opportunity of a lifetime, everything you have ever wished for has been presented to you on a silver platter, becoming the next rising star of the critically acclaimed producer Kim Namjoon was a dream come true.

Too bad you are to naive to confuse a nightmare for a blessing.

I don't agree nor condone any of the actions made by any of the characters throughout the story, I also do not belive that any of the members of BTS would act this way or have this type of behaviour, this story it's fiction and it's written with the sole purpose of entertainment.

Word count:  11.3 k

This is the first of seven parts for the That's the industry, baby series, you cand find my main masterlist here. The stories can be read as one shots, the stories just take place in the same universe.

Hello again! It’s been a while, believe me I know, and I also know I’ve been announcing this fic since practically a year now but get this: I’m a depressed college student who loves to procrastinate, but I shit you not tonight I said “fuck it” and finished this enitre fic in eight hours, this is extreamly unedited and I’m posting this at 6 a.m, I’m not even sure I’ll be able to edit this until June but until then please enjoy and let me know what you think! I created this series because I’ve always been shocked at the ammount of disgusting things the entertainment industry has try to hide from the general public, and this series will tackle most of that, withouth more introductions, here’s the first of them, enjoy!

EDITED ON 05/27/2023

You haven’t moved an inch since you’ve put your eyes on the board.

 You’re trembling, you can feel the air starting to leave your lungs, but you don’t seem able to take a breath because you feel like if you so much as blink, the announcement will disappear from the board, and it all just be an illusion.

 But it’s not an illusion, you’re actually looking at the announcement on the board right now, the letters are big, bright, and bold, and there’s no doubt that what you’re looking at now is your name next to the word “Congratulations.”

 “Congratulations Y/N Y/L/N, you won!

You’ve been chosen as Rkive records new rising star.

For more details, check the inbox on your email in which you’ve been send the instructions on what to do next.”

 All sound seemed to quiet down, you couldn’t hear a single thing except a striking white noise ringing on your ears, and although you can feel some of the trainees jumping around trying to congratulate you, you can’t seem to do anything right now, your body is paralyzed, your eyes fill up with tears and you feel as if your heart had gone all the way up to your throat.

 You’ve won, you’re finally going to debut, Kim Namjoon had chosen you.

 It feels surreal, you’ve been waiting for this moment, four years to be exact, and it has finally going to happen, your biggest dream was just a day away from becoming true, a small laugh leaves your mouth at the thought, you’ve made it, you finally made it happen.

 Reality comes back to you in the form of a hug, you realize the person who’s hugging you is Soowon, one of the newest trainees who, after you got her out of trouble with the singing coach, decided to attach herself to you and proclaim the two of you as best friends, she seems more excited than you right now, jumping around while trying to not break the hug, somehow you manage to wrap your arms around her, giving her a weird side hug, but she doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seems even more excited after you returned the hug.

 “You did it! I know you would win” She says after hugging me a little bit tighter “It was only a matter of time before this happened, you’ve been working so hard” You feel a tear rolling down your cheek after her words, you finally turn around to return the energy of the hug and while rubbing your back, she whispers onto your ear “I know you’ll be the biggest star of this company Y/N, I’ve known it since the day we met”

 You allow yourself to feel the praise and hugs from your fellow trainees because you know that once you step a foot inside of your apartment, you know that your biggest obstacle from you reaching your dreams is waiting for you inside, so just for a few more hours, you let yourself be happy, because you know that when she finds out about the news you received today, a light argument is the best thing you can’t expect.

Your mother is already at your apartment by the time you got home, and that was the first weird thing you noticed.

The second was that she made dinner, your mother never makes dinner, she always works until late in the night and you’ve survived on rice and instant ramen because of that, but tonight she seems to gone all out, there’s even meat at the table for god sake, and that’s how you know there’s only two reasons behind this happening; she was either fired or she got a new, better paying job, and you’ll be very surprised if it ends up being the latter.

 She has never been good at maintaining a job, and for someone who’s been poor her whole life, she doesn’t seem to understand that to maintain a job is to be quiet, the workers should never complain to their bosses, at least, that’s what you’ve learned during your time in the company.

 She notices your presence after you stand in the entrance for a while, then again, it’s not hard to do so, your apartment is not big enough for you to go unnoticed anyway, she turns off the stove and walks up to you with a smile, greeting you excitedly.

 “Hi sweetheart, sit down please, I’m just going to bring out some plates, okay?” You don’t say anything, but she doesn’t seem to mind the lack of response, turning away from you to grab two plates from the small kitchen cabinet while you set down your backpack and take a seat on the floor in front of the small table, your palms begin to sweat as you mentally prepare to tell your mother about the news, which you’re sure she won’t take kindly.

“How was your day? You usually come back earlier than this, I told you that this trainee stuff cannot interfere with school” And there she goes, you can even seat down in peace for five minutes before she starts listing all the stupid reasons why you should be a trainee, but today you won’t take any criticism from her, actually, today you’ll prove her just how wrong she’s been.

“It was great, I have good news actually” Your voice loses power for a bit, but you pull through it, your mother sits down and seems curious about the news for once.

“Yeah? What is it? You’re finally leaving that company for good? They’re the reason you got two years behind in school” Your eye twitches at her remark but you ignore her before dropping the bomb.

“No, it’s the opposite actually” Her eyebrows raise at that, and she looks at you expectantly before you say, “I’m signing my contract tomorrow, I’m going to debut soon.”

 The silence that follows after your words seems to last an eternity.

 Your mother puts her utensils down, she licks her lips and lets out a deep sigh after a few seconds, she doesn’t like this at all.

 “I was expecting good news” Her words feel like a dagger piercing right through your heart, but you maintain your posture, you can’t let her, and her hurtful words get to you.

“This is good news mom, don’t you understand? I wasn’t sign to a small company, Bangtan signed me, Kim Namjoon chose me” Your mother makes eye contact, and it makes you falter for a second, she always knows how to bring you down when you’re finally going up.

“Who put those ideas on your head? That Kim Namjoon that you always talk about?” Before you can even talk back she cuts you off before adding “Sweetheart, I thought you were smarter than this, when man want something, they’ll say anything to get you” You hate when she does this, when she makes you feel small, making you think you’re stupid without even listening to what you have to say, you hate her.

“First of all, I’m meeting him for the first time tomorrow, so no mother, he hasn’t been putting any ideas on me, and also, why are you acting so shocked at this? I’ve been training for years, you know that it was bound to happen, I’ve been working so hard for this moment to come and the only thing you can say is something negative, can you just say ‘congratulations’ at least? This is something important to me, can you at least pretend that you’re happy for me?” Your voice breaks by the end and instead of listening to your concerns, your mother decides to do what she does best; get defensive after you call her out.

“Why do you always just assume the worst of me darling? I’m just expressing my concern as your mother, is it wrong to be worried about who my daughter is going to be spending so much time with?” Her tone just manages to push you over the edge every time, you don’t even realize you’re crying until a teardrop land on your lap, you’re quick to wipe your tears before she gets the satisfaction of knowing she can affect you so much, you make eye contact with her before responding.

“Why can you just be happy for me mom?” You’re tired of arguing, but as usual, she doesn’t notice how you feel.

"I'm just worried about you, darling. You know that the career you want is risky. What if they change their minds and leave you without warning? What if you get injured before you even have a chance to perform? And what if they decide you're not good-looking enough after a few years? Have you thought about what you'll do then?" The venomous words spill out of her mouth so effortlessly that you're taken aback. Even your mother seems surprised by what she just said, but she doesn't backtrack or apologize. She only looks at you with a guilty expression, her eyes betraying her harsh tone. You let out a bitter chuckle before responding.

“You know what mom? I don’t think you’re worried” you say, your eyes fixed on your hands in your lap before voicing the thoughts that have been on your mind for a long time “I think you’re jealous” The silence in the room was so prominent you could hear a pin drop “I know you were young when you had me and I’m sorry I screwed up your life, but your misery is not my fault, I have to live my own life and make my own path, and being an idol is the path that I chose, so I’ll let things clear for you, you either accept my choices without any type of criticism or I’ll have to leave this place” You stand up and before she can respond, you leave her with this; “although, after signing my contract, I might just leave either way” with that, you make your way to your shared bedroom, not having the courage to say anything after your fight.

Later that night, you noticed your mother quietly slipping into bed, assuming you were already asleep. However, you struggled to find peace, tossing and turning as your thoughts continued to plague you. Every time you tried to close your eyes; you could only see the look on your mother's face after your confrontation. The night stretched on endlessly, and despite your efforts to find rest, sleep eluded you. The weight of guilt lay heavy on your heart, and you knew that the rift between you and your mother had only grown wider. Your once-fragile relationship now seemed completely shattered. However, you were resolute in your decision to pursue your career and follow your dreams. While the thought of losing your mother was painful, the thought of losing this opportunity would have been even worse. With this assurance, you finally managed to drift off into unconsciousness, with the hope that tomorrow you’ll be able to forget about the tough time you went through tonight.

You don’t think you’ve ever been more nervous than you are right now.

 You can feel the cold sweat forming on the crown of your forehead, your body feels like a quivering mass of jelly, the subtle trembles barely perceptible to anyone but you, a physical manifestation of your own nervousness, you’ll be biting your nails too if you could, but ever since receiving the most shocking news of your life you don’t think there’s anything left for you to bite off.

 Today, if everything goes according to plan, you’ll become the newest artist under Rkive’s music records, the most prestigious record label in the entire country, owned by one of the most acclaimed producers of the decade, and your own personal God, Kim Namjoon.

 As you step into Rkive's gleaming headquarters, the air is charged with an indescribable energy. You can practically feel the prestige of the company pulsing through the walls, and the faint sound of music drifting through the halls is enough to send shivers down your spine. You check your phone for the last time just to make sure you got everything down, the instructions they gave you were simple, but your anxiety makes you feel hyperaware of everything, taking a deep breath while closing your eyes you try to calm yourself down, chill the hell out, you say to yourself, you’re going to weird him out, granted, Namjoon might not be weirded out by you but he’ll definitely would think you aren’t ready for this and that’s not the case at all, you've worked so hard for this opportunity, and you won't let your anxiety get in the way now that you're so close to being signed, especially by someone like Namjoon, and given his reputation, being signed by him would be the ultimate validation of your hard work and talent.

 Kim Namjoon isn’t an easy man to impress, because not only has he worked with the biggest stars in the industry, but also, any music related award you can think of; he most likely already has won at least two of those, and if his experience wasn’t intimidating enough, his unwavering commitment to achieving perfection on every aspect of his music is both impressive and intimidating, commanding respect from those around him, and you definitely respect him, in fact, there's no one in the world that you look up more than Namjoon, you want to impress him, make him remember who you are, make him wish he had discover you sooner, you want your idol to want you as desperately as you want him, and you won’t leave this building until you accomplish that.

 As you approach the front desk, the receptionist glances up at you with raised eyebrows, silently urging you to speak. Though her harsh glare could be intimidating, you're determined to stay focused on the reason you’re here. You won't let her nasty glare affect you, not even a little bit.

 You take a deep breath and greet her politely, "Hi." Even though she might be looking down on you, you refuse to be rude. You state your business clearly, "My name is Y/N, and I have a meeting with Mr. Kim Namjoon today in his studio."

At the mention of his name, her glare softens up a bit, but still looks annoyed, with a monotone voice, she says “Wait for just a second please” before reaching for the telephone on the desk, it’s only a matter of seconds after calling when the other line picks up, they exchange a couple of words that you can’t decipher and after she hangs up, she looks back at you with a fake smile before standing up, she speaks with a more cheerful tone this time “Mr. Kim’s assistant is coming down to escort you to his studio, please wait for a moment, you’re welcome to sit down in the lounge as you wait” the receptionist points at the small waiting lounge that’s right in front of the elevators, you whisper her a small thank you before making your way over there, sitting down on the individual sleek black leather couch, impatiently waiting for his assistant to come out of one the elevators.

After sitting there for just a few minutes, you begin to feel very out of place, everything in this building looks, feels, and even smells expensive, and somehow here you are, a nameless trainee with second hand bought clothes, with the smallest, cheapest purse which you keep holding on tightly into your lap, shrinking into yourself more each minute that passes by.

You’ve never had a high self-esteem, but it seems the small bit of confidence you’ve had has disappear after knowing that you’ve won the contest and you will be meeting Kim Namjoon in person, you’re scared, your mind tormenting you with all the “what if?” questions, what if he decides you’re not actually the one?, what if he thinks you’re not good enough?

 What if?, what if?, what if?

 Before you can think about any more ways on how this whole thing could go wrong, the small ding sound of the elevator pulls you away from your thoughts, you’re quick to stand up and soon after that, a short, petite woman steps out of the elevator, her eyes find you quickly after coming out and a small smile appears on her face as she approaches you, clutching a clipboard on her hands.

 “Hi!” Her cheerful tone catches you by surprise, but you smile nevertheless “You’re Y/N right?” you answer her with a small nod, which she ends up mimicking before talking again “I’m Sohee, I’m Namjoon’s assistant, do you have everything we asked you to bring?” you respond with a small ‘yes’ before making a gesture towards your bag, she nods again before signaling the elevator “Follow me please, I’ll take you to his studio so you can talk for a bit before signing” You’re quick to follow her request by stepping into the elevator next to her, she presses the button of the 14th floor and you both wait until the doors close and the elevator starts running, Sohee turns to you and smiles before asking “Nervous?” You let out a small laugh before answering.

“Very, I can’t believe this is happening right now” Your palms begin to sweat, and she laughs as you wipe your hands on your pants, you decide to redirect the conversation towards her “So, how long have you’ve been working for him?” Sohee’s eyes widen up a little bit after your question, she seems genuinely surprised by your interest, but she answers either way.

“Three years next month, my best friend got me this job actually, it’s sort of a long story but to keep things short, she works with Kim Taehyung, he told her about Namjoon needing an assistant and that’s how I landed here” She speaks very fast and you have a hard time catching what she’s saying, but before you can respond, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors begin to open, you’re welcomed by a similar lounge than the one in the reception, only that this lounge had a large plaque that read “Rkive Music Records” in a beautiful gold color, the letters engraved in a pitch-black tone, if you though the lobby looked expensive, Namjoon’s floor was a whole different level.

 “Follow me please, I’ll lead you to his office, he’s already waiting for you” Her words make you shiver, you can’t believe it’s finally happening, the excitement is making your legs shake and you can barely breath as you make your way through the long hallway, passing the small reception desk and several doors of what you can assume are different studios.

 Sohee comes an abrupt stop, causing you to hold your breath until she turns to look at you and with a bright smile, she gestures the door right in front of you, which holds a sleek, platinum plaque with Kim Namjoon’s name engraved on it, you gulp and letting out a deep sigh, she says “This is it, good luck!” She holds up two thumbs and you let a nervous laugh at her antics, she leaves quietly and just like that you’re left on your own, with a shaky hand, you reach to know on the studio’s door, you only have to wait for a couple of seconds, but you’re anxiety is making it seem like time going slower than it actually is, you’re beginning to lose your mind until finally, the door handle turns and you’re face to face with the person you’ve never thought you’ll ever see this close, Kim Namjoon stands right in front of you, with a big smile on his face, his dimples only making him look even more attractive, his dark hair is pulled back and he’s wearing all black, he looks hot and he knows it, that’s what makes him more dangerous, it seems like an eternity before he opens his mouth and says, “Well hello there” His deep voice makes you even more nervous, “You must be Y/N, please, come in” Granted, he chose you as the winner of the contest, he must know your name, it’s logical, but your inner fan cannot believe your idol just said your name so casually, you compose yourself before you answer him with an enthusiastic nod, not forgetting to bow before anything, Namjoon let’s out a chuckle before leaning against the wall to make room for you to walk in, you’re quick to follow, entering his studio while a timid “Thank you” leaves your lips.

 The first thing you notice about his studio is how big it is, you had expected nothing less than this, giving that he’s the owner of this record label, but it still doesn’t make it any less shocking, you almost feel ashamed of the fact that his studio seems to be bigger than your shared apartment with your mom. When you first walk in, there’s a small hallway that leads you to the main part of his studio, but instead of a wall, there’s a huge glass to showcase his biggest accomplishments, his awards are perfectly lined up in multiple shelves and there’s some of his biggest songs displayed with as either platinum or gold records, some of the movies he has produced the soundtrack of are also displayed by a frame with the poster on it, you don’t realize you stopped following him until he reached out to tap you in the shoulder, you turned to look at him and you found him with a teasing smirk on his face, you give him a shy smile in return.

 “Sorry, I was just admiring everything" Your face feels hot, and he lets out a deep chuckle that makes you shiver, his presence alone makes you nervous, and having him smiling and talking to you with that deep voice of his was making you crazy.

"Don't worry, it’s a bit overwhelming isn’t it?” You nod and Namjoon imitates the action “Hobi says that all the time when he comes by” The casual mention of such a huge star makes your eyes go wide and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he smiles widely and you could swear he mouthed the word cute, but you couldn’t tell if you were just imagining things or if it actually happened, so you only smiled and continued to follow him through the hallway.

 And if you thought the hallway was something, you weren’t prepared to see his actual studio, in fact, you couldn’t even process your surroundings because Namjoon put his right hand on your lower back, a weird feeling washed all over you but noticing he was guiding you to a small sofa, you turned to look at him and he only gestured with his other hand for you to take a seat, suddenly, your nerves made you feel silly, of course he was just being nice, you were just paranoid.

 “Please take a seat and get comfortable, it’s going to be a pretty long session” Namjoon chuckles after that and you let out an awkward laugh.

 His studio was so intimidating, you couldn't even sit down in peace without thinking you'll probably break something that cost more than your apartment, sensing your nervousness, Namjoon puts his hand on your shoulders while giving you a reassuring smile.

 "Don’t panic, everything's going well" You give him a small nod, and he turns his back after you finally seem to catch your breath, walking towards what seems to be a mini fridge "Would you like something to drink? I have water, some energy drinks" Namjoon pauses and looks up at you with a teasing smile, his dimples full on display, this man would be the death for you "I have beer as well, if you can handle it" He raises an eyebrow and it makes you giggle, Namjoon seems to love your reaction, but he waits patiently for your answer, you compose yourself and finally give him an answer.

“Water is fine, thank you” Your voice is barely audible, but you don’t stutter so you consider that a win, Namjoon nods and pulls two water bottles from the mini fridge, and makes his way to his chair after closing the door.

“So, let’s start talking business, shall we?” Namjoon says after handing you the bottle and sitting down in a chair, the only thing between you and him being the small coffee table where a leather folder lays over it, as well as two fancy looking pens.

“Okay” You agree, and Namjoon’s aura seems to take a shift, exuding power and knowledge, two things you very much lack off.

“So, I’m assuming that you read the contract when you entered the contest, right?” His gaze is so intense it makes you grip on the edge of your skirt tightly, responding with a nod because you know that your voice will give out if you try to speak right now, Namjoon takes your answer before continuing, “Basically, the contract says that we’re making an EP, you will be making all types of promotions and you will be making a music video for the main track, I have some songs ready and while I personally think the artist should have an input on the songs, we were given only two months to deliver a full EP, so as soon as you sign we’ll begin to work, okay?” Your enthusiastic nod makes him smile “Perfect, do you have any concerns about the contract? You should ask questions before signing, you know?” That makes you genuinely laugh, and Namjoon seems happy he has eased your mood a little.

“The contract is only for an EP, right?” Your tone is a bit steadier and Namjoon nods before explaining.

“Yes, but I’m sure your EP will be a success, which means a more permanent contract” Namjoon can sense you tensing up at the probability, so he surprisingly, reaches out to squeeze your thigh before adding “Someone as talented as you shouldn’t be worried about that, your debut will go better than you expect, I’ll make sure of that” His words feel like a soft blanket, providing comfort to your worries, the current position of his hand makes you nervous, but you pay it no mind as you nod and smile, Namjoon is just being friendly, there’s nothing to be scared about.

“So, what about management? Who is going to be my manager?” Your question makes him smile and you’re shocked to the core when his index finger rises up to point at himself, there’s no fucking way “But Mr. Kim, you’ve never- “Namjoon cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.

“There’s a first time for everything, right?” You’re speechless and Namjoon takes your silence as a cue to keep talking, “You know, when I saw your audition, I was starstruck, I even got mad at the management because how in the fuck have they kept you training for so long? Such a talented person deserves to be seen by the whole world” His dragon shaped eyes look directly into yours and you’re left breathless by his praise, hearing those words coming from his mouth seemed unreal “I wanted to be in control of your debut because while this people might have underappreciated your talent, I saw your potential right from the start” His praise makes you feel dizzy and you can’t believe what’s happening right now, you can barely register him reaching out for one of the pens at the table, putting in one of your palms before he asks “What do you think then, would you give me the chance to make you the star you’re meant to be?” You almost feel hypnotized, slowly nodding your head while gripping the expensive pen on your hand, Namjoon’s smile almost seems to shine as he hands you the leather folder containing the contract, you read quickly through the pages before reaching the final one, where your name is beneath a long line, waiting only for your signature, because Namjoon had already signed this.

 With a trembling hand and with a deep sigh, you put the folder on your lap and click on the small button on the pen, you only pause for a second before signing the contract, you’re still in the clouds even after looking at your signature on the strikingly white paper, you lift your head only to see Namjoon looking at you with mischief written all over his face, his eyes seem to hide something you can’t quite decipher, but he soon opens his mind to let you know exactly what his thoughts are.

 “Don’t worry darling, I’ll make sure you become the biggest star this company has ever seen.”

 You knew that becoming an artist was never going to be an easy job, but the amount of times you’ve stayed working late this week alone was ridiculous, turns out, the rumors about Namjoon’s work ethic were true, his perfectionism was driving you insane, the amount of times he had asked you to start a song all over again because he wasn’t a ‘100% sure’ if he like the way you sounded almost made you bang your head against the recording booth wall, but you didn’t, you stayed put, only smiling and responding by putting your thumbs up until he gave you the sign to get ready to start recording again. You sang until your throat became sore, you danced until you stopped feeling your limbs, the fatigue was quickly catching up to you and everything started to pile up fast, you needed to memorize all lyrics and choreographies in less than two months without mentioning all the physical changes the agency was demanding from you, your mother’s words ringing loudly through your ears every time you were reminded to not eat until you were done for the day and even then, your single daily meal would barely make you feel full, you had to control your hunger by eating a small bowl of ice cubes and drinking water.

 You were in the verge of a breakdown when one night after your first month of working together, Namjoon had finally told you that you did great and that you could come out to join him while he worked, you were so caught up with singing your heart out that you didn’t realized that Namjoon had ordered dinner for the two of you, you thanked him by giving him a small bow and a tired smile, he only gestured her to sit down and to eat, and you did exactly that, pulling your chair closer to him before sitting down, to which you could see from the corner of your eye that he smirk at your actions.

 “I didn’t ask for what you liked but I supposed that you can’t go wrong with McDonald’s” Namjoon said while putting his earphones down to his neck and grabbing his own dinner, you made a hand gesture to let him know that it’s fine, McDonald’s right now seems like heaven to your starved stomach.

“It’s okay, you shouldn't worry about me, I would’ve eaten something at home” You dig into some fries and Namjoon sends you a look you can’t quite comprehend.

“Nonsense, how can I not worry about you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed about the stupid diets the company is forcing you to do” You freeze at his words and Namjoon lets out a deep sigh before adding “You should’ve told me before; I would’ve done something earlier” His concern makes you feel guilty, so you try to make excuses to make him (and yourself) feel better.

“They’re just making sure I look good before the filming starts, I have to look my best before debuting, you know that” You can’t even look at him while you’re talking, you don’t know if it’s your shitty diet or Namjoon’s words that make you lose your appetite, but he wasn’t content with your answer, pulling his chair even closer to you, forcing you to finally look at him in the eye for the first time tonight.

“It’s bullshit, you already look perfect to me” His words make your heart jump “And besides, if you don’t eat well, you won’t have enough energy for the live performances, so you better start eating good after today, you got that?” You haven’t even noticed than Namjoon’s hand has made it’s way to one of your thighs, whilst your knees were faintly brushing against his, his sudden closeness catches you off guard, but you make no effort to separate yourself from him.

 During this past month, you have started to catch up on some patterns, patterns that make you feel somewhat uneasy, because while you know it might just be your imagination, you can’t help but to realize how isolated you’ve become after you started to work on your EP, you haven’t spoken to any of your fellow trainee friends because, according to Namjoon, they might be jealous of your upcoming debut so you must focus on yourself right now, which is a fancier way of telling you to not speak to them, besides that, the only interactions you get outside of the building is with your mother, which, after your fight, your relationship with her now consisted on greeting each other at night and leaving the apartment before either one of you woke up, and while you talked with Sohee every now and then, the only constant human interaction you had for the past month has been with Namjoon, and while your silly crush on him remains very much alive, you can’t help but to feel like something isn’t right, his lingering touches make you jump every time it happens, and some of the things he says makes you feel uncomfortable, but you’ve blame it all on your nerves, the deadlines are approaching too fast and Namjoon is only trying to make things easier for you, it makes you feel ungrateful to doubt on him like this but you can’t help it, he’s a man with too much power and you think it’s only natural for someone in your position to feel like this.

 You brush off your inner dilemma when Namjoon asks you if you want to listen to your last recording, passing you a pair of headphones and waiting until you’ve put them before playing it, you’re soon welcomed by the perfect instrumental before hearing your voice through the headphones, no matter how many times you’ve done this by now, listening to your own voice feels just as exciting as the first time, the unfinished song quickly comes to an end, you and Namjoon continue to talk about minor details until you pause the conversation to drink some water, your focus on the large screen on Namjoon’s mixing table makes you unaware of the intense stare he has set on you.

 “Do you have a boyfriend?” Namjoon’s unexpected question takes you by surprise, and stare at the screen in shock before you can answer him.

“What?” You let an awkward laugh out as you look in his direction, his expression being unable to read. Your brain still can't comprehend a reasoning behind his question or why he would be interested in such meaningless matters, but he was your boss now, and you didn’t want to make him mad at you just because you felt a little uncomfortable by his question, so you responded “I don’t have a boyfriend, I never had one actually” You’re anxious and that makes you share more information than what he has asked for, however, he seems to take this information as if it was exactly what he needed to know, he leans back in his chair and gives you a teasing smile after your confession.

“Now that I can’t believe it” You're about to protest in your defense but he finishes what he wanted to say before you get a single word out of your mouth “A beautiful girl like you has never had a boyfriend? That just can’t be true” His smile grows bigger as you get more flustered by his compliments, his hand reaches out towards your hair and tucks the loose strand that covered one side of your face, caressing your cheek with his long fingers as you lean into his touch, welcoming his soft touch after longing for it for what felt like an eternity "I'm convinced now that boys your age simply cannot see a real women even if it’s right in front of them” Namjoon seems to thrive on the effect he has caused in you after you let out a shy giggle at his words, how does he always know what’s the right thing to say?, you feel so giddy inside you feel like you might burst with how happy you felt after hearing those words come out of his lips, did Namjoon really see you as a woman? You simply cannot believe it, a man like him would never set his sight on such a meaningless, young, and stupid girl like you, no, a man like him needed a mature and sophisticated woman who matched his good looks and graceful nature.

“You don’t mean that” Your lack of confidence makes you take distance from him by standing up and trying to walk away from him, but Namjoon seemed to have different plans.

 You gasped loudly as he spined you around before picking you up so easily and placing you over his mixing table, it was a little uncomfortable giving that you were sitting over so many buttons, but right now that didn't bother you in the slightest, especially now that his mouth has quickly found it’s way on yours, the two of you sharing a such a messy kiss that will make you feel ashamed if you were on your right mind, he bites your bottom lip and you let out a small whimper at his actions, Namjoon separates from you only after your lips are red and swollen,  you’re too far gone to notice him parting your legs open with his large hands, looking at you dead in the eyes as he slowly sinks down on his knees and you could help but to stare at him in shock.

 Kim Namjoon, the man who’s technically your boss and the man you have fantasized about for years, is getting down on his knees to pleasure you.

 "Namjoon, what are you.." He raises a single finger motioning you to be quiet and you quickly follow his command, he keeps looking at you as his hands make their way to your ass, gripping it tightly as you let out a soundless gasp.

"Don't you want it baby? I see the way you look at me" His deep voice lures you, his experience showing through on how easily he got you longing for more, his eyes leave yours as he starts kissing up from your knee to your inner thigh, giving you  goosebumps all over "Your pretty eyes light up whenever you see me, it drives me crazy, I can’t hold myself back any longer" He's the one that’s driving you crazy, touching you in ways no one ever has, making you feel desired, willing to give you all the pleasure you can take "Let me do this beautiful, let me taste that pretty pussy of yours" His crude words make you moan as his mouth gets closer to your cunt, you can't this anymore, you need him, as his hands start to grip your underwear, you softly grip his hair and make him look up at you, the sight of him is sinful, messy hair, his dragon eyes filled with lust and his beautiful lips are swollen after the kiss you shared, you need him so bad, you cradled his face in your hands as you speak.

"I just-I've never" You're so desperate for him you can't even form a proper sentence, he chuckles darkly and starts to pull at your underwear, the action making you even more anxious, and without thinking straight, you spit out the truth behind your nervousness "I'm a virgin" His antics stop and his eyes gleam with mischief, although he stopped his movements, his hands didn't move from their position.

"Do you want me to stop then? I would understand if you wanted to, but…" He takes a deep breath while he buries his face onto your inner thigh, you run your fingers through his hair before he speaks again "I really want to eat you out" Namjoon's word send a wave of shivers down your spine and while you’re scared shitless, you don't really feel like it's the right decision to deny a men like him the opportunity to pleasure a little nobody like yourself.

"I want that too" You whisper loud enough for him to hear and the dimples that appeared after you said that made you think that it was completely worth it to ignore your fears.

“I’ll be taking this off then” Namjoon’s deep voice gives you goosebumps as he pulls down your underwear, slowly dragging them down your legs until they hit your ankles, taking them off completely after that.

 You’re shaking and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

 His hands continue to brush up and down your hips, before making its way to the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly, opening your legs just a tiny bit more before starting to kiss on your inner thighs, your hands instantly reaching out to his hair, gripping it tightly at the roots, Namjoon lets out a deep groan that makes you shiver, his touch becomes rougher after your antics, bruising the inside of your thighs as his tongue lapped on your clit, you couldn’t recognize the sound that came out of your mouth, you’re moans becoming louder as his lips latch onto your clit, you can feel his fingers starting to tease your entrance, collecting your slick before pushing a single finger inside, he continues to make out with your cunt before easing a second finger inside you, and your brain stops working as soon as he easily finds your sensitive spot, pushing his fingers in and out quickly, making your eyes closing harshly and your thighs trap him as you let out a scream before coming on his tongue, your legs shaking as he greedily laps your orgasm, he doesn’t stop until you whimper in pain and pull at his hair trying to separate his mouth from you, Namjoon looks sinful with his lips glistening with your slick, you can’t help but moan as you look at him, his hands make their way to your neck and he harshly pulls you into a kiss, it’s so messy and you’re loving it, your small hands caress his back and after a while Namjoon ends the kiss while brushing your hair with his fingers, looking into your eyes before smiling.

 “You’re such a good girl baby, cumming into my tongue like that” His words make you blush, you’re face gets warmer and he laughs at your reaction “Don’t be shy now baby, not after you screamed my name like that” You hide your face into his chest from the embarrassment, and Namjoon continues to laugh as he embraces you in a tight hug.

This only last for a couple of minutes before he turns his head towards you, his mouth being dangerously close to your ear before whispering; “You know, good girls also return the favor” His words make you gulp and you know that it’s only fair what he’s asking for, hell, if it was any other man, he probably would’ve expected you to get on your knees without giving anything in return, and besides, you’re truly wondering how does Kim Namjoon taste like.

“I’ve never done it before” The deep groan that leaves his lips makes you tremble; he gives you a small kiss before smiling down at you.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll be guiding you ok?” You nod before standing up while holding hands with him, Namjoon takes a step back before sitting down on his chair and the look on his face makes your legs feel like jelly, with a low, deep voice, he commands “Get on your knees for me baby.”

Taking a step forward so your body fits inside his open legs, you slowly sink down onto your knees, Namjoon lazily motions at his crotch before saying “Go on then, pull my cock out.”

 Your nerves make your hands shake as you reach for his belt, unbuckling him with minimal effort was well as unbuttoning his pants with ease, Namjoon seems desperate with the way he’s helping you by dragging his pants mid down his thighs, his hard cock hitting his lower stomach, making your mouth water at the sinful sight, Namjoon smiles at your reaction “Take it with your hands baby, c’mon” your small hand reaches out to touch him and Namjoon lets out a hiss before adding; “Suck on my tip baby”.

 Gradually, with Namjoon’s help you soon started to set a slow peace, making him lose his mind at the sight.

 Your pretty young self on your knees, mouth full of his cock, gagging all over him making him go feral, he doesn't know why he's losing his mind this bad, truthfully, this isn't the best blowjob he's ever had, but it's the fact that it's your first time doing this, making him the only men who's ever gotten to see you like this makes his hips buckle into your mouth making you gag even louder, and he can't help but to let out a deep groan while gripping your hair even tighter. He must completely ruin you now, he needs to mark you so that every man knows who’s doing this to you, that you did everything you could to please him and him only, that you belong to him, forever.

 Your lazy blowjob only last for a couple more minutes before Namjoon decides he’s had enough, with a single pull of your hair, he forces you to separate your mouth from his cock, a trail of saliva connecting you to his tip, Namjoon has never seen something so hot in his life.

 You look up to him expectantly, and you can only let a small yelp after his strong arms push you up until your standing onto your shaky legs.

 He roughly bends you over his mixing table, his equipment making you feel slightly uncomfortable giving the position he had chosen but you stay put, not wanting to disappoint him, he coos at you for being so obedient and quietly apologizes is he has hurt you, you appreciate his concern and decide to wiggle your hips at him in anticipation, Namjoon laughs and spanks your ass, making you squeal and jump at the unexpected action, you feel him leaving his position behind you, you try to look for him without leaving the position he has put you in and you find him looking through one of his drawers, he's probably looking for a condom, you thought, and your suspicions turn to be correct, the platinum package shining under his studio lights, you can feel the anticipation running through your veins, you're about to have sex for the first time with none other than Kim Namjoon, you were one lucky bitch.

 While you feel excited, you're also anxious, what if he's not satisfied with what you have to offer? How can you compete with the types of women that have been like this with him? What if you're not enough for him?

 You're panicking and Namjoon only notices after taking a condom out of the box, he walks up at you and quickly wraps his arms around your waist and begins to shush you after your breathing starts to rapidly increase.

 "Relax baby, I'm not doing anything you don't want me to" He whispers into your hair and then gives you several pecks, his actions relaxing you only briefly before you start panicking again.

"I just… What if you don't like me afterwards?" You whisper pitifully while a single tear rolls down your cheek, Namjoon holds you even tighter after that.

"Oh baby, I feel like it's the opposite" His arms lift you enough so that he can kiss your cheek, helping you clear your negative headspace for a bit "I don't think having you just once it's going to be enough for me" You turn your head to look at him just to find him already staring at you, with one look you could tell that he means what he said, and that it's what makes you give in, you nod your head a couple of times and bend over the mixing table again, taking a deep breath and clutching at the border of his keyboard, you gain the courage to ask for what you want.

"Take me Namjoon, I want to be yours" You try to sound as sensual as you can but you don't think it worked giving how much your voice was trembling, but Namjoon savored each word that you just said, silly girl, of course you'll do anything to please him, and now that he knows he's going to be the first man to claim you, he's sure now that he won't let any other man taint you the same way he's going to.

 Coating his fingers with the remains of your previous orgasm, he starts by stretching you by inserting a single finger inside, your walls almost instantly gripping his finger tight  as you let out a loud moan, look at yourself, being such a good whore for him, he's going to reward you for being so good for him but right now the only thing on his mind is fucking you, so he quickly sets up his peace and starts to finger you, adding another finger inside and having his palm rub directly onto your clit, knowing that with your inexperience, this would probably be enough for you to cum once more.

 You couldn't even try to hold in your screams, everything felt like it was too much but also felt like it wasn't enough, you couldn't understand if you needed him to stop or to go even faster, his long fingers pumping into you and reaching all the right places, making you moan and close your eyes in pleasure, at this point you didn't even know your own name, the only thing you knew is that when he plugged a third finger inside of you, you were not going to last any longer.

 "Oh god! Namjoon, please-I, please" You couldn't even form a sentence, you wanted to tell him how desperate you were to cum, yet words came out of your mouth like a bunch of gibberish, you reach out to grip his arm and Namjoon was thrilled watching you struggle, the effect he has on you it's almost comical to him.

"It's alright baby, I know what you're trying to say," His other hand reaches out to roughly grab onto your breast and you're right there, needing that extra push to finally let go, and his next words are the push that make you climax "Cum on my fingers like the good girl I know you are".

 You felt like your soul left your body, if the first orgasm felt good, this one was heavenly, waves of pleasure rolling through your body in ways you couldn't describe, Namjoon stops his ministration but doesn't pull his fingers out, relishing how your release is coating his fingers as you're panting for air, he delivers a series of kisses into the back of your neck and lets you take several breaths before letting go of your body for a brief moment, you're about to ask him why he's pulling away but then you hear the sound of his pants drop into the floor, he rubs your lower back as he reaches for the condom, you look over your shoulder to find him ripping the package open and when noticing you having your eyes on him, he smirks as he rolls up the condom onto his length, you gulp as you're reminded that everything about Namjoon is huge, he doesn't take his eyes off of you as he finally positions himself behind you and rubs your hips as a form of reassurance, you smile at him and try to lift your hips a bit more, slightly rubbing your cunt against his cock, Namjoon hisses and spanks your ass after that, you let out whimper and his hands grip onto your hips.

 "Dirty girl, I'm trying to be nice to you and here you are, rubbing yourself all over me” His hand rubs your ass as he drags his cock up and down your opening, teasing you as he barely pushes in before backing out, repeating the action until he finally pushes in, filling you to the hilt, you whimper at the unfamiliar feeling and Namjoon shushes you at the sound “Sorry baby, does it hurt too much?” His voice flatters and you think he’s also having a tough time by containing himself like this, his struggle making you feel better.

“Doesn’t hurt, just feels weird” You weren’t lying, while Namjoon was on the bigger side, you were also wet enough and stretched for him, you only needed a couple of minutes before saying “You can move now.”

 It only took him a moment before grabbing your hips tightly and started to rapidly thrust into you, his actions making you grip the table for dear life as his movements quickly became all too much, with each snap of his hips, your body sunk into too a much deeper pleasure, your breast starting to bounce at the same time his hips slammed into your ass, you couldn’t control the screams that left your mouth with all the pleasure you were experiencing now.

 “Namjoon, fuck-baby” You don’t even understand what you’re saying, especially as Namjoon’s hands leave your hips as one of them reaches out for your throat and the other one reaches out for your clit, his fingers making fast circular motions that make you grip on his wrist, you have no force left to stop him from overstimulating you, you’re forced to take everything he gives you.

“It’s alright my love, cum for me, cum on my cock like the dirty slut you are” His degrading words only make you wetter, your legs shake and your body spams uncontrollably as you cum, your tight walls making it impossible to Namjoon to hold his own orgasm in, he comes hard clutches you tightly into his arms, slowly thrusting into you until his cock turns soft, only then he pulls out from you.

He looks down only to be greeted by the sight of your wet cunt, both of your thighs covered in a deep crimson shade, Namjoon chuckles darkly at this, he takes out the condom and discards it into the trash can before taking you in his arms, bringing you to lay down on his large dark sofa with him, you’re too far gone to notice his sinister smile as he looks into the top right corner of his studio, where the faint sight of a red blinking dot can be seen only for those who look for it, and Namjoon knew exactly where to look.

 He was after all, the person that set it right there.

The first time you stepped into the Bangtan building, you expected to be stared at, nobody knew who you were and being a stranger to them you couldn’t expect them to not be curious about you, plus, the stares started decreasing after they found out who you were and why you were there all of the sudden, but right now, the back of your head was burning with the amount of people looking shamelessly at you, and it wasn’t just the fact they were all staring, it was the fact that their looks were full of hatred, they were looking down at you and you don’t have a single clue of why would they do that, you’ve never been mean to any of the staff, you start to overthink in the middle of the hallway before you realize the reason why they could be staring, shit, do they know what happened last night between you and Namjoon? No, you quickly say to yourself, that’s impossible, no one else was in the floor when you and Namjoon got out of the studio until late hours of the night, he took you to his house, where you repeated what you did in his studio all over again in the late night, and in the early morning as well, but there still isn’t an explanation on why everyone had suddenly turned on you like this.

 For the last month, walking into Namjoon’s studio always felt like you were coming into the place you belonged, a safe space where you could be free and be yourself around him, but today, it felt like you were walking into your death sentence, you didn’t want to believe everyone found out because of last night, that couldn’t be true, right? Maybe Namjoon told Sohee that you were together now, and she probably spread the word around the label, right? Namjoon would never betray your trust like this, right?

 Wrong.

 You don’t find Namjoon in his studio, instead, you find a laptop on top of his mixing table, the screen is turned off but the sound it’s making and the turn on button being lit up tells you that it’s on, you take a seat in your usual chair but the sticky note over the screen makes you want to snoop in a little bit.

 “Here you go Hyung, and don’t worry about anything, it looks and sounds amazing ;)” What could it be? Namjoon didn’t say anything about working on anything else besides your EP, and he also said he wasn’t compromised with any projects right now, so you doubted this was about work, what could this be?, the curiosity got the best of you, so you move your fingers around the touchpad until the screen lit up.

 You didn’t want to look into his stuff without permission, but you were so curious about what this could be. The screen showed a video player with no thumb nail on it, so you pressed play and waited for the video to show.

 How badly you wish you didn’t do it.

The first thing you hear is a moan, your moan, it’s loud and it’s filthy, your eyes fill with tears as you realize what’s going on.

 It’s a video from last night, and not only does the video show everything that happened last night, but your face is also very visible, the quality doesn’t let it up to speculation.

 Namjoon recorded you having sex with him, and he made sure your face was visible on the entire video.

 You’re too horrified watching the video play to notice the presence of that man behind you, you only notice after him getting close enough to catch his shadow onto the screen.

 “Namjoon, what is this?” You could barely speak, air seemed to abandon your lungs after what you just watched, the most vulnerable and intimate moment in your life, captured on video like it meant nothing. You turn around to face him while Namjoon keeps a neutral expression despite your distress, the man you’ve come to know, and love was nowhere to be found, in his place was this mean and coldhearted man who doesn’t seem to realize how much he’s hurting you.

“What do you mean darling?” You don’t even realize you’re standing up and he’s in front of you now, his tone being so condescending that it makes you feel disgusted, he traps you into his arms and forced you to look at him in the eyes by harshly gripping your chin up, his mocking smirk breaking your heart when you realize that he doesn’t want to comfort you like he has done so many times before, right now, Namjoon is making fun of you “Don’t you like it? Because personally I loved it, it really captured how well you took me last night, how you were a good little slut just for me” A heart wrenching sob left your mouth and Namjoon tsk at you while shaking his head, his evil smirk doesn’t leave his face for a second “What’s the matter baby? You don’t like me calling you a slut? You didn’t seem to mind that nickname last night” He has the audacity to laugh at you and instinctively you begin to weakly try to break free from his hold, tears streaming down your face.

“How could you do this to me?! Fuck you!” Each time you try to get out of Namjoon’s tight hold and run as far as you could from him, his grip only became tighter, so tight that it started to hurt, you let out a pained whimper, but Namjoon didn’t seem to care at all, gripping your chin even harsher this time.

“And where do you think you’re going baby, huh?” You can’t stand his fucking tone anymore, you need to get out of here, now.

“You won’t get away with this, I’m going to tell everyone what you did!” You try to stay firm, but every time Namjoon laughs you seem to get smaller and smaller, his mocking tone making you feel dumb.

“Yeah baby? What exactly are you going to say?” He spins you so that you’re facing his laptop and keeps a tight grip on your waist with one hand as he presses play once more with his other hand, the lewd sounds from last night echoing his studio, making a new set of tears appear into your eyes, you closed your eyes while shaking your head, Namjoon grips you by the hair while forcing you to watch the awful video, you whimper as you are forced to relive what you thought was an intimate moment and  you’re horrified realizing it’s anything but that. “You look pretty willing to me, in fact, if we go back to it you can even hear you begging for me” Another sob leaves your lips and Namjoon kisses your cheek after hearing your distress “Aw, don’t cry sweetheart, it’s not like you think, this wasn’t meant to hurt you” He tries to wipe your tears off but you swat his hand before it comes close to your face “Why are you so mad at this? I thought you would like it” You're in a daze right now, and his words only make you feel more confused. How could he think that you will like this? He invaded your privacy and betrayed your trust by unknowingly filming you in the most intimate moment of your life, Namjoon seems to sense your confusion and lets out a small cooing noise.

“Oh baby, you really don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, don’t you? I had to make sure you didn’t chicken out on me, I can’t let you go that easy, not after waiting too long to have you” His words only confuse you even more and you’re left with more questions than with answers.

“How could you possibly met me before this?” Your voice was barely audible at this point, but you know he heard you just fine, your throat closing up even more when he laughs while not breaking eye contact, before all this mess, Namjoon’s presence was already intimidating, but right now is downright terrifying, you can feel your legs giving out when he comes closer to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, more tears rolling down your cheeks as he begins to speak again.

“Oh darling, you’ve always been so eager, so gullible” The confusion your feeling must be visible to him because he lets a small tsk whilst grabbing a small strand of your bangs to push it behind your ear, his playful tone doesn’t leave his voice.

“It was a mere casualty really, Hoseok asked me to come to the main Bangtan building after one of his rehearsals, but on my way to his practice room, I saw a group of trainees in the smallest dancing studio in the building, dancing to the same part of a song over and over again, most of them messing up every time, except for one” Your entire body freezes and you feel like you might collapse at any moment, this can’t be happening, this isn’t the way things should be going now “I knew from the moment I saw you were going to be a star, and when I started to find out more about you, let me just say I was delighted with what I learned” You need to run, you have to get out of here, but before you can even make a run for it, Namjoon holds you tightly into his arms before he says “I don’t think that’s a good idea baby, you don’t this video to end up in the wrong hands, do you?” Your eyes widen up in fear at the mere though and Namjoon has the audacity to laugh at this “My career will remain intact after this, it might even become good publicity for me, but yours? Oh darling, this will be your downfall, a trainee fucking her producer to assure her success, that’s just low” You violently shake your head at his words.

“That’s not true! That’s not what happened, and you know that!” You’re yelling but no matter how loud you yell, it doesn’t seem like he can hear you, he only brushes you off with an uninterested look.

“I know that darling, but other people don’t, I know you’re a hard working girl who’s fought to be in this position, but they won’t see it that way, if their looking at you like scum now just thinking that we might be dating, imagine how they’ll treat you when they found out you let me fuck you so easily” You can’t control the heartbreaking sob that comes out of your mouth, and Namjoon coos at your pathetic attempt to make him feel guilty, pushing your head into his chest as he embraces you in a hug “Oh but don’t cry baby, I won’t let that happen to you, your my little superstar aren’t you? As long as you stay with me, I’ll make all your dreams come true” His loving and caring tone doesn’t give you butterflies in your stomach anymore, it only makes you feel like you want to puke, and although his actions say otherwise, you’re left with the only option you have left: you believe him, what else can you do after all? No matter what you do, every choice will make you lose, but one will make you lose everything you’ve worked hard for, while the other will make you lose your dignity, and frankly, you don’t know which one is worst.

 Namjoon continues to hug you, his hold feels like poison now, who you once considered the man of your dreams has become your biggest nightmare in the blink of an eye and there’s nothing you can do to get away from him now, he kisses you harshly, your tears coming in the way but he seems to be great at ignoring them, and as he deepens out the kiss, there’s only one thought that bitterly crosses through your mind.

 You should’ve listened to your mother when you had the chance.

[followthechick]

Random headcanons on the Weston boys

Okay since Weston anime is out, I’ll be sharing some headcanons I’ve collected during 10+ years of being obsessed with this saga and its characters.

I’ve been so invested into these headcanons that I consider them to be canon at this point. Anyway please don’t be mad if they don’t match your personal headcanon, it’s still my own interpretation and silly ideas about characters that don’t belong to me so anyone can disagree.

First I’m gonna write down the ones that involve more than one character, then I’ll be more specific and list them by character.

Brace yourselves for a pile of totally self-indulging blabbering.

Lawrence and Edgar are canonically childhood friends (Yana confirmed it), I like to think they grew up together thanks to their mothers being best friends with each other.

While Lawrence and Edgar already knew each other since birth, they met Herman and Gregory during their first year at Weston.

Because of the rivalry, friendship between students from different dorms has always been rather frowned upon, so the boys decided to put all their efforts in becoming the best students of their respective dorm to one day become Prefects and be free to meet and be friends without being judged by other students.

To freely chat and keep in contact prior to becoming P4, they secretly exchanged letters hidden among the library’s textbooks.

While we know Lawrence has 7 sisters, Edgar and Herman don’t have any sibling, while Gregory has an older brother. He’s doesn’t talk about him often as they’re not very close and don’t get along well.

Gregory met Cheslock while he was at his 3rd year (Cheslock is one year younger). They often spent their free time in their dorm’s common room, Cheslock would practice violin and Gregory would silently sit near him while drawing. One day he made a portrait of Cheslock and left it near him as a gift with the encouraging inscription “Keep playing”. The next day Cheslock asked him if he had any request for him on what to play, and that’s how they started talking to each other.

Headcanons by single character

Edgar:

His zodiacal sign is sagittarius

He has a sweet tooth and would live on sweet food alone

His maternal grandmother is french

His noble title comes from his mother, who is a Viscountess and older sister to Viscount of Druitt

He’s either pan or gay

Lawrence:

His zodiacal sign is capricorn

He’s ambidextrous (he usually writes with his right hand but is more comfortable doing other activities with his left one)

His sisters’ names are: Isabel (6 years older than him), Deborah (4 years older than him), Madelyn (2 years older than him), Adela (the only one to have a canonical name, 5 years younger than him), Rebecca (the one who has a crush on Edgar, 7 years younger than him), Rosalind and Amelia (identical twins, 9 years younger than him)

His father is a banker

Pretty sure he’s either ace or gay

Herman:

His zodiacal sign is libra (though I feel like aries might suit him better)

He took after his mother the most

He’s notoriously good at many sports, but he’s not very good at dancing (he’s not graceful enough for that kind of activity)

He’s good at cooking

He’s either a straight ally or a disaster bi

Gregory:

His zodiacal sign is cancer (mayhap also aquarius could suit him tho)

He used to wear charcoal and inks as make-up in his early years at Weston

His father is a politician

He’s kind of a picky eater and doesn’t like meat and seafood

He’s 100000% ace-spec

Cheslock:

His zodiacal sign is scorpio

His iconic “scar” is actually make-up, though beneath it he does have a smaller scar on his left eyelid, which is the result of a quarrel with his sister when they were kids

His father is a surgeon

His full name is Victor Theodore, which he hates

Pretty sure he’s bi

I might add more in the future, though I don’t have many headcanons for other characters but who knows.

Also I’m up for asks to chit chat about what I’ve shared, or for other headcanons o/

[bachissidehoe]

shut the door - bachira m.

chapter 2 of 7 of the blue lock band series. chapter 1. chapter 3. chapter 4. chapter 5. chapter 6. chapter 7.

synopsis: it doesn't take long in her time working as Blue Lock's journalist for y/n to have to face the fact that she's not the only one isagi wants. and if he can have more than just her, she can have more than just him.

warnings: smut; penetration; oral giving; oral receiving; squirting; praise; pet kink; tears; hair pulling; hickeys; fem reader minors DNI

disclaimer: all songs referenced are credited to THE DEEP END

w.c. 3.2k

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah, obviously. I did some research, and you have a degree in journalism and another one in advertising. I’ll pay you double what you make now.” Mikage explains, turning his clipboard around to show her the salary he’s offering her.

“And you want me to just drop everything and tour with you?” She stares at the large number with wide eyes. It’s a tempting offer, and an extremely tempting salary.

“Um, yeah.” 

“Mikage-”

“Call me Reo.” He interrupts. “Mikage’s my father.” He winks.

“Okay, R-reo. I just, I want to but- I have an apartment and a car and a job…” She trails off.

“Any kids?” 

“Huh? No?”

“Pets?” He asks.

“No.”

“Okay, then I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll pay your lease while you’re on tour, I’ll send some people in to clean for you, clear out your refrigerator, grab all your clothes, I’ll send a letter to your current job, whatever you need.” He says with a smile. He really is making an offer she can’t refuse. “So whaddya say?” 

She pauses briefly, but they both know her answer. “Okay. I’m in.” 

And it’s been two weeks now, two weeks of being Blue Lock’s professional journalist. Reo explained that though the band blew up quickly, information about them is only circulating in one small genre of individuals, and their network is not expanding. Having a journalist to publish interviews with them, write articles about their shows, generate social media campaigns, it’ll all be much more effective if it’s someone who already knows the band pretty well. So far it’s been working tremendously, they’ve been booked for interviews with magazines and television programs worldwide, their singles are being advertised by other famous bands, and a second song of theirs, “Shut The Door”, went viral on TikTok. 

This also means it’s been two weeks now of fucking- or rather being fucked by- Isagi Yoichi. It’s not like Reo doesn’t know of it, they all know. But Reo’s philosophy is this: if she’s fucking the band, she’ll have emotional ties to them, which will come out in her writing and advertising for them. Of course, the extent of their relationship will be kept out of the public eye, but other than that, the band manager sees this only as a good thing. 

It’s what he tells her as they stand off to the side of the stage, watching the boys soundcheck for their final show of a three-day stretch. They’re exhausted by now, but at least after this they get a two day break. 

“So you’re telling me you’re less than concerned with the public finding out that our lead singer is fucking our journalist?” The stage director Bachira Meguru, who y/n has also grown close with over the past two weeks, adds his two-sense. 

“If it gets our name out there, I couldn’t care less who any of us is fucking.” Reo says matter-of-factly, spoken like a true businessman. 

“You talk about me fucking Isagi like it’s nothing.” Y/n chuckles nervously, her eyes darting between Reo and Bachira. 

“Sweetheart,” Bachira smiles, a demon-like smile that might portray a hint of psychosis. “You think you’re the only one Isagi’s fucking?” 

The words hit like a blade through her chest. “I- well- b-wha-” 

Reo sighs. “I’m sorry, y/n, I know I can be harsh with what I expect of you, I’m just trying to say that I’m doing the best I can think to do for the future of the band. I don’t want to put your emotions at risk, but I also want you to be able to separate them from your job.” 

“I, yeah, I understand. I am.” She nods profusely, her unconvincing sentence prompting a shared look between the two backstage band members. 

She can’t help but worry about Bachira’s comment, she worries about it throughout their entire concert. She watches backstage as the loud music blares through the speakers, Isagi’s voice striking down on the crowd like magic, Nagi and Chigiri’s background vocals adding shimmer to the air around them. 

She decides not to bring it up to Bachira again, it’s not like he’s been very good at hiding his obvious attraction for her since she got here, so he’s probably just jealous. But it doesn’t matter what she tells herself, she just can’t shake it. Does Isagi really not like her? Is he really just fucking her? It’s not like she expected they’d be in a relationship or anything, but maybe he would have told her if he was hooking up with other girls. 

“Something on your mind, beautiful?” Bachira catches her alone in the hallway, taking a breather after they finished their show. 

“Hm? Bachira- oh-” She chuckles nervously. 

“You seem to not like when I flirt much.” He laughs. 

“No, um, it’s just that, you know-” She struggles.

“It’s Isagi, hm?” He reads her, not that it would be difficult to piece it together. 

She doesn’t respond, but he’s right of course. In fact, the way that all of the band members look at her is arousing, like they’re all just waiting for their turn. She hasn’t brought it up to Isagi, even though he’d probably be able to get them to stop. But the truth is, she likes it. She loves that kind of attention from them, she loves how flirty they all are, she loves knowing that she could have any one of them. And Bachira- perhaps the most forward of the seven of them- y/n didn’t expect to find him so damn attractive. 

He likes to touch her- whether it’s casually putting his arm around her, or coming up behind her and squeezing her shoulders, or moving a piece of hair out of her eyes. And every single time it’s like a spark is ignited in her body. Every little touch, every playful comment, it flips a switch inside her. She finds herself watching him a lot of the time, watching him direct the tech services workers on where to place equipment, watching him assign the band members to their stage positions, and watching him work with the sound engineers to equalize the four sets of vocals. Everything Bachira Meguru does, he does it with that little demon smile, the same one he’s giving her now. 

“You don’t have to tell me, I know it’s about Isagi. You’re upset because he never told you you’re not exclusive, am I right?” He asks, leaning against the wall next to her. 

“We have yet to have that conversation.” Y/n bites the inside of her cheek, trying to avoid looking into those enthralling golden eyes. 

“Look, y/n, I’ve known Yoichi since we were 16 years old. I know how he is- all sweet on the outside and a menace on the inside. I love him to death, but someone’s gotta tell you what’s really going on- or you’ll get attached.” He sighs. 

Y/n doesn’t say anything, just looks around, hoping his words don’t make her start suddenly crying. It’s not like she expected to date Isagi, but it’s also true that her feelings for him haven’t exactly lessened since their arrangement. 

“Just come with me.” He continues, grabbing her hand. 

Y/n hasn’t spent every single night with Isagi, not even half the nights. Since starting her job, she’s had a lot less time to hang out with him alone, but when they get a moment, Isagi’s been all over her. It really didn’t feel to her like he’d be actively wanting anyone else. But as Bachira directs her behind the door of one of the backstage dressing rooms, it becomes clear to y/n that she’s been dead wrong. 

They can only catch a bit of the conversation, but Isagi stands with two extremely attractive women, discussing how they can sneak off somewhere, how they can meet him in his hotel room later, how they should come to the bar with him. Y/n can’t help but feel a lump in her throat as Bachira pulls her away from the saddening scene. 

“I’m sorry y/n, you just needed to see what’s really going on.” Bachira apologizes. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Are you gonna talk to him?” He asks.

“Why would I talk to him?” She chuckles, feeling her sadness turning into an anger that burns in her chest. He could have at least talked to her about it. “If he can fuck who he wants so can I. I need to stop chasing his approval.” 

“Atta girl, plenty of guys would kill to fuck you.” He flashes her a flirty smile. 

Maybe it’s not the best decision, but right now, the only thing y/n wants is to stick it to Isagi. Show him that she doesn’t need him as anything more than a casual friend with benefits, maybe even just a colleague. Show him it doesn’t bother her at all that he’s fucking other girls behind her back. And what better way to stick it to Isagi, than to fuck his best friend?

“You included?” She asks, rocking forward onto the balls of her feet.

“I may as well be the president of the guys who’d kill to fuck you, if I’m honest.” He flirts. 

“Good, let’s go.” She grabs his wrist, pulling him in the direction they came from. 

“Where are we going?” Bachira giggles.

“I dunno, don’t laugh at me.” She replies, determined.

“Okay, let me lead the way then.” He takes control, his touch putting her under his spell. 

It’s easy to fall into his grip, he can get in her head so easily. She hardly remembers getting back to his hotel room, by the time she snaps back to reality, she’s being led through the door and swiftly spun around. 

“Shut the door.” He says with a smirk, pushing her back against the door as it closes. “Keep me from the things that I don’t know~” He hums the lyrics of the song he referenced, his voice muffled every time he places wet kisses to her neck. 

“I need it, Bachira.” She whines, confidently wrapping her arms around him, her movements begging for him to keep going, to keep leaving sharp kisses on her skin. She can only hope he’ll bruise her, wanting everyone to see that she’s not Isagi’s pet- she can do whatever she wants. And right now, she wants the gorgeous stage director who’s teeth graze her skin and who’s tongue sloppily traces over the marks he leaves. 

‘You need it.” He huffs. “Desperate kitty.” 

“K-huh?” She feels her knees grow weaker at the pet name he chooses. Maybe she’s not Isagi’s pet, but it certainly seems like she’s become Bachira’s. 

“So obedient for me, yet somehow still so cold. My little kitty.” He breathes against her neck, the pads of his fingers reaching her thigh. “Jump.” He says, holding onto her thighs as he presses her back harder into the door, holding her above his head. 

And he kisses her, a much smoother, more calculated kiss than Isagi’s. His careful movements are somewhat contradictory to his eccentric personality, but the fact that he continues to make unexpected decisions is still right on brand. It’s like she’s in another world, Bachira Meguru’s world. His plump lips overpower hers in such a beautiful way, sucking her bottom lip between them like she’s a mere piece of candy for him to snack on. 

“Sweet lil pretty thing~” He hums, breaking their kiss for only a moment before joining their lips together again, trapping her bottom lip between his teeth once more. This time, he bites down, just enough to force a surprised wince from the depths of her throat. And he chuckles, that same unreadable demonic chuckle. 

“Don’t even wanna take y’to the bed kitty, wanna fuck y’against this door.” He murmurs, blocking any chance of her responding by shoving his tongue deep into her mouth, his fingernails digging deep into her thighs as he continues to hold her up. She doesn’t know how he intends to fuck her like this, she’s surprised he’s even still holding her up. 

He quickly proves her concerns futile, as he uses only his upper body to keep her pressed into the door as one of his hands slips inside his pants, and the other slips under her skirt and panties. His hard cock pokes out from the top of his sweatpants as he grunts, finally pushing his sweatpants down enough to entirely expose himself to her. 

Her breaths get heavier as he pushes her panties to the side, not even showing her the decency to take them off first. 

“There y’go.” He holds his cock up with one hand, her legs wrapped tightly around him as she takes his lead, lowering her body slowly onto his tip. “That’s it kitty, there y’go, push it all the way in- ah yes~ like that~” He gasps, feeling her fully sheathe herself onto him, her legs already shaking as she tries to keep up with the unfamiliar position. 

“That’s a good girl~” He grunts, holding her body against the door as he fucks up into her, thrusting into parts of her only this position could reach, parts that turn her into putty in his hands. “Be a good little kitty.” His voice is hoarse, his eyes dark as he slams into her soaked cunt, her wetness dripping down his shaft. 

Her muscles are sore as she holds herself up around him, but she fucking loves it. She loves being fucked like a pet with no control over her own body. He’s so strong, and hot, and fuck. His cock feels so damn good inside her, forcing her pussy to clench around him repeatedly, practically begging for him to stay inside her forever. 

It’s likely anyone walking by the hotel room is welcomed with the sounds of the door slamming over and over, but Bachira doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he loves being loud. He hopes everyone hears. “Ah~ that’s it, such a tight little pussy f’me, hm? Isagi wasn’t enough to stretch you out? Guess not~” 

Her hands find his hair, gripping on his blonde highlights with a strength she didn’t know she had, biting on her own bottom lip to prevent her from screaming aloud, instead limiting herself to quieted whimpers and light moans. “Meguru~” His first name tickles her tongue like it’s a curse, like she shouldn’t be allowed to say it, like he shouldn’t be allowed to be making her feel this way. 

With a few more harsh thrusts that y/n is surprised didn’t split her body in half, his grip loosens, and he quickly grabs her hips as he practically drops her on her knees below him. 

“Open. G’na cum in that pretty little mouth~” He breathes in, squeezing his cock with one hand as his other makes its way into her hair, roughly positioning her head in front of him. “Look at you, a mess f’me kitty.” He slurs, tauntingly tracing over her soft cheek as her mouth falls open for him. 

He slides his pink tip between her lips, letting her clamp them down around him as she laps at his leaking hole with her tongue. And he pushes it in further, holding her head in place so she can’t pull away as he challenges her abilities. Y/n was confident, but she’s never sucked a dick this big. Before he’s even half way, her eyes are brimming with tears.

“Y’can take it y/n, pretty kitty, I know y’can take it.” His voice is tight as he manages quick, fast breaths. The sight of her is immaculate. The girl Isagi Yoichi thought he had tied down, with her mascara streaming down her face as his cock is buried in her throat, her dazed eyes peering up at him. And he’s gonna make a mess of her. 

“Hmm~” She hums, doing her best to hollow her throat to fit more of him.

He twitches, thrusting into her dirty mouth with his grip tightened around her hair, forcing it down her throat regardless of whether she can take it or not. 

“That’s good~ mhm~ g’na cum~” He hums, nearly bottoming out before shooting his thick load directly into the back of her throat. 

She swallows quickly, doing everything she can to take every single drop of what he gives her. His grip loosens on her hair as he slides his cock out from between her lips, finally letting her take in a deep breath. 

“S’ry a little rough kitty? My bad, pretty girl~” He grabs her hips, pulling her to her shaky feet. “Such a good job swallowing f’me huh, you got every last drop.” 

“Mhm.” She nods, trying to regain her composure.

“I’ll make it up to you, pretty. Lay down.” He pulls her toward the unused hotel bed, watching her collapse backward, her legs hanging off the edge. 

“Was good, was so good.” She manages through her breathless, fucked-out state. 

Bachira chuckles. “Boutta be better, though.” He kneels on the side of the bed, hooking a finger under her panties that never managed to make it off when he fucked her, finally pulling them down her smooth legs. “Sit back and feel good now, sweetheart. Kitty deserves a reward. Good girl.” He praises, spreading her thighs apart as he presses his lips to her dripping cunt. 

He eats her like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, his tongue lapping up every bit of her he can get a taste of, fucking it into her used hole like he’s trying to clear every drop. He alternates between fucking her with his tongue and flicking her clit, licking short wet stripes across the sensitive bud of fleshy ecstasy. 

His nails loosen on her thighs, letting her clench them around his head as if he wants her to crush him. And maybe he does. 

He hums into her pussy like he’s singing it to sleep, hungrily drinking her up like it’s just as good for him as it is for her. Her body shakes around his tongue, the clit stimulation sending mini electric pulses up and down her body, forcing her brain into a fucked-out overdrive. 

“Meguru~ Ah- close~” She manages through breathy moans, the pulses firing too fast for her to keep up. It’s a different feeling than usual, a more complicated feeling, like she can’t control her body anymore. There’s something else there besides just her orgasm, but it’s too intense for her to figure it out before she releases. “C-cumming-” She stutters.

Bachira plunges his tongue inside her to catch her orgasm, surprised when she squirts around him, the liquid spilling out and soaking the sheets below her. 

“Oh fuck-” She breathes, not expecting him to make her squirt like that. She’s definitely never done that before. “S-sorry- I-”

“Mmm kitty~” He comes up for air, his eyes half lidded. “That was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

She can only nod and catch her breath as he attaches his lips to her inner thigh, bringing her down from her high by biting and sucking on her sensitive skin. 

“Bet Isagi couldn’t make you do that.” He smirks.

[junk-story]

Interview Archive 1, 12.1993 - Ongaku to Hito Special Edition

BUCK-TICK is an exceedingly rare sort of band. Although the Band Boom has ended up vanishing as if it never happened at all, in an area totally unrelated to the Boom, where no one else is drawing a crowd, is a group with a unique stance who have continued following their own path of “individuality”. Their stylish visuals have the lingering scent of decadence. Their lyrics, like “I just want to go mad”, are laden with the aesthetics of self-deprecation. And, with “strange” sounds that have absolutely no roots in Western rock, and truly catchy melodies – from any angle, they are a “Japan Original”. Furthermore, although these “nonconformists” have also continued to be a great success commercially, they are still breaking new ground. Although their eerie ambiance is often misunderstood by ordinary people, this unique sensation is something that anyone can have a share of. Sakurai Atsushi reigns with a “negative charisma”, but his absolute desire to escape and narcissism in the sense of “being lenient with oneself” can happen to anyone. I support the weakness of humanity.*

Ichikawa: How do you think BUCK-TICK are seen by ordinary people?

Sakurai: …Maybe...I suppose people who aren’t interested just aren’t interested at all. Because no matter how many times something that doesn’t interest me shows up on TV, that’s where it ends for me.

Ichikawa: Despite your CD sales, you’re passive about this.

Sakurai: Yeah, because there are people who don’t listen to music, so even if I stood face-to-face with such a person and said, “It’s me”, they’ll just be like, “And who are you?” (laughs)

Ichikawa: Conversely, what kind of people do you think listen to BUCK-TICK?

Sakurai: Hmmm...I think a lot of them are daydreamers. (laughs) Even watching the same movies, like Alain Delon1 rather than Jurassic Park. (laughs) When I read the letters I’ve received, that’s the feeling I get.

Ichikawa: What kind of letters do you get most?

Sakurai: In my case, I get everything from the heavy stuff to the light stuff. (laughs)

Ichikawa: What sort of content is in the light letters?

Sakurai: “Your stage outfit was so cool this time”. (laughs)

Ichikawa: And what about the heavy letters?

Sakurai: The heavy ones are incredible, really – like a 21 year old girl who got divorced even though she has a child, or things about their family members, or about how they’re sick. Also, there are many people who write emotional content.

Ichikawa: It’s become Kitaro’s Yokai postal service2, hasn’t it?

Sakurai: Hahaha. But, there’s nothing I’m able to give them...you know.

Ichikawa: Although this idol-like reaction is understandable, is there no “added hidden value” appearing more and more?

Sakurai: Hmmm, I wonder...although I’m making music...music isn’t necessary to living, and you won’t die without it. So I think people who aren’t interested don’t listen to music that deeply, and naturally, they don’t synchronize their listening to the situations I find myself in and my reality. So the band is getting more media exposure, which is supposed to give us more opportunities to be heard, but I wonder…

Ichikawa: But on the other hand, the Yokai Post Box has letters arriving to it frequently, right? Obviously, that’s different from just a popular song and supporting some harmless rock music.

Sakurai: But I expect that the people who are watching idols are definitely greater in number. Because they’re all the same.

Ichikawa: But BUCK-TICK are already big names, and you’ve been reigning on the front lines for 6 years. Naturally, you should be different from them. And hey, if you were part of SMAP3, that would be a problem, wouldn’t it?

Sakurai: Yeah, that would be an issue. (laughs)

Ichikawa: So for example, what do you think people come to see Sakurai Atsushi for at concerts?

Sakurai: I really don’t know...for example, I receive letters saying like, “I want to see more of your humanity4 during the MC sections”, and I think it might be better if I expressed my humanity more. Also, I think the songs I want to sing and the songs people want to hear may be different...I’m always confused.

Ichikawa: You still haven’t gotten a grip on what your stage persona is.

Sakurai: No, if I think about understanding it, it’s easy, but I think hard about it and then it confuses me. I suppose there won’t be any problem if I do everything like an entertainer with a strong sense of providing a service, but.

Ichikawa: Like, “I’m Sakuraiiiiii!”

Sakurai: Wahahahaha.

Ichikawa: What’s an example of a song people are expecting?

Sakurai: Songs like “Speed”, “Jupiter”, or “JUST ONE MORE KISS”, don’t you think?

Ichikawa: And the song you think they’ll dislike?

Sakurai: Taiyou ni Korosareta. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Aah, Sakurai’s song about the thing at the core, the “aesthetics of self-deprecation.” Well, it certainly seems like a song that was written sitting on a hill of despair.

Sakurai: Oh? (laughs) But lately, I’ve received letters saying that Taiyou ni Korosareta was good, so I’ve thought that maybe I’m not as misunderstood as I thought I was.

Ichikawa: So you ought to have more self-confidence, Sakurai.

Sakurai: I should, right. More...not to flatter myself, but I hope I can cross the line to becoming an entertainer.

Ichikawa: Well, I think it’s enough that you’re performing as this “dark entertainer”. What do you think is lacking?

Sakurai: It’s not that something’s lacking...it’s that it’s incomplete.

Ichikawa: Well, then where is something lacking?

Sakurai: Mmm...in my own head. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Oi, come on now.

Sakurai: (laughs) I think it could be anything, but, for example, when I go out in front of 2,000 people, I just don’t get that same high anymore.

Ichikawa: So even though you have this stately and dark look – you don’t even think things like, “These 2,000 people have gathered to come see me!”?

Sakurai: No, I don’t. There can be people who are looking at something else even if they’re directly in front of me. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Aren’t you being narrow-minded about this?

Sakurai: It’s caught my attention. So I stare at a single point and act like an idiot who doesn’t see that sort of reaction to me.

Ichikawa: Wow. First of all, haven’t you ever thought, “I’m popular”?

Sakurai: When they’re screaming, “kyaaaaa!” (laughs)

Ichikawa: A live venue is really a melting pot of those “kyaaa” screams; does that make you feel anxious?

Sakurai: I don’t think it’s anxiety, but...I’m always agonizing5 over if I should take myself less seriously. It’s not only people who are listening to the music and enjoying it; there are also many people enjoying another part of the performance, so I think I should do what I want, but...I’m insecure.

Ichikawa: Have you ever thought about the influence you have?

Sakurai: I have. For example, it’s easy to tell when there are kids wearing the same fashion as I am. Also...I don’t know if this is my influence or not, but...the people who like the same world that I do. They give me these detailed, maniacal (laughs) opinions on things, like, “that musical is really good”, “have you read this novel?”, “you like this type of aesthetic, right?”, “this thing you said in an interview really spoke to me”, like that.

Ichikawa: Fundamentally, is it that the recipients of your work can’t accept Sakurai Atsushi as a real person? With your charisma, it’s like you’re magnified up 5 or 10 times bigger in their minds. And those voices, their expectations are like, “Well, if it’s Sakurai-san, naturally he’ll understand my aesthetic sense.” I think it would be natural to gain some self-confidence from those voiced expectations and support.

Sakurai: It would be better not to betray that sentiment, but when it comes to my own conviction...I think if I can put out more that says, “this is how my world is”, I’ll be able to clearly have that conviction.

Ichikawa: Even with Sakurai having this internal conflict, you’re being seen by ordinary people, other than your fans6, as a so-called “rockstar” now – in your case, you must be feeling the difference of that.

Sakurai: I do. Even people who don’t know music have said, “Ah, it’s that guy” – although I had just come there to have a meal. (laughs) I’m human just the same as a salaryman that’s the same age from that area, so..while I think that about myself, I guess they’re in a position where they can’t see it.

Ichikawa: Even if you don’t want to be considered special, in the first place, rock really must be thought of as “exceptional”. Moreover, being exceptional is the biggest characteristic of BUCK-TICK. Do you not have any awareness that this means you are exceptional?

Sakurai: I’m also very aware of that. It’s both extremes. There are also times where I want to say, “Leave me alone!”, turn my nose up and walk away, but (laughs) that’s also tiring, so there’s the converse argument to be made, too, like, “I’m a human just like you, so leave me alone.”

Ichikawa: Do you think things like, for example, that you could be as self-absorbed with how exceptional you are as Ei-chan7?

Sakurai: …I really do, without everyday life.

Ichikawa: What I’m asking is, can’t you become that way?

Sakurai: I can’t~. I don’t like being interfered with, and I switch Sakurai Atsushi off in those moments. (laughs)

Ichikawa: But there’s David Bowie, who isn’t doing fan service around the clock, but at work...(laughs) As a charismatic person, you can behave as you see fit, right? Although I think you could do it if you tried, you’d always agonize between those two selves.

Sakurai: I wonder why...because I’m afraid of being caught off guard?

Ichikawa: Don’t you think you’re cool?

Sakurai: there are times when I think, “I am super cool”, but there are also times where I think, “What am I doing?!” (laughs) I’m hard on myself, maybe.

Ichikawa: But, it’s simpler8 to think of yourself as cool, isn’t it?

Sakurai, Yes, much simpler. But in order for me to think so, I have to aim for being an entertainer, and I’m no good.

Ichikawa: This orientation you have toward being an entertainer is also being taken too far, actually – it’s like chloroform you breathe in every day until you lose consciousness.

Sakurai: Wahahahaha. That’s harsh!

Ichikawa: Don’t you want to become more arrogant and charismatic?

Sakurai: I really just want to shine within music, if it’s something I’m able to do. Aah...I see...maybe...I’m rebelling against it, aren’t I. Everyone views me as a rockstar, so I wonder if maybe I simply want to betray that notion and rebel against it.

Ichikawa: Does the so-called narcissistic state, where you can think of yourself as cool, not last long? It seems like only the high of not caring what the people around you think lasts, but. (laughs)

Sakurai: It doesn’t really last, no. It’s like...I end up able to see reality. That I’m someone who can go as far as narcissism, but can’t sustain it, I can see that.

Ichikawa: But without narcissism, the fantasy of rock won’t flourish, right? You’re a man who can’t be proactive, aren’t you?

Sakurai: Yeah...but that’s quite kind, because it makes people’s dreams of it expand more and more. I don’t really seem very kind, talking selfishly about my own needs while also saying, “I won’t show you the important parts.”

Ichikawa: If you said more, would it be like, “It’s your fault for coming to love me without my permission”?

Sakurai: (laughs) I wouldn’t say their fault...more like, it’s a waste. If I could be understood even if I didn’t say anything, I’d be extremely happy, because I hate the regret I feel after babbling out an explanation. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Then, explaining yourself to an ordinary person who thinks of you as a rocker must also be miserable.

Sakurai: That’s right. But...lately, my way of thinking about it changes all the time. Sometimes I think, “I’m gonna make that guy who doesn’t know me take another look!”, and other times I think, “It’s no good! I’m tired.” (laughs)

Ichikawa: So then, as I thought, you do think you’re cool, don’t you? If you were to call out to the women on the roadside over there9, you have confidence they’d quickly follow you here, right?

Sakurai: If I wanted to do it. (laughs) But using the energy is more trouble than it’s worth. I think maybe I’m unkind in that way.

Ichikawa: Well, calling out to them isn’t really nice either. (laughs)

Sakurai: Oh. (laughs) But, I’m thinking I want to become less sentimental, colder.

Ichikawa: What’s the reason behind that?

Sakurai: Because I have a heart. Wahahahahaha.

Ichikawa: Well, regardless of some minor occurrences of it, (laughs) Sakurai Atsushi doesn’t have any arrogance, really, in the bigger picture of things.

Sakurai: But I’ve also come to understand that I could be just a bit easier on myself, too. I think I could become cooler if I did.

Ichikawa: As Sakurai, and as BUCK-TICK, too, even though you’re this deeply self-centered person who doesn’t care about the existence of other people at all10, I think gradually it becomes necessary to see yourself objectively. And you have to become aware of the influence you have.

Sakurai: Lately, I’ve been chatting with people who have the same tastes as me, and it’s interesting to see how I can come to see myself when I see those people. While I was drinking in Osaka, a person came and sat down who said, “I can see ghosts” – why, I wonder, is it always that sort of person who comes to me? (laughs) But, it turned to conversation about our newest song, “die”, and they said, “You’re definitely a narcissist”, and I was like, “Ah, right, right, I’d forgotten that, now that you mention it.” The person I show other people is a narcissist; I felt like I’d forgotten.

Ichikawa: In the end, those types of people are the ones who come together under Sakurai with peace of mind, don’t you think?

Sakurai: That’s true. I think the people who are thinking about me must be seeing me with some amazing eyes.11

Ichikawa: Give those “amazing eyes” a response, a spectacular one.

Sakurai: I think it will change during our current tour. (laughs)

Ichikawa: (laughs) With that – BUCK-TICK is a band where the members take walking alone endlessly to the extreme, right? The most of any in Japan.

Sakurai: That’s out of my control. There’s nothing I can do about that.

Ichikawa: And that’s also why you feel like you can’t effectively exert your influence, I imagine.

Sakurai: Hmmm...so, I expect that I’m afraid of cheapening what I do. I just did what I wanted to do, so. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Are you being careful with your words?

Sakurai: You could call it being careful; you could call it cowardice.

Ichikawa: Certainly, in the early years – you may have been perceived as cheap during the pop era of your music where your hair was straight up, but since then, I think conversely, you’re perceived as a luxury good.

Sakurai: Yeah, I think we aren’t perceived as cheap, but I certainly have fear of being thought of that way.

Ichikawa: That’s like an ordinary girl thinking, “Don’t become friends with that person” about a yankii in their same class.

Sakurai: (laughs) Is that so?

Ichikawa: This yankii is stubborn, but in reality, he’s facing the dilemma of wanting to be friends with anyone at all.

Sakurai: Exactly. (laughs) But, I’ve been thinking that from now on, we should harden up more, get colder, and that I hope that those who don’t care about our music don’t bother with it. I hope that those who do care it experience it whenever they get the chance, and that those who don’t, never experience it again.

Ichikawa: Well, but, you’re so cool, so wouldn’t it be better to be more free-spirited?

Sakurai: Hahaha. I’m always overthinking things like that.

Ichikawa: I wonder if that overworrying is part of your personality.

Sakurai: Hmmm...I don’t know. But I’m always thinking about how I want others to enjoy and be happy.

Ichikawa: Even so, there are a lot of ups and downs in everyday life. (laughs)

Sakurai: Hahaha. I may not be handling them so well.

Ichikawa: Well, in the end, trouble always ends up coming about.

Sakurai: And that’s why all you can do is stand your ground, right...or I’m going to act out that pretense. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Have you been acting pretentious lately?

Sakurai: Quite pretentious.

Ichikawa: Anyway, you’ve got a good face for it.

Sakurai: Yeah.

Ichikawa: Oh, an easy agreement on that from this guy.

Sakurai: Fufufufufufu.

Ichikawa: So, if you acted like you owned the place, you could powerfully establish your own world – and moreover, externally, Sakurai is already waiting for it. All that’s left is you feeling like doing it.

Sakurai: ...it’s troublesome, you know.

Ichikawa: You sure are BUCK-TICK’S frontman.

Sakurai: (laughs) I want to have an effective presence that has a detailed edge to it. More than feeling like a big, enveloping presence.

Ichikawa: Aren’t you seeking a long life full of detail?

Sakurai: No way! (laughs) But, lately I’ve realized this. Because I’m using energy on this tour. (laughs) How can I say this...it’s like more...pushing forward the next day while feeling like, “I’m losing it, aren’t I?” (laughs)

Ichikawa: You’re a man predestined to being a paradox.

Sakurai: ...Has this ended up being an unspectacular interview? (laughs)

Ichikawa: Well, even if we sang “Shimauta”12 at karaoke, we didn’t sing “die”, so. (laughs) It’s considered special, you know, definitely.

Sakurai: Even if we’re doing something special, like – I end up feeling like everything is lumped together. I feel like the people who listen to music have become cowards, too. Like the provocation is frightening to them.

Ichikawa: Even though the propagation of provocation is the theme of this band.

Sakurai: Right. And moreover, we’re trying to even out the high and low points of unevenness, and there’s a feeling of something unseen moving.

Ichikawa: When it’s that way, you can only go back to the basics and put your hair straight up again!

Sakurai: Right? Although I wasn’t aware of it during the time my hair was up, that “We are special” thing.

Ichikawa: But I think if you put it up now, you might be able to do it having that awareness.

Sakurai: Imai currently has a mohawk while having that awareness.

Ichikawa: Well then, next will it be Sakurai Atsushi with his hair up?!

Sakurai: When should I put it up...people might say, “It’s uncool!” (laughs) I really don’t want to use my energy on that sort of thing. (laughs)

~~~~~ Footnotes: * This makes more sense as you read the interview - basically, I think he's saying that he argues Sakurai ought to be more lenient with himself. 1 A French movie star. 2 A reference to a manga. Kitaro is a “sullen ghost boy” who “protects others from malicious spirits”. 3 The biggest name in Johnny’s of that time, and still one of their biggest ever. 4 Human-ness? I don’t know a better word for this in English. They want him to emote, talk more, things like that. 5 Very dramatic word choice here – literally “suffering until you faint”. 6 Who are not ordinary people, obviously, lol. 7 Eikichi Yazawa, a big Showa-era rockstar. 8 Simpler in the sense of more comfortable; less work. 9 I wonder if he was actually gesturing to someone, or if this was hypothetical. 10 I think he’s ribbing him here – calling him out on his bullshit. Sakurai is repeatedly trying to say this about himself and then contradicting it. 11 In other words, they are seeing a version of him that he doesn’t believe actually exists. 12 A 1992 song by the band “The Boom”.

~~~~~ Some final translation notes:

I don't know who put the LibreOffice suggestion on my dash, but I used that to type this up this time instead of Google docs, and it seems to have preserved the footnotes (at least on desktop.) I'll try and test this on mobile too but hopefully it's a better experience!

Also, just a basic note on "cool" in Japanese - kakkoii. It's commonly translated as "cool" but really encompasses things like being attractive, sexy, etc. in ways I think the word in English doesn't. I think its usage packs more punch when you think of it that way, as like "heart eyes, motherfucker" cool.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Burning Hearts Chapter 6

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC 

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

**this chapter contains a brief scene of adult content! minors dni!**

Burning Hearts Chapter 6: A Difficult Return

— — 

It was around 3 in the morning when Law finally pushed open the reinforced door of the Heart Pirate’s base. He made sure to close the door behind him carefully, not wanting to alert his crew to his return just yet. He was exhausted and just wanted to fall into bed without any disturbances or questions from his excitable and curious crew. 

Law slunk quietly through the halls of the base and entered his office. Without flipping the lights on, Law lazily dropped his sword and backpack on his desk before retreating to his adjoining bedroom. He strips his shirt over his head, removing his hat as well in the process before letting them flop to his bedroom floor. He unbuckles his pants and steps out of them, leaving them splayed on the floor. Normally, Law was a tidy man, but today he just wanted to face plant into his pillow. 

And face plant he did. Not even bothering to get under the covers, Law flops onto the bed and immediately passes out… 

— — 

“Hnnnhhgg! Ah!” Daisy grunted and panted below him, hips squirming and bucking while she laid there accepting his cock greedily. 

“What’s that, Princess? You feel good?” Law huffs out while continuing his assault on her most sensitive bits. 

“Aaahh! Mmhmm!” Daisy nods feverishly and arches her back in pleasure. 

“Na uh, use your words. Tell daddy how much you love his cock.” Law commands with a punishing snap of his hips. 

“S’ so good, love it s’much!” Daisy’s eyes roll back in her head, a dumb grin on her face as she relishes in the feeling of coming apart. 

“Shit- Princess you’re squeeing me so tight… fuck I’m-“

Gone.

Law snaps awake in bed, covered in sweat on top of his comforter. His chest heaves. He notices a wet feeling in his boxers. As Law looks down at his lap, he sees the wet sticky evidence of having ejaculated in his sleep. 

Law sighs and flops backwards onto the bed. Why did this keep happening? What was causing this influx of erotic dreams… and why was it always her? She was a brat. They disagreed so much that he could barely stand to be in a room with her when they weren’t training… so why did she keep finding him in his dreams?

“Shit…” Law groans and rubs his tired eyes. Suddenly, his brow furrowed. “Why would I say that?”

Law cringes at the way he acted in his dream. Daddy? Princess? Who the hell did he think he was? He would never treat someone like that. Not like he’s ever had the opportunity to anyway…

Shaking himself from the dream, Law decides a cold shower would help him clear his head. He throws on some clothes to make his way to the bathroom. He steps into his office and makes his way to the door… but something catches his eye. A large green plant was next to his desk in a painted white pot with black spots. 

This wasn’t his. Someone had been in his office while he was gone. He had left all his letters and private papers from the Marines out on his desk, trusting his crew to follow the instructions to not enter his office. Law sees red. 

— — 

You whistle along to the music coming from the record player as you finish up breakfast. Your red jumpsuit hung lazily off one shoulder and you had your hair braided with some orange tulip buds in it. 

“Chow time, losers!” You shout as you place the platter of French toast in the middle of the dining table. The crew files into the galley as you finish setting up the table with orange juice and butter. “Last loaf of bread before your captain comes home, you better enjoy it!” You smile and pour syrup on the pile of French toast. 

“I’ll take seconds now, then!” Penguin grinned as he piled extra slices onto his plate. 

You smiled and mussed his cap playfully. 

“Eat up, buttercup.” You take off your apron (which was massively huge since you were borrowing it from Bepo) and hang it up on the side of the fridge. “You guys can rock, paper, scissors for dish duty. I have work to do in the garden oh-!”

Law bursts into the galley carrying a potted plant in one hand, pot hanging on by a thread. 

“Captain! You’re back! We missed you!” Bepo says as he stands from the table. 

“What the hell is this?” Law huffs out. 

“A ficus.” You cross your arms and lean against the fridge. 

“I know what it fucking is, I’m asking why the fuck is it in my office?” Law shakes the poor plant in frustration. 

“Every doctor’s office has a ficus. Good for the air quality.” You reply, casually gesturing to the air on front of you with one hand. 

“Why the fuck would you think you can go into my office without permission? And what the hell are you wearing? You look like a clown.” Law spits. 

“And you wear that crusty hat every day. Sorry if I’m not offended that you don’t like my outfit.” You chuckle. 

“You think this is funny? You come into my base and accept my training, and this is what I have to deal with?” Law angrily gestures at both the French toast on the table and the fresh green trumpet vine you hung from the rafters to make the space more homey. “I’m doing your captain a favor and you’re fucking ungrateful! And is that Cora’s record player?! Who fucking told you that you could touch that?” Law continued his verbal assault on you without signs of stopping. 

Your arms drop. Your brows knit together and your mouth tightens into a fine line. Law doesn’t notice your change in demeanor. 

“This isn’t your doll’s fucking dream house! This is my pirate base!” Law shouts at you and drops the plant to the kitchen floor, causing the pot to shatter. 

You gasp instinctively, bringing your hands to your chest. The only sound in the room was from the record player that was still spinning.

“Captain please… she was just being nice…” Bepo quietly tries to plea with his captain. 

“I don’t care. My base, my rules and while-“ Law replies but you interrupt him. 

“I… I painted that myself…” You stare at the broken pot on the floor, pieces littered between piles of dirt. You look back up at Law. 

“Fuck you.” You huff out with tears in your eyes. The grey smoke beginning to billow from your nose wasn’t lost on you, Law, or anyone else in the room. Feeling that you were close to losing yourself again, you storm off to your room and lock the door behind you. You slide down against the door until your body was seated on the cold metal floor. You bring your hands to your face and sob. 

— — 

*knock knock knock knock* 

“I’m busy” Law says without looking up from the medical journal on his desk. The door opens anyway. Ikkaku storms in with a bag in hand and comes right up to him. She drops the bag on the desk and gestures at it. 

“I cleaned up the mess you made during your tantrum.” She cocks her head angrily. She doesn’t give Law time to respond. “Why the hell are you so mean to that poor girl?” She asks. 

“That poor girl is stubborn and disobedient and she should learn that her actions have consequences. She won’t get stronger if we hold her hand the whole way.” Law looks back down at his medical journal.

“There’s a lot of room between holding her hand and whatever the hell you’re doing. And disobedient? What is she, a golden retriever? She’s a grown woman, Law. She just lost all her friends, has no idea where they are and is stuck here for 2 years with an asshole like you screaming at her. You expect her to hang on your every word? You need to get real. It’s not her fault that you can’t control yourself around her.” 

“And what exactly do you mean by that, Ikkaku?” Law seethed. “And if I were you, I would choose my words very carefully.” Law leaned forward in his chair. 

Ikkaku sighs. 

“What I’m saying is. It’s clear you’re having some… very big feelings about this girl. I don’t know what they are, all I know is you’re being a proper dick because you won’t deal with those feelings. I just think you should give her some grace.” 

“And I think you’re way out of line. Get out of my office, I have work to do.” Lap snaps. 

“Yes Captain.” Ikkaku resigns and leaves Law alone to brood. 

As the door shuts behind Ikkaku, Law closes the medical journal on his desk. He rests his heads in his hands and sighs. Maybe he did fly off the handle about the houseplant… but how else was she going to learn to take things seriously? 

Her carefree nature was so diametrically opposed to his own. It made his blood boil that she refused to take anything seriously, always flitting about and laughing when she made a mistake during training. Every time he reprimanded her, she would flash that cute smile and tell him to “loosen up, will ya? We’ve got 2 years.” 

*Cute?* No, wait. She wasn’t cute. He didn’t think that. She was annoying. Not cute.

Gods, he hated how much she reminded him of someone he used to know… 

— — 

For the third day in a row, Daisy had skipped their training session. Each morning, Law went to the clearing and waited. Waited for something that never came. As the sun set over the tree line, Law returned back to the base. Another wasted day. Frustrated, Law enters his office and flops down into the large leather chair in the middle of the room. His gaze falls upon the bag Ikkaku left on his desk days ago. He rises from the chair and approaches his desk. 

He unties the cinch around the top of the bag and empties it out onto his desk. The bag contained a dead ficus, a handful of dirt, and the broken pieces of the painted clay pot. Law carefully picks the shattered pieces out from the dirty mess and holds one in his hand. 

It was white with black spots. It matched his hat. She had obviously painted this specifically for his office. 

Law sighed. He reached to the side of his desk and opened a drawer. Law sifted through the drawer’s contents for a few moments before retrieving a small bottle of superglue… 

— — 

You were folding your clean laundry on your bed when a knock came at your door. You had spent the past several days since Law’s blowup in your room by yourself, leaving only in the very early hours of the morning to train alone and to tend the garden. 

“I’m not coming to dinner, I’ll eat later!” You yell towards the door. 

“It’s me. Can I come in?” 

You freeze upon hearing Law’s deep voice on the other side of your stateroom door. You hadn’t seen or spoken to the doctor since he berated you in front of his entire crew. 

“Ok.” You call out. 

The door opens slowly and Law enters, closing it behind him. He was carrying something under his arm. Upon closer inspection you see that it was the planter that he had broken on the kitchen floor, however now it was all in one piece again. 

“You’ve been skipping training.” Law states. 

“I’ve been training. Just not with you.” You cross your arms over your chest. “So are you here to yell at me again, or did you need something else?” 

Law swallows nervously. 

“I am here to apologize.” 

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“Oh?” You cock your head. 

“I behaved selfishly. I wasn’t considering anyone but myself.” Law struggles to maintain eye contact with you, gaze shifting from your face to the floor. “You did something kind for me and I… I don’t always receive things like that well…” 

“Clearly.” You reply. 

“Maybe that was an understatement… Regardless, I am sorry I acted the way that I did and I hope that we can continue our training.”

There was a silence.

“Thank you for apologizing. I’ll keep training with you, Law, but if you ever and I mean EVER, treat me like that again I am done here.” You firmly state as you point at him accusingly. 

“I understand.” Law holds the plant pot out towards you. For a surgeon, he did a really shitty job trying to glue it back together. Couldn’t he have just ‘shambles’ed the pieces back into place? This looks like he did it by hand. “I… I couldn’t save the plant…” 

You walk towards him and grab the pot out of his hands. Your right hand grazed his left briefly and Law inhaled sharply. 

“It’s ok, I’ve got a few more in the garden. I’ll keep it out there then.” You turn to place the pot on your desk. 

“No-“

You turn around with a questioning look.

“I… I’d like another one. Good for air quality, you said…” 

You smirk. 

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll bring it by tomorrow evening after training.” 

“Right. I will see you tomorrow then.” Law nods and awkwardly shuffles out of your stateroom. 

*what a strange little guy…* you think to yourself.

xx 

[solarsturniolo]

pls post an in depth tutorial on ur text messages bc when i try to they always turn green but im like nono i want blue

Of course!

Here’s an in-depth tutorial of how i do my text messages!

(Whether they’re green or blue isn’t really something i know how to control, i just know that mine come back blue when i text myself.)

1. Make your phone number a contact in your phone!

Obviously, you’ll want it to be the name of whoever you’re texting as well as their contact photo. In this instance, we will use Chris, just because he was the last one I used.

2. Go into your iMessage app and start a new conversation with your contact!

You can look it up by number or by name, i find it easier to do it by name!

3. Start texting!

The most fun part; coming up with an idea and playing both roles. I like to make certain changes to make them seem more realistic and to differentiate between the reader and whoever they’re talking to! For instance, i ALWAYS make Matt and Chris use lowercase format. Their messages NEVER start with an uppercase letter so that i can easily tell which messages to delete when i’m going through them. I also make Matt and Chris use the wrong versions of your/you’re and there/their/they’re sometimes since they have a history of being grammatically incorrect.

4. The most frustrating part is having to delete some messages.

Remember: you’re texting your own number. These messages have nowhere else to go except back to you! So you’ll have to go through and manually select which ones to delete to make the conversation make sense! (I have had to start over on SEVERAL of these because of one message that i deleted on the wrong side, so take the time to pay close attention to which messages you are deleting! I literally had to redo my example ones 💀)

5. Review and make sure it all looks good!

Usually if I have longer ones, i like to make sure there’s enough conversation to make two separate screenshots without too much layover in the second one. Too much layover can cause confusion and make the reader less interested in the conversation. One or two messages is okay, just so the reader remembers where they left off at, but i try to keep it at three MAX.

6. Screenshot!

I like to keep the time, wifi, and battery percentage out of mine, personally, but you don’t have to crop them if it’s not important to you!

7. Delete!

I always delete the conversation once i’m done with that particular prompt, so as to not confuse myself when i’m making a new one!

8. Format the post!

Once i have 8-10 really good ones, i set up my format on tumblr and upload the pictures. Make sure the conversations are in the right order and then do your tags and stuff and you’re done!

The process can be tedious, but its not super complicated! Have fun making texts!!

[wanda-widow]

Wait For Your Love

Civilian!f!Reader x Male!OC, Avenger!Bucky x Civilian!f!Reader

listened to "We Can't Be Friends" and decided to write on a whim.

Word Count: 1k

Summary: After loving one person that felt like your everything, you can't find it in yourself to love someone else the way you should and they know it. A run in with the person you loved most doesn't help your case much either.

Warnings: divorce, angst, bad writing (sorry it's my first time)

Don't forget to like and reblog 🫶🏻 please don't copy my work

To say that you had no luck in the relationship department was an understatement. Not one of those cliche “oh, I can’t find love, I’m hopeless” situations, but the kind where you couldn’t find yourself loving someone after you were in love for the first time.

Your first and quite possibly only love was the man you ran into the street one Sunday afternoon in Bucharest. The man that had eyes the color of the ocean in the sunlight and a smile that could warm your insides like hot chocolate. The man who was Bucky Barnes himself, the infamous Winter Soldier, the noble Sergeant. But all that put aside, he was your Bucky, your James. Yours.

Yours until one morning, you went to his small apartment to find it wrecked with no sight of him. Bullet shells littered the floor and the wood was broken near a corner of the room. You didn’t see him since, but he was always a lingering “what if” in your mind.

6 years later, your fourth attempt at love had landed you in a marriage that barely seemed to hold itself together. Owen, your husband, was constantly busy and on days that he wasn’t, all the two of you seemed to do was sit around. “I love you’s” had become a barely heard statement, the efforts to try and rekindle what was once a blooming romance falling flat. Maybe it was partially your fault, looking for what you loved in Bucky in other people. You fell in love with Owen because he had made you feel seen, made you feel that warmness you felt when you were with Bucky, a rare gentleman in a messed up society. A rare gentleman who reminded you a little too much of a certain someone. A rare gentleman who wasn’t Bucky and who didn’t quite love you anymore.

Your eyes fell on the overdue divorce papers on the kitchen counter, various bills and letters covering the majority of it. A full year had gone by since Owen had filed for divorce and yet, neither of you had signed it yet. Gently pulling it out from the stack, you sighed as you ran your fingers over it before reaching for a pen.

“Dammit” you sighed softly, signing your name carefully at the bottom before placing it on the kitchen table where he would see it when he got home for work. Walking to your bedroom, you took in the house one more time, gaze lingering in places where you and Owen would cuddle for hours, make meals, and just be in love. Finding your suitcase in the closet, you packed your essentials before leaving your house keys on the table, leaving the house for good.

Deciding to get some food before you crashed at your friend’s house, you found a small sushi bar and parked your car, entering the shop.

“Welcome to Izzy’s, just take a table anywhere or come sit at the bar” A bartender called out as another staff member ushered you to the bar and put the menu in front of you.

“The California roll’s here are good. Basic, I know, but you gotta try them” A warm voice came from your right as you looked up, nodding and looking back down at the menu before doing a double take. Short brown hair, slight stubble, the same ocean blue eyes and charming grin. The same man you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Bucky?!” came the loud response before you could stop yourself, face flaming red from your loud exclamation as he drank you in, putting the pieces together as well.

“(Y/N)... I uh… it’s been a while” he said quietly, turning so that his stool now faced you, sliding the menu over to the server and ordering for you before looking back. “How have you been?”

“How have I been? How have I…” you scoffed, hand coming up to rest on your head, mind reeling from the sudden change of events and the sheer audacity that he had to ask how you had been after running 6 years ago. To be honest or to lie through your teeth, you went with the latter. “I’ve been stuck wondering every night where you had run off to, James. Better yet, my marriage just ended because he didn’t love me anymore and he…” He wasn’t you. I only loved liked him because he was kind of like you. “We just didn’t work” you ended flatly as you stared at the counter.

“That night…” he started to say, throat bobbing as the memories started to flood back. “I ran because I had to. Fuck, if I could be with you without the risk of your safety, I would, (Y/N).”

“Bullshit on the risk of your safety” you retorted, jaw clenched as you remembered the news announcing that he had gotten a full pardon, that he was partnered alongside the new Captain America. Pushing down the hurt and the longing, you shrugged. “It’s fine, guess some things are better left in the past.”

“Doll, c’mon” he said quietly, watching as you shoved a piece of your California roll in your mouth to avoid talking. “Give me a little time to make amends, gather myself after the whole Flash Smashers situation. A-And then we could try again? Start as friends, see where that goes… I…” Sadness flashed on his face for a moment when he saw how dejected you looked. “Please?”

“Maybe”

“Just a couple months wait. Even less if I push through it” He said earnestly, raising an eyebrow as you shoved another piece of sushi in your mouth, waiting for you to swallow.

“I’ll think about it”

“Remember when we used to cuddle on the small mattress in my apartment. You’d make little hand shadow puppet shows for me until I fell asleep” Bucky pushed on, feeling hope bloom in his chest when a small smile tugged at your lips. “And sometimes we’d sit on the balcony and wait for the stars to come out while we made up constellations because Lord knows we don’t know a single one.”

“Okay” you whispered, eyes finally meeting his. “I’ll wait for your love”

Authors Note: Thank you so much for reading! Appreciate all of you so so much 💗

[cookiejarwrites]

Dear Past Self | Chapter 1

pairing: nagito komaeda x fem!reader

words: around 800

synopsis: You begin receiving letters from your future self. As the letters continue, each of your high school regrets are gradually revealed, along with advice to stop them. One thing soon becomes very apparent. All your regrets revolve around one person...Nagito Komaeda.

a/n: still have a brain injury but i got bored and started playing danganronpa again so I’m redoing an old story of mine. It was previously on my ao3 but has been taken down, the old version is still currently on my old Wattpad though.

(aka you receive letters from your future self warning you of the disaster and despair that lies ahead)

I awoke to the jarring sound of my alarm clock blaring. With a swift motion, I slammed my hand down, silencing the obnoxious noise. Annoyed at the early start, I let out a groan. The struggles of waking up for school were never-ending. However, today was different. Today marked the beginning of my journey at Hopes Peak Academy, a prestigious school for individuals with extravagant abilities.

Although I didn't consider my talent particularly exhilarating, I had managed to catch the attention of the academy scouts. I was honored to be known as the Ultimate Pastry Chef. My aspirations revolved around opening my own bakery using only sustainable sources. I could go on for hours about all the details I had for my future, even to the exact menu price of my inevitable future restaurant.

In a less than graceful manner, I rolled out of my bed and thumped onto the floor. Determined not to be tardy on my first day, I hastily threw on my uniform and made my way to the bathroom to complete my morning routine.

As I prepared myself for the day, toothbrush still in my mouth, my mother's voice echoed from downstairs, "Y/N! Someone left a letter for you!"

Without hesitation, I went downstairs, snatched the letter, and darted back up to my bathroom. A sense of curiosity filled me as I examined the envelope. It was pristine, as if it had travelled in a steam-press rather than in a mail mans hand. Flipping it over, I took a closer look at the words. The handwriting bore a striking resemblance to my own, only neater. Surprisingly, there was no postmark on the back, leaving me puzzled as to how it found its way to me in the first place. To add to the intrigue, there was no sender name or address. The only words present were "from the future."

I rolled my eyes skeptically. Clearly, this was some sort of foolish prank. Disregarding the delicate nature of the neatly folded envelope, I tore it open. Swiftly, I plucked the paper from the envelope.

"What a lousy joke," I mumbled under my breath as my eyes scanned the letter.

Skipping to the bottom of the page, I glanced to see if there was the name of the sender, hoping for some kind of explanation. My annoyance increased as I read the words printed in neat handwriting.

"What the..? From me? Jeez, this is so dumb," I muttered to myself, the mix of disbelief and frustration evident in my voice. With each passing moment, my agitation grew

Taking a deep breath, I made up my mind to read the full letter from the beginning. Maybe, just maybe, it held some answers or at least shed light on the strange letter.

"Dear Y/N,

Hello. How are you? I wish you the best. I'm sure you are very excited for high school. You are an ultimate after all.

I'm writing this letter 6 years in your future. I'm sure you are very confused.

I'd like to ask you to do me a favor.

I made many mistakes in my past, and I'm hoping you won't make the same ones. Although it'd be terribly hard to erase all the disaster and despair that is to come, perhaps you can change the future for the better, before things go too far downhill.

I'll be sending you letters from now on. Each letter will be sent in chronological order of when events in your future will happen. I will also give you the choices I want you to make in order to change the past and prevent what is soon to be the most despair-inducing event in all of history. Not that you're the cause of it or anything, but some of your actions may affect how things play out. Especially how things ended up with someone you'll come to truly love.

Sincerely, Your future self."

The words resonated in my mind, leaving me dumbfounded and conflicted. Could this really be true? The thought crossed my mind, but I pushed it aside, not ready to fully accept the notion just yet.

"That's completely ridiculous. This must be a joke or something. There's no way—Oh, shit the time!"

The realization hit me like a bag of bricks, bringing me back to the present moment. I hastily rushed out of the bathroom, not bothering to collect my thoughts or make sense of the situation.

Bounding down the stairs, I grabbed my backpack and an extra pair of dress shoes, my mind racing with thoughts of the ticking clock. It was already 6 minutes past the time I had planned to leave for school, and I couldn't afford to waste another second.

[borahaerhy]

Dealer (10) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: So much action omg, multiple people get shot, chase scene, Namjoon's a doctor?, lots of blood, Jungkook makes a joke, Namjoon performs (minor) surgery, mention of Y/n taking shooting lessons when she was younger, Y/n and Yoongi being soft, someone's missing a chunk of their ear but I'm not telling who, Someone's name is just the letter 'L' (death note theme intensifies), descriptions of Y/n previous relationship

Word count: 2.6k

Previous | Next

Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self-harm, and has self-harm scars. This fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

Yoongi was on you in a matter of seconds, checking to see if you were hurt as they started driving away. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

“I’m fine, Yoongi, Namjoon stepped in before anything bad happened,” You spoke softly as you reassured him, his face and body visibly relaxing as you spoke. 

“We’ve got a tail,” Jungkook spoke softly as he reached up and pressed a button on the overhead console, opening up the sunroof. He reached down beside the seat he was in a picked up the AR-15, before he stood up on the seat and stood out of the roof, and started firing at the car behind you as Namjoon started moving faster, dodging between cars and taking sharp turns down alleys. 

It didn’t take long before there were multiple cars following you. Yoongi cursed under his breath as he noticed all of them piling up and narrowing in before he pulled out his handgun and leaned out of his window, firing bullets haphazardly at the moving targets behind him. 

They were shooting back, bullets raining from people hanging out of every window of every car. “Someone give me a gun,” 

“What!?” Yoongi yelled, looking back at you before returning his attention outside, having to pull himself back in the car to dodge an oncoming bullet. Yoongi was about to protest again when Namjoon pulled the gun from Jungkook's side holster and handed it back to you. 

You pressed the magazine release to check and see if it was fully loaded. It’s a Glock 43, 6 rounds. You pushed the magazine back in and rolled down your window, swiftly moving most of the top half of your body out. You steadied yourself, aimed at the front driver’s side tire at the car directly behind you, and pulled the trigger. 

Hit

The car swerved off to the side and into oncoming traffic. The car behind them moved up quickly. Aim, hit. Two more cars move up, side by side. Car one, aim, hit. Car two, you moved to aim, squaring up the shot perfectly when a bullet came whizzing toward you, and you had to duck back into the car. Miss. 

“Why the fuck hasn’t she had a gun this whole time?” Jungkook yelled from above the car as Namjoon took another risky turn, nearly throwing Yoongi out of the car. You reached your hand up to your ear, your hand covered in blood when you pull it back down to look at it. Shit. 

The shattering of the back window made you duck down behind the seat. Jungkook groaned slightly, falling slightly before he repositioned himself; the bullet that broke through the window must’ve hit his leg. 

You positioned yourself behind the headrest of the seat, now having better cover as you aimed again, only two cars left, and two bullets left in your gun. 

“Y/n, you’re bleeding-” 

“Yeah and I need to focus,” you adjusted your aim and hit, the car swerving sideways, taking the car behind it with it as it rolled out of control. You turned around, ducking back behind the seat and Namjoon turned down an alley. Jungkook’s leg was bleeding badly, blood soaking his dark jeans and running down the armrest it was resting on. 

He almost fell back into the car and into his seat, as you took his gun from him and put it in the trunk, not really knowing where else it could go so that you wouldn’t be afraid of it going off. “Y/n, Jesus, you’re covered in blood,” Yoongi looked terrified as his hands gently moved to cup your cheeks, looking all around to see where it was coming from 

“It’s just my ear, they bleed a lot; Jungkook’s in much worse shape than I am,” You said as you pulled out of his grasp, moving forward to see if there was anything you could do to help him while still in the car. 

“We’re not far, he’ll be fine,” Namjoon rushed through his words, taking occasional glances at Jungkook while trying to navigate the grid-locked town that you were in. 

Less than a minute later, you pulled into a seemingly deserted parking lot right next to an old factory of sorts; not unlike the one Yoongi took you the day you met. You all rushed out of the car to help Jungkook; Namjoon and Yoongi carried him as you opened the unlocked door Namjoon instructed you to get for them. You all rushed in from one side of the building as Jin and the others rushed in from the other, a large group of men you could only assume to be some of his men right behind them. 

“L, go take care of the car, everyone else, secure the perimeter. What happened?” Jin yelled out orders, his men dispersing as he helped Yoongi and Namjoon get Jungkook onto a table. 

“Jungkook got hit, I need to get the bullet out,” Namjoon spoke clearly as he tore open Jungkook’s pant leg, getting better access to the wound as Jin started turning on some large lights that were already set up around the table. 

“Shit, Y/n, are you okay?” Jimin rushed over to you, Hoseok and Taehyung following right behind him. 

“It’s her ear, she wouldn’t let me look at it-” 

“Because it’s fine,” you spoke as Jimin pushed your hair to the side to get a better look. You could tell by the look on everyone's faces that it didn’t look great, but it wasn’t something you were too worried about as you looked over at Namjoon, who had forceps in Jungkook’s leg. 

Jungkook groaned loudly, almost yelling as you rushed over to him, grabbing his hand and helping hold him down as he squeezed onto you, pain coursing through him. Jin was holding his leg down next to you as Namjoon stayed focused on getting the bullet out, everyone else slowly moving around you to watch as he pulled the bullet out, which thankfully hadn’t fragmented. 

“Bullet’s out, checking for any bits of glass,” Namjoon spoke coolly as he picked up a pair of glasses with surgical loupes attached to them, and went back to Jungkook’s injury. Jungkook’s grip had relaxed significantly as he looked up at you, brow furrowed tightly as you could tell he was trying to hold back from gripping onto you any harder. 

“You sure my leg’s worse than your face?” Jungkook joked as he noticed the blood that was not only covering half of your face and neck, but had completely soaked through a rather large portion of your shirt. Namjoon looked up for only a second before he moved back to Jungkook’s leg. 

“She’ll be fine, it’ll only take me a few minutes,” Jin looked over at you in unison with Namjoon, shock covering his features, as he hadn’t noticed you yet. 

“Yoongi, you mind taking over for me?” Yoongi quickly moved over to Jin’s spot, holding Jungkook’s leg down as he had been before Jin’s hand met your shoulder. “Let’s clean you up a bit,” You looked down at Jungkook, who gave a single nod before you left him, Jin pulling you back towards a bathroom. 

“Here,” he spoke calmly as he handed you a paper towel he’d just wet from the sink before he started wetting another one. You started wiping your face as you moved in front of a mirror, where you gasped at the sight of yourself. 

“I thought everyone was being dramatic,” you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself as you started wiping the blood from your cheek and neck. Jin smiled with you as he wrung out his paper towel, waiting for you to need a replacement.

“That happens sometimes, it’s just shock: it stops you from feeling the pain as it’s happening,” 

“Y/n,” You turned around, Hoseok standing at the door. “Namjoon said he can look at you now, he’s just finishing stitching up Jungkook,” You nodded and followed him out of the room after throwing away your paper towel. 

“There’s our hero,” Namjoon smirked as he looked up at you, still finishing up Jungkook. “Just sit down over there, I’ll be over in just a second.” 

“Hero?” Jin questioned, suddenly a lot more interested in what happened on the mission than he was previously. 

“Yeah, you should’ve seen her,” Namjoon spoke proudly as he made his way over to where you were seated, moving one of the lights with him before he propped it up on your right side and pulled up a chair to sit next to you. “She shot everyone's tires, only reason we got out of there alive,” 

“You can shoot?” Jin looked almost taken back, a sly smirk still twitching on his lips. “Why didn’t you say anything, we could’ve been using you,” You shrugged. 

“No one asked,” 

-

Namjoon finished cleaning up your ear before wrapping it in gauze, and you all piled into Taehyung’s van and went back to the safe house. After getting Jungkook settled into a room, Yoongi insisted on staying in your room with you, not wanting to give anyone the chance to get back at you again. 

“I wanted to thank you,” Yoongi spoke carefully, as though he’d gone over the words he was saying over and over again before speaking them aloud. You turned to look at him, standing by the doorway as you stood next to the bed. “You know, for saving our asses,” You smiled as you looked down at the bed you were about to climb into. 

“I figured I owed you one,” You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked up to him, stopping a few feet from where he was standing. He smiled lightly, nodding his head as he avoided your eyes. 

“Where did you learn to do that, anyway?” He asked, straightening himself out to match your stance, his arms crossing. You shrugged as you let your arms fall. 

“My uncle used to take me shooting when I was a kid. Said no boys would ever want to fuck with a woman that could shoot them in the dick from fifty yards away,” You chuckled as you remembered the day he said those words; you’d hit your first target from fifty yards, and he was so proud of you. He’d picked you up and spun you around before making you do it again so he could get it on video. 

Yoongi’s expression fell slightly; he wished your uncle had been right. “Guess it’s kind of fucked up now, given the situation we’re in,” yiu spoke softly, still smiling softly. Yoongi shook his head and took a few small steps toward you. 

“No, I don’t think so,” His eyes moved to the side, staring into space as he thought for a moment. “Well, maybe a little bit, but if anything I think the fact that you have the capability to do that kind of damage and still choose not to is incredible,” 

You felt your face begin to heat up as he carefully studied your features. Every new thing Yoongi learned about you made you so much more endearing to him. All the pain you’d gone through and the struggles that set you back; yet you were still positive despite everything. And even now, after everything, you were still positive. You always found a reason to be happy, a reason to crack a joke and try to lift everyone else’s spirits, regardless of the pain you were in. 

You quite literally got shot in the head earlier today and still made sure Jungkook was okay before you even began to worry about yourself. You saw everyone struggling to keep you safe and in less than six bullets saved them all. Everything about you seemed to make him want to know more, to see more of who you really are. 

“I don’t know if incredible is the right word; I mean you have the same ability that I do, I don’t see you killing people that aren’t threatening you,” The heat in your face only got warmer as you looked anywhere but Yoongi’s face. He couldn’t help but smile lightly as you spoke. How could you still be so adorable to him now, after everything? 

“I also haven’t gone through what you have. And people generally don’t threaten me because of the people I’m affiliated with. That, and I’m not near as good with a gun as you are. I stopped paying attention for half a second and nearly got shot,” You smiled, finally bringing your gaze back to meet his. 

“Well I actually did get shot,” You joked, blushing like an idiot. Yoongi spoke to you differently than what you were used to. Even with Zeke, who was overly complimentary and always finding a new way to make you feel special or important, he never made you feel like this. 

He would fuck up and then smother you with affection. Flowers, chocolates, dinner out at an actual restaurant while he showered you with praise. He’d always tell you how pretty you looked and how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have you. 

And even though the rest of the guys didn’t mean to, they all looked at you with a certain level of pity. They all meant well, but it was impossible to avoid. 

But with Yoongi, it was different. 

It was all in the small details. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, how much he wanted you to be safe, even if he wasn’t the one keeping you safe. When he touched you he was gentle, always watching your reaction to anything he did to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable; kept his emotions in check so he didn’t scare you. 

Nothing he did was to benefit him. He didn’t like you for his own selfish wants; he liked you because of the person you were. 

“How is that, by the way?” His hand came up and gently brushed your hair back so he could see your ear, still bandaged up the same as the last time he saw it. You flinched away slightly, the side of your head still thumping. He stilled for a moment before he let your hair move back down and moved his hand to cup your cheek. 

“Not bad, I suppose. Mostly just worried about how the chunk missing from my ear is going to look,” Yoongi shrugged, looking over at the small strip of tape peeking out from behind your hair. 

“Pretty badass, if I had to guess. Especially when you tell the story of how you got it,” You scoffed, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “Something so small doesn’t really matter. We’re all safe and happy; the way a little bullet wound looks isn’t something you need to worry about. Not now, anyways,” His voice was low and rough as he spoke as the two of you got gradually closer together, almost as if an invisible magnet was pulling you into him unconsciously. 

He closed his eyes as your foreheads met, his thumb rubbing your cheek gently as he sighed, almost sounding relieved. You just stood like that for a moment, your hands clutched onto his shirt, one of his hands on your cheek and the other resting in his pocket as you leaned into one another. 

Yoongi had a way of making you feel safe even in these vulnerable moments. There were no expectations, no requirements for his affection. He held you because he wanted to, because it felt good to be near you, not because he wanted something out of it. 

So there you stood, completely safe in one another's presence.

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