#anyways do u guys think i should order one more coffee cup

[thewhizzyhead]

hi I kinda miss the feeling of being in love okay bye

[serosluv2]

obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)

It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘

a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭

Shoto Todoroki

He fits this trope so well.

He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)

He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.

If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.

He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)

I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:

“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.

Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.

In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.

Hanta Sero

Clawing at my cage for this man.

Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?

He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.

But oh that’s where he is wrong.

When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.

But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:

“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”

“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”

Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.

Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.

Literally ya’ll

He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.

Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.

He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.

[sanguineterrain]

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

[kazemiya]

★彡 Kaoru Hakaze coffeeshop au

a/n: I love coffeeshop au and I think this idea suits kaoru best so yes here it is. Im not so sure abt this one bc it’s kinda long and im kinda struggling with kaoru character (hopefully it wasn’t too bad).

Nestled between a few tall buildings was a cafe, a common hotspot for students and workers alike. Your friend, Chiaki was adamant about you going to check it out at least once. Not like he gave you a choice anyways, at this very moment he is dragging you there.

“C’mon c’mon ! U have to try the coffee and the baristas are rlly nice too! I’m friends with them after all” Chiaki shared as you begrudgingly followed behind him.

“Sure sure I’m here cause I owe u a favour anyways” you replied as you entered the cafe door, opened for you by Chiaki.

Chiaki went ahead and ordered the two lattes “trust me their lattes are to die for!” Whispered Chiaki, with a wink while you two waited for the drinks.

Upon receiving the drink there was only one thing wrong. Your name was spelt wrongly. It was just a letter wrong, maybe it was an honest mistake. Yea there’s no way it’s on purpose yes?

The next day you found yourself at the same cafe, their lattes were actually quite nice but this time you returned without Chiaki.

After placing your order, the blonde barista asked “name?”

“Y/n” you replied, making your way to the side to wait for your drink.

Again??? Again, the name was wrong… but of course you dismissed it.

You returned every other day, before class or after class, sometimes at night. You became a regular after not too long and you noticed some… unusual things.

“Chiaki, there’s a weird problem about that cafe you brought me to”

“Hmm” Chiaki hummed in response, prompting you to continue.

“Firstly, why do they sometimes get my name right and then the next day the get it completely wrong??? The names are getting weirder and more outrageous too…” you ranted, rubbing you temples thinking about the experience. “But you’re right though they have good lattes”

“They’ve never gotten my name wrong though? Maybe you should just ask them, doesn’t hurt to do so you know, go after hours?” Chiaki suggested.

Nodding your head, you went right before they were about to close, upon entering you were greeted by the a black haired barista.

“How may I help you?” He asked.

“Ahem this may sound very random and I’m just curious but why is it my name ends up being written wrongly on my cup?” You asked sheepishly, you felt slightly shy asking such a random question out of nowhere.

“Hmm it actually worked… Kaoru! Someone here for you!” The guy smirked as he yelled to the back, motioning for a blonde barista to talk to you.

“Hi I’m guessing you want to know why your name is spelt wrongly on your cup…?” He asked, shifting his gaze away from your eyes.

“…yea I’m curious” the air was getting tense and awkward. Just why? There must be a reason.

“Well you looked interesting but I didn’t really know how to approach you. So I followed my friends advice (yes he is referring to Rei), and yea so that happened” he explained, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

“So you wanted to get to know me better…hmm I’m not against it but for real what possessed you to follow your friends advice?” You smacked you forehead, laughing at his actions.

He bit back a smile but soon he started laughing along with you, your joyous laughter echoing throughout the cafe.

Only to be interrupted by “oh my you two finally talked? What an accomplishment” Rei sarcastically commented at the sight.

“Shut up.” Kaoru hissed at Rei. You were about to scold Kaoru, especially since it was because of Rei advice he could finally talk to you.

“And you should probably look at who you’re talking to, maybe you’ll meet more people this way” Rei suggested, nodding in your direction.

“Shut up.” You grumbled underneath ur breath.

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part. 

[eyrieofsynapses]

Redemption Panel Highlights and Reactions

GATORS

i.e., Beth Riesgraf and Christian Kane (mostly Beth) talking about filming the scenes in (what I presume is) The Rollin’ on the River Job, where they’re pulling some stuff out of the water, and finding out the next day that there was an absolutely massive alligator pulled out of the same place just a little while after they filmed it

Beth’s impression of the wildlife folks warning them about the alligators

Beth scaring the hell out of Noah Wyle by yelling “GATOR” at him just after he finished his scene

seriously that was an absolutely WILD part of the panel

Everyone showering Aleyse Shannon with literally all the love!

Aldis Hodge in particular big-brothering her, and also the older actors calling her out for not giving herself enough credit, and Dean Devlin talking about how she blew him away at the auditions with her ability to turn on a dime

Seeing Kane with his glasses off wiping at his eyes, momentarily thinking “you okay dude?” and then realizing that he was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes

(same)

The The Bucket Job clip! I’ve been a bit meh on a lot of Redemption, just in how it didn’t feel quite right, but that is possibly the absolute closest I’ve seen it get to the original in the best way. Brilliant

Which comes as no surprise since BETH RIESGRAF directed the episode!!! And apparently put an insane amount of effort in!

Beth’s utter delight and joy at both directing the episode and having the crew behind her

THE CHAIR

So apparently she and Christian went to town on the fight scene and he winds up tied up in a chair somewhere along the line and there’s a whole wild scene, which I am really looking forward to

Beth knowing how insanely particular he’d be about things like zip ties vs rope and what kind of rope e.t.c. e.t.c.

Apparently this is also tied into a VERY DEEP scene with Eliot? It sounds like they’re going to go super hard on his backstory, which is terrifyingly exciting

Just. Beth and Christian going very hard on that episode together

Speaking of: the panel’s going amazingly, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts, things are relatively light, and then, of fucking course—

Kane hitting us over the head about Eliot being a mass murderer who can’t be redeemed, is trying to stay static so that he can maintain the place he’s in, and is thus LIVING VICARIOUSLY THROUGH HARRY

What the FUCK. This is of course incredibly insightful and perfectly on point (because it’s Kane) but also, EXCUSE ME, OUCH, why would you DO THAT to us?

Everyone talking about having their families on set and their kids!

Beth’s son growing up on the original Leverage set and now going into being a director himself!

Gina’s daughter also growing up on set!

Noah Wyle’s daughter is playing Harry’s daughter I REPEAT NOAH WYLE’S ACTUAL DAUGHTER IS PLAYING AS HARRY’S DAUGHTER

Gina Bellman remaining relatively stoic throughout much of the panel (seriously, this woman, how the heck does she do it) and then losing it when they’re asked about running/inside jokes

A lot of them are, of course, apparently not appropriate to be spoken on-panel

(A lot of the others are the little inside ones that are special enough not to be ones they want to share, which is sweet!)

Everyone collectively losing it over having LeVar Burton on for The Bucket Job

Devlin and everyone laughing about collecting the various Star Trek people on Leverage

Beth talking about Burton coming over while she’s getting ready and asking her if she’s living on coffee and water, her laughing because he was absolutely right, and then him gently reminding her to remember to eat, which is the sweetest thing in the world oh my gods

Kane apparently choreographing an intense scene with Burton and being scared out of his mind, because Burton really wanted to go for it, but to Kane it was like he’s a figurine that’s not to be messed with because he was so worried about hurting him

Kane choreographing a massive amount of the show, which I knew already, but seriously, this guy blows me away

Gina and the crew talking about how he’d be away for a day of shooting a fight and all of them would be missing him and thinking about him

Family Vibes

Everyone talking about how they’re very noisy and loud together on set and it’s a bit like walking into a group of people having Christmas dinner (or something to that effect) because they’re just Like That together

Aleyse being the most surprised by Beth when she met her because she was like a little angel of light during the auditions but turned out to be an absolute ball of wild energy on set

Gina going “wait you were a MODEL” at Beth

Aldis talking about how much he loved how Parker and Hardison’s relationship had developed and grown!

Also, Aldis apologizing when the New York (iirc) background noise got loud and everyone going “no no we get you”

His outfit is ON POINT today

Gina saying that Christian is the goofiest and wildest out of them in terms of humor

(she goes “some of you may not know this,” which, fair, but also, if you’ve seen more than ten minutes of this guy outside of character you know he’s an absolute ball of sunshine)

Gina, Beth, and Christian talking about how they’d challenge each other to stay off sweets back on the original set, because they knew they needed to stay in shape and also just because they’re competitive (apparently all of them are major sweet tooths) and hide brownies and things from each other, while Aldis is just. doing pushups. eating all the healthy stuff. and then wanders into the room with a literal cupful of chocolates

(and Aldis going “well yeah I have to work off the sweets SOMEHOW”)

Beth explaining that sometimes they’d order a “Kane burrito” from Christian and he’d alter it slightly

Like, you know, chopping up hot jalapenos super fine and mixing them in, and Beth practically not being able to talk after the first bite

Apparently Aldis still went back a lot even after that

(Christian just seems very pleased with himself over it)

(THESE PEOPLE)

Gina goes “hey we should have an episode where we all swap roles,” Devlin going “WAIT FOR SEASON ONE TO BE DONE,” and then somebody (maybe the moderator?? I don’t remember exactly) going “uh actually. We did that”

Cue immediate scramble of “WAIT WHICH JOB WAS THAT”

(paraphrasing) “Yeah you remember the bit where you put on Parker’s harness and went off a building?”

Turns out half the cast had actually forgotten that that existed and only remember when reminded

The original cast all think of the episodes as “jobs”!!!!

Everyone talking over each other, Devlin going “it was with Sterling when we blew up the offices,” deciding that it was the season one finale, and then trying to figure out what episode title it was (eventually they figure out it’s the David jobs)

Moderator and Devlin accurately commenting that the fans know the show much better than they do

Noah Wyle very correctly explaining how Electric Entertainment is like a family and Devlin just. Keeps people

Aleyse and Aldis talking about typing when they’re hacking and going “WHAT THE HECK DO WE TYPE”

Aldis goes “yeah I just type all the bad words that we’re not allowed to say”

Aleyse saying that she’s always a little worried they’re hiding a Word document behind the blue screen and they’re going to pull up what she’s typing at the end of the day and print it out and put it in her trailer going “what the HECK is this”

Noah talking about filming The Golf Job and just getting to direct Jason Marsters and Christian together

Apparently their dynamic in that episode accurately mirrors the one with their characters in Angel!

Which promptly goes straight to the comment that it was very hard to make Marsters look like a golfer (pfft)

(Also apparently Christian plays golf for fun with his friends? Not necessarily something I would’ve thought of!)

Aleyse happily talking about how she loved the dynamic on set and it was very different from what she was used to

Also Aleyse talking about doing stunts and everyone else praising her for going whole hog

Beth especially praising her for the bit where she’s hit with the paralysis injection (I don’t remember which ep it’s from) and her acting for it, because it was incredibly hard to drop off screen in the particular way she did

Aleyse promptly answers that she was terrified with some of those, especially one where she had to keep a clock from falling and breaking

Everyone discussing how they see a new aspect of Breanna’s character in The Train Job

Also, to get serious for a moment, Kate Rorick in particular talks about how Breanna’s part of Gen Z and how we didn’t get the “days of yore” where everything was chill. We’ve basically been living in a world of hostility the whole time. It’s something I deeply appreciate, as someone who’s part of that group, and I love how they emphasize that for us.

This panel was pure chaos and I loved every moment of it! My stomach was actually hurting from laughing so hard, I swear. They had me cackling well over half the time. I would happily take panels double or triple the length of this, this was amazing. I also adore how the second you drop these six people in a room together, they immediately take off and literally just run and give you everything you wanted and more. (It is also evidently very hard to get them to STOP talking.)

I’m also just going to stop and take a second to fawn over the effects for the 3D room. It’s gorgeous—I love how they replicated the headquarters, especially with the stained glass ceilings! Super impressive, especially with all the photos, and I just love the whole thing. Kudos to whoever put that together.

Anyway, I’m definitely missing some stuff too; seriously, there wasn’t a second wasted in this thing, they were cracking some kind of joke or dropping some really interesting piece of information practically every thirty seconds. (And I haven’t even gotten into the clips OR the bloopers. I miiiight do a separate reaction purely for those.) It’s still up right now if you missed it and you want to watch it! I’ll probably watch it again, honestly.

[myherowritings]

PART 3. ACCIDENTAL SUGAR DADDY?

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. happy new year y’all! :3 i hope you have a good 2021 and here is some flirty ceo!shouto for u to enjoy as we enter the new year hehe ;) thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

“I heard you dropped by this weekend,” you said as a greeting, a playful smile on your lips. “Looking for me?”

If the tips of his ears didn’t tinge pink, you would have guessed Shouto was completely unaffected by your words. 

“Mn.” He drew his attention away from your gaze and pointedly adjusted his cufflinks. “Good morning to you too.” 

You laughed, accepting you wouldn’t get anything out of your attempt at teasing. “Morning, Shouto. How was your weekend?” 

The cafe was quite busy this hour, but Miyazaki took over the other register to alleviate the stress (though, what she really said was so you and pretty boy—who happened to be rich rich—could talk). Whatever the reason, you were glad for a small break whenever you could get it.

“You could say it was busy,” he replied, sounding a bit tired. For the first time since you met him, you actually noticed how exhausted he looked. You wanted to put cucumbers on his eyes and lay his head down on your lap to coax him to sleep. Nonetheless, he smiled softly at you. “And yours? I hope you were able to have time to rest and relax.”

You nodded. “I just slept a lot and caught up on the shows I missed throughout the week.”

“The real way a weekend should be spent.” 

His voice was teasing but he didn’t sound mocking. Just...somewhat playful. There was something about his tone that made you want to hear it again.

“Something tells me you need a weekend away where you could just relax and do nothing,” you commented, tapping the back of your pen to your chin. “Do you not have any days off at work?” 

He considered this. “Depends what you mean by day off.” 

“If you have to ask that, that probably means you don’t have a day off, huh?” you said with a frown, holding your hand over your chest as you sighed dramatically. “You poor thing. Overworked and tired. Maybe I should steal you away one weekend and get you to just relax.” 

You were only half-serious.

“Maybe you should,” agreed Shouto, sounding full-serious.

“Maybe I will,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. Maybe you could if you actually had his number… Then, feeling shameful you said, “But, ah, anyway, what can I get for you today? We actually have cheese danishes again!”

His face brightened. “You do? I’ll take five dozen.”

With a laugh you took down his order. You really weren’t sure where all these pastries were going when he bought it, but judging from his expression, you figured it must be somewhere good. 

“And for your drink?”

“This time I’ll have a large green tea with almond milk, please.” 

You nodded but tilted your head to the side in question. “No coffee with extra shots of espresso today?” 

“I add too much sugar and creamer to my coffee,” he admitted sheepishly. “And with all the baked goods I’ve been eating I realized I may have had an excess amount of sweets lately.” 

With an understanding laugh you patted his hand that was resting on the counter woefully. “I can definitely relate to that. If too many sweets are bad for you they shouldn’t have made it taste so good.”

Shouto glanced down at where your hands touched, an expression you couldn’t quite discern on his face. Averting your gaze, you quickly pulled your hand back. Was that inappropriate of you? Did he find it too pushy?

“Oh— Sorry about that,” you said, rubbing your elbow with your opposite hand. “Got a bit ahead of myself there.”

“No, it’s fine.” He blinked once. “I didn’t mind.”

Unsure if he meant anything by that and unsure if you were reading too much into things, you simply brushed the topic off and moved on to getting his order in telling him the price. 

“Paying by card again, I’m assuming?” you asked before hitting the appropriate button on the screen.

“Correct.”

By now the sight of the sleek and pretty credit card was one you grew rather fond of as he scanned over the payment terminal and signed his name. Was it weird you wanted to examine his signature more closely? Shouto seemed like the type of person who would have a fancy signature that somehow looked like art. 

As per routine, you told him his order would be ready for pick up at his right and, before he left the register, he thanked you and gave you another $100. 

Did it feel any less strange than the first time he tipped you? Not really, no. But you still weren’t going to complain about a generous tip from a willing customer.

Before he left with his cheese danishes and cup of tea in hand, he stopped by next to you with a small smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You grinned back. “Can’t wait, Shouto!” 

— ✩ —

This went on for a whole other week. By this point, he had given you over $1,000 in tip and you were starting to feel like you should give him something in return despite him assuring you he didn’t expect anything. 

When you told your friends about the nice guy you met while you were working and they asked for the details, the first thing they said in response to your situation was, “Sugar daddy?” 

Before they planted that thought into your head, you just took it as a rich businessman who hated the rich and believed in redistribution of wealth—you couldn’t complain about that. That made him even more appealing, if you must say. But once Kaminari and Ashido whispered those two words, you couldn’t help but see the comparisons. 

You had no issues with sugar daddies or sugar babies; as long as they were two consenting adults, what did it matter to you? It just wasn’t something you were looking for at the time and you didn’t want Shouto to get the wrong impression or involve yourself in something you weren’t ready to. 

As you commuted to work for your next morning shift, you told yourself today was the day you’d thank him one final time for the tips, but tell him you couldn’t accept anymore. You were sure he’d be understanding but you also hoped it wouldn’t deter him from coming to see you. That was the last thing you’d want. 

“Mrs. Miyazaki,” you said between customers. “When Shouto comes in, do you think I can step away from the register to talk to him for a little? I promise it’ll be brief!”

She waved her hand dismissively. “That’s not a problem. Are you finally going to ask him out or something?”

You scratched the back of your neck. “Or something, yeah.” 

Thankfully, by the time Shouto arrived today, it was later than he normally came, meaning rush hour was almost dying down. 

“Good morning! Someone’s a little late today,” you teased. “Overslept?” 

“I wish,” he sighed wistfully. “I had a meeting early this morning and it just ended. Didn’t have a chance to pick up some coffee or pastries beforehand.” 

You frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope whoever was hosting the meeting at least provided you guys drinks and snacks!” 

He paused. “He did, but… I just thought yours were better.” 

Smiling at the compliment, you preened. “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised. And I’m glad you were able to drop by still. Would’ve missed you too much otherwise.”

Again, you were only half-serious.

“Hm. I would’ve missed you too.”

And again, he seemed full-serious. Not that you minded. 

After taking his order and watching him pay, you pulled him to the side, looking over at your boss so she knew what was going on. She gave you a brief nod as you turned your attention to Shouto. 

A lapse of silence went by and he spoke up, “Did you have something you wanted to say?” 

“Yeah, actually.” You wrung your fingers nervously, hoping you wouldn’t say anything to offend him since you knew his actions were coming from a kind place. “I just wanted to say… I’m not really looking for a sugar daddy right now.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “Pardon?” 

You stared at him, unsure what to say. 

“I— Sorry. I wasn’t… It’s not my intention to be a...sugar daddy either.” Shouto’s face flushed a bright pink that made your own cheeks warm up in response. 

“But the—the money? I just… I guess I thought…” You winced.

So he wasn’t trying to pick up a sugar baby… Well, this was awkward. But regardless, you think you’ve gotten close enough to him to the point where it would feel weird accepting money from him. 

“I’m sorry if I was unclear. It really is just a tip to show appreciation for your service here.” 

You shook your head. “No! Sorry, that makes sense! My friends just said… And then I…” you trailed off, feeling a million times more flustered than when you started. “Sorry about that. The sugar daddy mishap aside, I still wanted to say that I really appreciate the tips you gave, but I don’t think I can accept them anymore.” 

Slowly, he nodded, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt. “I understand. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened!” you were quick to assure. “I really am thankful, but… I think we’ve gotten too close for me to be comfortable accepting that much money, you know?”

Shouto tilted his head to the side, listening intently. 

“Like,” you tried to explain, fiddling with your apron, “over the past few weeks I just think we’ve gotten to know each other more and I think of you as a friend of sorts now.” You peered at him through your lashes, hoping your words were making sense. “I think as a relationship develops—for me, at least—adding money into the mix can cause weird power imbalances if not communicated properly. And I just don’t want that for us.” 

He thought through your words for a while before agreeing. “I get what you mean. I wouldn’t want to unintentionally make you feel like you owe me anything, so if you’re not comfortable with it, I can stop.” 

“Thanks, Shouto,” you said with a beam, glad he was so receptive. Really though, what else did you expect? From your interactions with him you took him to be kindhearted and open. Of course he wouldn’t be upset over this. “But just to be clear, this doesn’t mean you should stop coming! Right? I don’t want to stop being your friend or anything!” 

With a small laugh, he nodded. “Sure. I wouldn’t want to part with my favorite cafe. And I’d like to keep being friends as well.”

Those words warmed your heart. You really were nervous about this confrontation earlier; you didn’t want voicing your opinion to mean ending your friendship. (Although, if you sharing what you were comfortable with was enough to end a relationship, then you supposed it was bound to be a toxic and stifling one in the long run and it was good to know in the beginning to end it before it could grow.) Turns out, however, that you didn’t even need to worry about that. He was understanding and sweet and you were glad to have gotten this out of the way.

“Well, as new friends,” you said, gently nudging his side, “maybe we should get to know each other more? Exchange numbers… Hang out outside of this cafe…” You ran through some suggestions, almost bouncing on your feet in excitement. “I mean, I know you’re always so busy and might not have much free time to hang out. But— If you’re ever free one weekend…” 

“I’d enjoy that,” he cut in, saving you from blabbering your mouth off and accidentally embarrassing yourself. “Didn’t you say you’d steal me away from work to relax? I’m still holding you to that.” 

The beginnings of a smirk formed on his face as he looked at your flustered expression. Was he teasing you?

You huffed, pretending to be insulted by his playful mocking. “Guess I’ll really have to do it then.” 

“Guess so.”

“Maybe you should give me your number first so we could plan it.” 

“Okay.”

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours, both of your adding your numbers to the contact list. Smiling, you held the phone in front of the two of you to take a contact picture of yourself for Shouto’s phone. To your complete surprise, he laughed before promptly following suit and taking a selfie for his contact image. 

“Cute,” you said when he handed you back your phone. 

“You too.” 

Placing your device back in your pocket, you looked at him, hand on hip. “Since when did you become such a smooth-talker? Am I going to have to guard my heart now?” 

His only response was a shrug, but you could see hints of a smile playing on his face. The two of you seemed to be smiling a lot lately, you couldn’t help but notice. 

“I should probably let you go to work now—and I should go back to mine.” You gestured to the growing line at the front of the store. Your manager looked like she had things under control, but you didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness. “You should text me later though. If you want.”

“I’ll do that,” Shouto promised, picking up his drink and pastry boxes from the side counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. And… I’ll message you soon.” 

As you watched him leave the store, you were certain you had a silly look on your face as you stared in a trance. 

“I’ll turn my phone off silent just for you!” you said to his back, hoping he understood what a momentous occasion this was. Your phone was always on silent (unless you were playing a game, of course). But for Shouto, you could handle hearing the obnoxious ringtone and text tone. 

With an amused expression he nodded before waving goodbye.

Later on that day, at the end of your shift, you noticed a new message from a certain someone that made your stomach flutter.

Shouto: Hi there. It’s Shouto :)

You never knew those four simple words would be enough to keep the grin plastered on your face up until the moment your head hit your pillow to fall asleep. But, damn— Were you glad that happened to be the case. 

a/n: whY WAS SHOUTO AND Y/N EXCHANGING NUMBERS SO CUTE idk that scene got me all blushy and :DDD HFJDKSF like taking a selfie with shouto and getting his number? only goal in life BFHFGF,, also y/n said no more tips how we feeling? ;o 

what to expect in the next part:

an unwanted visitor ಥ_ಥ

shouto has a...proposition for y/n 

FLIRTING FLUFF SO MUCH CUTENESS U MIGHT CRY

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~

[soobasaur]

are you mine?

— a lee minho au

genre: enemies to lovers minho x gender neutral!reader

a/n: this is for my bestie who has been in a minho obsession lately and needs more content, you know who you are :]

« masterlist

you and minho didnt exactly,,,get along very well for a while

the only reason you both even knew each other was two of your best friends were dating and merged ur friend groups

(thanks a lot binsung 〴⋋_⋌〵)

you wouldnt go as far as to say you hated him

but you liked to pretend you did

you just barely saw him around so why not just mke him your mortal enemy??

it was easier to hate him then admit he was decent company!!

you had a reputation to uphold!!!!

and apparently he did too because he never really disagreed,,,,

you guys just ever had a chance to get off on the right foot and really talk

mutual disagreement <33

the thing is, the both of you were never left alone together

like ever

until that one time yall were abandoned (-д-；)

you and ur friend groups planned a hang out but everyone ended up cancelling last minute with no excuse

it was just you two who didnt get the memo and ended up alone

now that you think about it,,,that sounds like smth ur friends would do on purpose

(again, fuck u binsung!! ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ )

so just picture this,,,you and minho both showing up to an arcade and sitting in silence for an hour before getting a text that everyone cancelled

your immediate thought was to go home bc why would minho want to hang out with you???

but after the both of you read the text in the groupchat he got up and made his way inside, holding the door open and quirking his eyebrow up at you

“well, are you coming or not? I wanna try the new vr game.”

and you were just like \\(⊙︿⊙)// ???

he? wants?? to hang out??? with just you????

but u ended up following him in and he paid for your guy’s tickets ≧��≦

“just buy me lunch after and we’re even”

lunch??? now this mf wants to get lunch together?!$%

you learned one thing about minho that day

he was,,,competitive,,VERY competitive

like what demon possessed him kind of competitive

whenever he won he would flash you a smirk and skip to the next game as he dragged his row of tickets along

it INFURIATED U!!!

ur pride was in shambles

so you unleashed everything after that and won a good amount of games ;)

u had been eyeing a cute cat plush the entire time but u didnt have enough tickets at the end :((

o(╥﹏╥)o damn it capitalism u just wanted a plushie

you didnt rlly want anything else so you gave your tickets to minho and waited to the side for him to get his prize

he came out with tHE SAME PLUSHIE YOU HAD BEEN EYEING \\( ಠ_ಠ)//

but before you could sulk about it he handed it to you and started to make his way to the exit Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

and during lunch this bitch ended up paying even after saying you should (｀ε´)

\(▰˘◡˘▰)//\\ (▰˘◡˘▰)//\\ (▰˘◡˘▰)// \\(▰˘◡˘▰)//

After that...hang out if you will,,u started to notice minho everywhere

LIKE E V E R Y W H E R E

why was this bitch all over your college campus?

you never noticed minho was in ur class for the longest time jsskkfk

like all of a sudden u just spotted him out of the corner of ur eye and were like o h

once he noticed you too there was no going back

say good bye to paying attention in class

(as if you ever did anyways)

he started to inch closer to you during class

he even started sending you notes

ಠ▃ಠ and u were so paranoid the professor would catch you

but this bitch was slick so u were fine

ヽ(๏∀๏ )ﾉ

he was the type of guy to throw little crumpled sticky notes at you whenever he wanted to say something during class

they’d be covered with doodles of cats and his scribbly messy handwriting + little hearts

it was usually just some dumb thought he had or a crude drawing of the professor (. ﾟーﾟ)

other than those few notes you guys never really talked outside ur friend group

there was one incident late at night tho

you had a big project coming up and it was 2am and you were...2 sentences in T_T

you deserved a coffee break <3

so that was how you found under the awning of an all night coffee shop

except it wasn't all night and closed right after you got ur coffee!!

and now u were stuck under the awning!!

all you had was your measly hoodie that you stole from changbin and your now soggy cup of coffee as you waited for the rain to pass

you might as well of just stayed home since ur wasting all this time you could’ve been working on your project standing outside

were you gonna work on the project once you got home? no

but did the thought of wasted time still make you mad? yes

you slumped against the shop as you bitterly drank your coffee, crushing the cup between your hands

after a couple minutes you felt the rain above you stop

you look to your side to see,,,minho?!

this mf was holding an umbrella above your head

“here, take my umbrella.”

thats when you noticed the cafe uniform he had on

“you work here?” you asked, before taking the umbrella from his hand

“yeah, your observant ass didnt see me literally make your coffee,”

“oh whoops,,,i thought you hated me, why are you giving me our umbrella?”

“i do, but id rather you uh...not die in the cold looking like a dead rat.”

was it just you or were his cheeks dusted pink?

probably the cold

(y/n you dumb bitch-)

you both walk back to your dorms after that

and he insists you carry the umbrella

cus his poor arms are tired from making coffee all day :((

and maybe it's an excuse to be closer to you

since hes a bit taller he has to crouch and scoot closer to you in order to not get wet >_<

⊙﹏⊙ ⊙﹏⊙ ⊙﹏⊙

over the next few weeks your find urself at the cafe he works at more often

one time you got the hours wrong and he wasnt on shift :(

but when you got up to leave he walked in and spent the day helping you study instead of working

you went for the coffee!! not for him!! definitely not,,,

(¬‿¬)

“look, im only hanging out with you cus you get the employee discount.”

“sure, and not cus you enjoy my company-”

“i 100% despise your company.”

ok but u didnt

u actually /REALLY/ liked his company

like WTF

where has he been all ur life

ew that sounded too romantic

but like fr where was he hiding

(・ε・｀)

soon you both were joining binsung on their dates

but it wasn't a double date!!

it was just four friends hanging out and two happened to be a couple

and they liked to hang out at fancy restaurants and do couple like activities

totally normal!!

there was one incident where you were about to pay for your meal but minho placed his hand on top of yours and slid his card instead

“you can pay on the next date.”

NEXT? DATE??

excuse me sir what do u mean-

you ignored changbin and jisung’s snickers behind you the entire night

when minho walked you home you couldnt help but let urself blurt out

“was this a date?”

minho gave you an incredulous look

“...was it not??”

oh my god this is embarrassing

“OH MY GOD WAS IT NOT?!!”

you ignored how minho was now turning crimson red and panicking and tugged on his collar, pulling him down for a kiss

“it was...a date” you mumble, now shy at the close proximity between the two of you

“...im gonna kill jisung.” he muttered, pulling you in for a hug, “he told me this was a double date”

“that can be our next date, the murder of our best friends.”

“wow i am in love with you.”

＼（＾○＾）人（＾○＾）／

minho and y/n murder besties!!

for legal reasons that is a joke

( ˶˘ ³˘(˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)♡

thank you for reading !!

[4dtk]

NCT 127: finding out you're older than them

“Hey, can I request an NCT127 reaction to finding out you're actually older than them when they thought you were much younger than them? (like you look really young despite your age lol)” thank u for waiting honey <3 ps i just used random years that are older than the members!

enjoy! this was fun to write ^^

→ TAEIL would have his mouth in an ‘O’, but more of a ‘ooh cool!’ way where he’s nodding repeatedly to nothing seconds after you’ve spilled the beans. it sinks in more later when he thinks of your birth years side by side and he’s like omg! i’m finally not the oldest and it garners a laugh out of you that you don’t mind being called old by him. honestly, you don’t mind being called old at all by the other members, since technically you are taeil’s s/o. the members are closer to the male, so when they call him old, you join in lol

“woah hyung/noona! i can’t believe you now take the place of oldest in our group,” mark says, although gets a smack from haechan for saying that.

“ack! sorry taeil-hyung and (y/n)-hyung/(y/n)-noona, mark’s mouth is a little big today.”

taeil waves it off, curling an arm around your waist to bring you closer as mark avoids eye contact. slowly the members crowd around the four of you, interested in the topic that’s taking place. it was well over 11pm in the practice room, and having just ended dance practice, they cooled down by taking part in the conversation.

“yeah! you finally can call someone else old!” another smack and a whine from mark accompanied by an apologetic look that wasn’t seen often on donghyuck.

“i’m sorry for them,” taeil whispers with a laugh, placing a kiss onto your cheek before taking a swig of water from his bottle. he takes your shaking head as acceptance of your new position of the oldest, pleased when you return his kiss with one to his lips.

→ JOHNNY is the one to pull a dramatic face lol. you know the one where his mouth is in a ‘O’ and his eyebrows are knitted. the expression is playful, but there’s a bit of genuine shock behind it. recovers from it quickly tho and jokingly calls you ‘daddy/mommy’ to annoy you. i can see him calling you the term later if you get married or have kids though, just in a third person kinda way - something like a running joke from when he discovered you were older years ago.

“no way, you’re born in 1992?” his jaw is dropped, eyes wide that makes you smile just a little, “holy shit you’re old,” there’s a fit of laughter when your hand lands on his back as a form of retaliation (“like you’re not!”), but you agree either way, shrugging nonchalantly at the year of birth.

“then maybe now i can call you daddy/mommy,” you groan at that, shoving him for real now as he lands on the sofa behind him and doyoung at the dining table contemplates whether he should interfere. he decides not to when you full on attack your boyfriend, although with half-assed punches as johnny continues to moan out theatrically in between attacks, “but for real though, next time, i wanna hear voices calling you.”

“the fuck? you mean in like a horror movie way?”

“nah, in the i wanna have a family way.” you gulp with a surprised expression and you launch a badly timed attack that hits him in the balls. you’re apologising with a fluster, johnny is groaning in pain. oh well, this could be story to tell your kids or adopted babies next time.

→ TAEYONG is making surprised noises. it’s so cute lol that you’re the one ending up teasing him about it. taeyong forgets it sometimes, so you have the pleasure of seeing him react like a couple of times bc it finally settles in his mind that you’re older than him. other than that, yong loves you all the same and sometimes acts like a baby just so you’d cave and take care of him. he argues that it’s only the right way! older s/o? you take care of me! i want to be babied.

“huh? you’re older than me?” taeyong asks, mindlessly digging through your stuff until he comes across your ID. he curiously sifts through the information on it, but the number of your birth year seemed to stand out the most.

you hum, placing the last bits of your mask on yourself as you turn back to your boyfriend with a similar look: hair band pushing his dyed hair back, with a mask like yours on his face.

a noise of approval spills from taeyong’s mouth, and you’re left giggling in confusion until he explains his reason for it. you nod through it, happy to give your boyfriend what he wants while he takes his place in your arms. “feels nice,” taeyong mumbles, loving the way you’re playing with his fingers before he asks a question with a small voice. “can we do this more often?”

“of course,” and now you’re glad for taeyong’s curiosity of your things, presenting you with the opportunity (and excuse) to hold your lover in your arms.

→ YUTA doesn’t care either tbh. he may be one of the ones to figure it out before the others - how? you don’t know either but i have a feeling he might’ve taken a look at your ID or something along those lines. mans just nods at the year. as long as you’re still yourself and don’t change how you act in the relationship obvi bc he’s dating you bc of how you’ve presented yourself so far. it’ll feel weird if you suddenly start to dote on him just because you’re older. still likes to take care of you <3

“hey babe? were you born in 1993?” yuta inquires one day at dinner, the whole table of members somehow going a little quiet at the revelation.

“mhm! how’d you know?” you tilted your head, placing a piece of fish into your mouth and ignoring the shocked faces on the faces of the different members.

“eehh- i just saw it on your ID accidentally the other day,” yuta smiles when wiggle your mouth around to feel for the fish’s bone, finally able to shoot your boyfriend a smile as you both go back to your dinner. your laugh is the one thing that’s heard across the table and the occasional clinks of chopsticks against porcelain, and you’re confident if you were on a sitcom, the camera would just have all the members staring into it in shock.

“is it that surprising?” you asked the members, some of them waving their hands and shaking their head, knowing that yuta would probably take it up to them if they happen to have a problem with it.

“so i actually needed to call you hyung/noona?! i’m so sorry!!!” mark exclaims, earning a giggle from you.

→ DOYOUNG would react a little intensely too, but more in a starstruck, quiet kind of way. he just has this wide eyed look that make you burst out in laughter at the discovery and his lips are making a funny shape. he nods it off calm and cooly, but inside he’s like oh my god wtf really???? why didn’t i know this holy shit are they going to leave me for not knowing you can see no thought behind his eyes but you know the man’s spiralling a little inside that you have to reassure him that it’s just a minor thing (he gets out of the dump pretty quickly). your age reveal doesn’t affect him much either.

“you’re- you’re older than me?” doyoung’s mouth dries, coffee cup hovering just below his lips as you drop the bomb without much care. it’s quiet in the early morning, having had just finished filming his relay cam, but you can practically hear doyoung’s thoughts. he’s brought of it when you place a hand on his wrist.

“babe, baby, it’s okay. i didn’t tell you anyway, don’t worry about it,” your smile is blinding, and it has doyoung smiling as well, agreeing along to your reasoning and slowly easing into his previous action of drinking his beverage before he halts again.

your head tilts in question. “what is it?”

your boyfriend waves it off with a shy smile, bringing your hand to his lips as he lands a kiss on the skin there, “nothing. just thinking about how much i love you.”

“did it change?”

there’s a blush on his cheeks when he says it, glad for the two of you being in the only ones awake. “no, not one bit.”

→ JAEHYUN would one way or another kind of know already, although he’s not 100% sure. he’s observant, sometimes content with watching you take care of the other members (poor guy gets jealous tho) or just cleaning up after him when he’s a little too tired to do things - like wash his hair and what not. even if you’re not a naturally ‘taking care of others’ person, jaehyun picks up on the things that he’s heard his friends talk about regarding their older siblings (since he’s an only child) or compares to how you act around the group that’s similar to taeyong or doyoung. i can see jaehyun being a little disappointed, but it doesn’t change much as long as he can keep the dynamic of the relationship (so him giving the affection with you in his embrace). jaehyun is a quiet kind of shock like doyoung.

“huh… you’re born in 1994?”

“sure am,” you’re filling out a form for a membership, pen scribbling with swiftness in order not to hold up the line. you pass it back in a minute as the cashier processes your membership, and you feel jaehyun squeeze your hand. “why, why? is it an issue?” you mumble a thank you to the cashier, heading out of the store hand in hand while you find a spot to talk to your boyfriend.

“no no,” jaehyun giggles, a low one that makes your heart flutter, and he leans down to place a kiss onto your lips. it lingers there longer than you expected and you feel his smile on your lips. “there’s no issue. it just kinda adds up, in a way. you’re such a natural at giving advice and taking care of the other members. i’m just… a little surprised, is all.”

you laugh at that, meeting his lips again in a loving peck, “okay, that’s good then!”

→ JUNGWOO says “woowww!” like video game commentary and claps. yes he claps, you’re not sure why either but he’s just so thrilled to learn of your birth year that he just nods along and gives you a thumb-up after. i can’t say he’ll be that shocked, more of like happy for you like you just told him you passed a test or something. when you ask him about it, he just shrugs and pats you on the back. it’s all part of his personality, though, and like taeyong/yuta, he wouldn’t care much apart from being able to call you ‘sunbaenim’ as a joke. sometimes calls you senpai LMAO

“woah, you’re older than me by four years?” jungwoo mumbles when you show him your old IDs, the topic of your birth year overriding the original goal of wanting to see your foetus pictures.

“hm? oh yeah, i guess i never really mentioned it, huh?” you continue with what you were doing, cleaning up the stray hairs sticking out from your hairdo before jungwoo comes back hugging with his long limbs and silky outfit.

“congrats!” he meets your eyes through the vanity mirror and proceeds to peck your cheek and your expression that follows next brings laughter to jungwoo’s chest. you can feel it move from behind you, hoping he wouldn’t mess up the hour you spent on your hair. “why congrats?” your lip is curled with a raise of your eyebrows as your boyfriend continues to hang off your shoulders.

he thinks, then replies with a dunno and leaves the area to settle back on the bed. the snap of his camera follows next, no doubt taking pictures of the serious face shots of your old ID cards.

→ MARK would be one of the ones that you think is over exaggerating, except he’s just that shocked. he would stumble over his words and texting johnny or whoever to tell him and be like “yoooo? huh? what?” mark would probably be the last one to make the connection and johnny is all like “yeah? u didn’t know?” and mark is like “HOW WOULD I KNOW THEY LOOK SO YOUNG?????!!” hysterical, this man. mark almost doesn’t believe it for a second and you have to take out your ID to show him lmfao

mark’s head snaps to you once he overhears you in conversation with the flyer distributor, catching your attention with something that was in line with your interests. mark tunes out the promoter explaining the features of the product, only coming back to earth when you mention your date of birth for a trial of their services.

“you’re WHAT? nah. no. no way, show me your ID.”

the other jumps back at the sudden exclamation while you just raise an eyebrow. sorry, excuse him, you mumble, and you’re dragging mark off to the side as you fumble in your bag to pull out your ID in exasperation. the timing is imperfectly perfect: mark bends down to inspect your birth year, you flip open the wallet a little too hard, it hits his head in a loud thwack!

“ow.” mark giggles, squinting his eyes to finally make out the fading ‘1998’ on your card, “oh! so the same as jungwoo hyung?” he giggles again, “he finally as someone to talk to!”

→ HAECHAN is shocked but would immediately mask it and go like “oh my! still so pretty, miss halmeoni,” he coos and you’re so ready to smack him. in a way acts like johnny but will not stop using the word on a daily basis (unless you tell him that you don’t like it). it becomes part of the pet names that he calls you, but he still likes the classic baby/honey/love. sometimes also like to whine with hyung/noona if he wants something, like a new video game or for you to buy food for him. other than that, haechan is pretty indifferent about you being older than him.

“hah?! you’re born in 1999?” haechan has his neck stuck out like a fish out of water, not posing that much difference since he’s just finished a shower. you make the bed with deftness, tucking in the duvet easily as your boyfriend approaches from behind.

he’s shocked, but before you can comment on it, he recovers quickly to deliver a quip through his toothpaste-filled mouth, “oh my! halmeoni, then you should take a seat!” your hands are on your hips, glaring at him while he only grins.

you indulge him, though, and take a seat on the newly made bed, relaxing into the softness of the sheets with elbows.

“if i’m considered elderly, then, you can do the housework for me, right?” the dread that slowly fills up haechan’s features make you explode into giggles, before pushing yourself up to come face to face with him.

“thought so,” you whispered, petting his head as you continue the clean-up of the room.

[rosy-cheekx]

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin.  It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

--

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

--

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

[nikrangdan]

cafeworker!ni-ki

pairing: cafeworker!ni-ki x female reader

genre: fluff, comedy

description: the cashier at the new coffee shop was so adorable you just couldn’t resist visiting just for him

**did not proofread

————

contrary to popular belief, you were NOT a social person

whenever you were around friends and family, you were always the loudest person there

like SHUT UP Y/N!!!!!!

anyways although you were loud, people still enjoyed being around you because you had such a sweet soul and interesting humor

everyone close to you knew that you hated talking to people you didnt know

but to all the strangers? no

they would think you were an outgoing ready-to-meet-new-people extrovert

which was so, so wrong

but ALAS, you had to talk strangers almost everyday living in 2020

(well lets pretend we arent in the middle of a pandemic right now)

moving on......

so you were in high school at the downfall of your existence

you used to have so many friends when you were younger ..now you only have like 3

and those three were always busy (busy making up excuses thats for sure) so you never really hung out with them outside of school

and on one fine evening after school you decided to visit the new cafe 5 minutes from your house

u were really excited because all the cafes were 15 minutes from your house so now u could just walk to this one if u wanted to !!!

but yeah it was in the middle of a small plaza that had cute buildings

you pulled up to the parking lot and was just about to get out the car when u remembered..

u have to talk to the cashier :/

who’s a stranger! even more ://

it was always so weird to you.. whenever you went out you always had someone else order for you because you just hated talking to strangers

you just felt uncomfortable and you couldnt help it

its not like you have never ordered for yourself but you would always prefer not to

and now that you think about it

this is the first time you have gone out by yourself

you did text one of your friends beforehand but they said they “had homework to do”

LIES!!!!

but you really wanted to try the coffee so you just ran with it

time to face your fears!

you opened the glass door to reveal a cute looking cafe, like the ones you’d see in movies

you loved it already

glancing to the cashier you’d have to be talking to—

hold on

you had to do a double take because WOAH.....

the cashier...

he....

wow..

you have never seen a boy like that in your life

you stood there for like 3 seconds before coming to your senses and standing infront of the menu

that was infrONT OF HIM

“hi, what can i get for you?”

HIS VOICE OH MY GOD..!?!?!

“oh um.. can i get a second to .. look..?”

“yeah of course,” he gestured to the menu on the wall above him

hes so nice u almost cried

your eyes shakily traveled up to the chalkboard menu and u began to ‘read’ the options

its like u could feel his eyes on u WTF!!!!

um um um *internally keyboard smashes*

you couldnt even think

the words on the menu were like gibberish

the ONE time u go out by yourself

this had to happen.. of course! someone had it out for you, you were sure of it >:(

picking a random drink you gave him your order

“uh can i have an iced caramel macchiato?”

ITS LIKE YOU CANT SAY A SENTENCE WITHOUT UH OR UM

u cant help but think hes judging you

he looks like that while u are standing there in old sweatpants your dads tshirt

“sure, what size?” he looks into your eyes after putting your order into the machine

god you felt your heart stop

his Eyes..... theyre so beautiful

“oh um regular” you attempted to give a small smile

hopefully it looked like one

“okay that’ll be $5.12.”

you dug out some cash from your bag and handed it to him

he gave u your change and gave u a small smile

“your drink will be out in a minute”

AAAAA

he went :)

he is so CUTE.....?!?!

he looked around your age too

sigh... you knew he was way out of your league though

you were gushing over him but he probably thought you were just another boring customer

while waiting u sat at one of the 2 person tables on your phone

and u IMMEDIATELY went to text your groupchat

‘GUYS’

‘AT THE CAFE NEAR MY HOUSE’

‘CUTEST BOY IVE EVER SEEN EVER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE’

‘WTF IM GONNA CRY HOW DOES HE EXIST’

‘WAIT BRB HE S COMIBBG’

you tried to quickly put your phone down without looking suspicious when you saw him walking towards you with a drink in his hand

“here you go, enjoy” he said before swiftly making his way back to the counter and talking to the other worker there

wow... hes so mesmerizing

you’d steal glances at him every now and then while taking sips of your drink

you were sitting there for like 20 minutes before you noticed you finished your drink

you totally forgot you came here to see how good their coffee was

it was good by the way

sadly it was your time to leave

taking one last glance at him, you threw away your empty cup and walked out the door

wow

u cant believe you got to witness the most beautiful human being ever

in your small town?? crazy

you were sitting in your car just thinking

WAIT

U DIDNT EVEN KNOW HIS NAME!

you mentally punched yourself but then you started laughing

what does knowing his name even matter, its not like u were ever going to talk to him anyway

LOL

*sad emoji*

but the coffee was good so you definitely planned to go back

and not just because of the cute boy

...unless....

*time skip*

the next day you went there was a week later at the same time in hopes that he was working the same shift

AND HE WAS!!!!

score! 1 for y/n, 0 for umm... any other person who had a crush on him too i guess

the cafe didnt have too many people since it was fairly new and also in a small part of the city

so when you went in, you were the only one there along with the two workers

“welcome, what would you like to order?”

NOT THIS AGAIN

he looked even cuter today

his messy blond hair almost covered his eyes

you shouldve forced your friend to come with you this time

you ordered the same thing as last time but this time he asked for your name

hmmm

“um y/n” you answered

your heart was always beating 2 times as fast whenever you had to talk to him

he wrote it down on the cup and after you paid, you went to sit down at the same spot as last time

looking at him is literally the highlight of your day

the same thing happened as last time, he came over and gave you your drink without giving u a second glance

>:((((

boooo look at me cute boy

nonetheless u continued going to the cafe at the same time as much as u could which was like three times a week

literally over a month later and u dont think anythings going to happen

u punch yourself for thinking the boy would somehow find interest in you

hes still indifferent to you which isn’t surprising since you’ve never made any kind of move

ever

but

he should know u by now

hopefully..

*time skip again*

it was a saturday

at this point you’ve basically given up on having a crush on him and now since its become a routine u just say you go for the coffee

not really paying attention to your surroundings you dont notice that the boy at the cash register isnt the normal one you see almost everyday

“hey, what would you like to order?”

woah WHAT

you look up from your bag to notice a boy that was definitely not the one that normally stood infront of it at this time

and you also noticed something on this new cashier

a name tag

how come your old little crush didnt have one????

this new boys name was ‘jay’ and he was fairly cute too

looking around the corner at the other worker u noticed he has a name tag too

you recognized him because he was always working when the cute boy was at the cash register

his name was ‘heeseung’

after taking in these new additions you answered to jay

“oh um.. can i ge-,”

“she gets an iced caramel macchiato. her name is y/n”

??!<_|#%[>~€\£~

you whipped your head around so fast to see who said that behind you

was it who you thought it was ??!??!

YES IT WAS!!!!

OH MYGOD

ITS HIM

you widened your eyes at the boy who wasnt wearing his normal black and white uniform

instead he was wearing black ripped jeans and a gray hoodie

wow....... and u thought he couldnt look any better

BUT OMG?? HE REMEMBERS U

“oh wow ni-ki, you know her?” the boy named jay asked him

“uh yeah.. shes a regular” he said before walking to stand next to you

NI-KI

HIS NAME IS NI-KI OHMHGOD

u thought his name fit him perfectly its so CUTE

“are you gonna get something too?”

this whole time you were silent because.. what is going on

your heart was being SO fast you thought that everyone could hear it

“yup, can i get the same thing? also im paying for both of us”

WHAT??/):)/$;##\%|

ur eyes widened even more it looked like they were gonna pop out of its sockets

u unconsciously leaned towards the boy next you and kind of put your hands up

“w-what?? oh um no, you dont have to do that” you nervously said to him as he looked down at you

he kind of had a smile on his face

“i want to.”

there is no way this is happening

“oiiii ni-ki” jay chuckled while punching in numbers on the cash register

“ill have both of your drinks out soon, you two kids have fun!” jay said before turning around to face heeseung

WHAT??!!??!

your jaw almost dropped from shock

millions of thoughts ran through your brain and you couldnt even process anything

u cant believe this was happening

it was like a wattpad story or something.. is this how u meet ur soulmate

your thoughts were interrupted by a hand on your back momentarily and u look to see ni-ki shyly grinning and gesturing u towards a table

no way...

you awkwardly follow him to a 2 person table next to wall and sit down

you literally could not hear anything except for the pounding of your heart

“uh sorry about that...” he rubbed his neck and sheepishly smiled

“im ni-ki by the way”

“y/n...” u felt so awkward u wanted to cry

“agh, im really sorry if that was weird.. i just didnt know how to ask you out.....” he trailed off

*passes out*

IM JOKING

Ok but u felt ur heart stop bc NO WAY

“wait what??” u ask, ur eyes bigger than the moon

“um yeah... haha i took the day off today to try to talk to you.. sorry if that was weird..”

HE WAS SO AWKWARD JUST LIKE YOU IT WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER

“no its okay!! im glad actually...”

“really? so is it okay if we hang out?” he asked excitedly

u did not think u could handle HOW CUTE THIS BOY WAS O M G...

“of course! sorry if im kind of awkward though” you gave a small smile

“its okay, i think i am too”

you two began talking about the cafe and where you went to school

turns out even though you two lived in the same town (literally 5 minutes away from eachother) u went to different schools for some reason

u talked for like 2 minutes before jay walked up with your drinks

“hows it going guys?”

“its doing good bro, now go away..” ni-ki lightly shoved jay and laughed

you giggled at the sight

jay looked offended and came right back

“that is not how you talk to your elders ni-ki! y/n do you see this?!” he scoffed

ni-ki just rolled his eyes and turned back to you

“do not ignore me young man!” jay joked

“oh y/n, ive heard all about you from ni-ki over here by the way.”

ni-ki’s eyes got so big you almost got worried

he turned around so fast and gave jay one of those ‘i swear if you say anything ur dead meat’ looks

jay obviously did not care

“hes always like ‘y/n this y/n that’ blah blah im glad he finally got the balls to ask you out because im honestly sick of hearing it!” jay laughed

u were blushing so hard

NI-KI LIKED U????

this felt like a dream

ni-ki pushed jay away so hard and turned back with red cheeks

awe

but yeah that was the beginning of the cutest relationship ever

u and ni-ki were so cute together <333

you’d always visit him during ur free time

it took like 2 months before u two made it official tho

and he was the sweetest boyfriend ever

[zimms]

(yet another ollie/wicks ficlet, but this one got slightly out of hand, clocking in at 1.3k for absolutely no reason, so there’s a line break. this is set during the november of bitty’s sophomore year.)

don’t treat him like a mind reader

It’s mid-November when Ollie and Wicky first notice.

They’re on their weekly coffee date at Annie’s, trading sips of each other’s drinks and proof-reading the other’s most recent paper, when Jack Zimmermann walks through the door. Ollie knows that he should probably be on a first name basis with Jack Zimmermann at this point, considering the fact that he’s their team captain and they’ve been attending the same weekly bonding sessions at the Haus since the beginning of freshman year. 

(However, it’s Jack Zimmermann, and Ollie doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the fact that he knows this guy in real life and that he’s met Bad Bob and he’s playing on the same team as someone that will be a shoe-in for next year’s Calder winner no matter which team he signs for and Ollie is an obnoxious fanboy, and this is why he largely steers clear of Jack Zimmermann, lest he embarrasses himself.)

Anyway, it’s a surprise that Jack Zimmermann is in Annie’s for 2 reasons.

Everyone knows that Jack hates paying money for coffee, when he just drinks it black (because he has no taste) and we have coffee at the Haus, why would I buy some extortionate cup of overly sweet sludge?

He’s just had his history class with Bitty, and everyone knows that Jack immediately goes back to the Haus to make his notes from lectures, because Jack Zimmermann works harder than God.

(Okay, so maybe not everyone knows these things, but Ollie absolutely does because these are crucial details in his plan to avoid Jack Zimmermann at all times.

Well maybe the coffee thing isn’t part of that plan; it’s more the fact that Jack complains loudly about it at Team Breakfast, despite the fact that he is a millionaire with more money than Ollie will ever see and can definitely afford an extortionate cup of overly sweet sludge.)

Ollie flicks Wicky’s forehead where he’s leaning over his most recent Econ essay. “Dude, what’s Jack doing here? Shouldn’t he be back at the Haus, making his obscenely perfect notes?” His eyes tracked Jack’s movements as he ordered two coffees and made his way to a table. “Hold on, is Hockey Robot Jack Zimmermann on a date?”

Wicky frowns at Ollie’s fingers as they come away from his forehead, and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes flick up to Jack’s table. “Nah, he’s probably waiting for Bitty; he’s tutoring him in French this semester.”

As if on cue, Bitty walks through the door, evidently having been challenged by Jack to a run across campus and evidently having lost, despite being the fastest guy on the team. Ollie watches as he grins at Jack and makes his way to the table, not looking at the barista once. 

“Huh,” he mutters, “you were right.”

Wicky’s head snaps up, affronted. “Why do you sound so surprised? I literally saw them here last Tuesday.”

“Why didn’t I know this then? I’m always here with you.”

Wicky rolls his eyes. “Dude, you were at that meeting with your Bio professor; the reason I was here is because I was literally waiting for you. They’d just left by the time you were done discussing carbohydrates or mitochondria or whatever it is you do in Bio.” Ollie grins at him; STEM professors always rub Wicky up the wrong way; it’s a side effect of being forced to go to a science specialist high school when you have no interest in STEM. “Anyway, I’m still trying to work out if they’re doing tutoring or tutoring.”

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Wicky gestures not-so-discreetly at where Bitty and Jack are laughing over their French flashcards. “Look at Bitty; are you seriously telling me that he’s not in love with Jack?”

“No!” Ollie holds up his hands. “You know that I would never deny the fact that the straight boy that Bitty is pining for is Jack, but do you really think that Jack Zimmermann, Hockey Robot isn’t straight?” Ollie watches the aforementioned Hockey Robot grin down at Bitty, eyes softer than Ollie’s ever seen them. “Actually, you know what, Jack Zimmermann isn’t straight. He looks like a fucking movie star out of the 1950s with the way he’s trying to flirt with Bitty over there.”

Wicky stares at him. “That sentence was incomprehensible, but I think I get what you mean.” 

The two of them turn to face Jack and Bitty, as their hands brush together as they each reach for another flashcard. Ollie gapes openly at how Jack Zimmermann’s face flushes red at the contact. “Fuck it, I’m just gonna ask Bitty when we’re at the Haus tonight.”

o0O0o

The rhythm of Beyoncé throbs through the hallway of the Haus and his feet as Ollie knocks on the door of the kitchen. Bitty’s voice struggles to reach over the music as he shouts “Come in!”

Ollie opens the door tentatively and the music goes silent. “Hey, Bitty. I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“Of course, honey!” Bitty whirls around from where he was faffing next to the oven. “What do you-? What on God’s green Earth are you wearing?” 

Ollie glances down at the orange and white striped outfit that Shitty’s making him wear for his dibs, including fins and a tail. “I honestly don’t know. I think it might have once been a tangential joke that Holster made about Ransom being a coral reef that eventually spiralled into this hell. Wicky’s dressed as Dory if it’s any consolation.”

Bitty removes his oven gloves and places them lovingly on the stove. “It is absolutely no consolation whatsoever, but it is quite entertaining.” His eyes roam up and down Ollie’s body (a move that Ollie would have thought was flirtatious if Bitty hadn’t been quite so in love with Jack Zimmermann) and he giggles in that way that only Bitty can. “Anyway, what did you need?”

A slice of pie appears in front of Ollie on a plate. He doesn’t question it; he’s learnt not to question how baked goods suddenly materialise around Bitty.

“Oh, yeah.” Ollie takes a mouthful of pie. “Me and Wicky were wondering if Jack was like tutoring you in French, like how Wicky tutors me in Philosophy?”

(Ollie and Wicky have long since established that they don’t want to be out to the whole team, so they came up with a code word for date night that they can use with the people that know about their relationship, which is basically just Shitty and Bitty, but whatever.)

Bitty nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, exactly like that!” He takes a bite of his own pie. “He’s such a great tutor; he’s so good at French!”

Ah, that clears that up then.

Ollie grins at Bitty. “You know, if you ever want to discuss tutoring, I’m always willing to listen, and I know Wicky is too.” He stands up, wipes his mouth, and claps Bitty on the back. “Good talk.”

“Oh, was that all you wanted to know?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to get back to reenacting scenes from Finding Nemo. Just keep swimming.”

o0O0o

“Yeah, they’re dating.”

“Oh, thank God, for a second I thought that they were just that oblivious.”

(A year later they get a text from Bitty announcing that he and Jack were dating. 

oily: thanks for letting us know officially bro! we were happy to keep it on the dl til u were ready to come out!

candle: thanks in return for keeping our relationship a secret! we knew that you could keep it a secret!

itsy bitsy baker: how did you guys know about us?? i never told you we were dating??

oily: yh, u did??

itsy bitsy baker: 

we didn’t get together until the summer after sophmore year??

also, did you guys say you were dating?!?

candle: yeah, we told you at the end of freshman year, bro. you literally caught us making out in your room??

itsy bitsy baker: i-?? what???)

part 1 part 2 part 3

[spencergourdgourdler]

sleepovers (chapter 1) (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer and profiler!reader seem to be sleeping over at each others places a lot. 

Next Chapter

cw: alcohol?? and none other than that

A/N: This is my first fic ever and I am nervous!! This will be a multiple part series and you will have it all: fluff, smut, and a lil angst. Hope you enjoy and please let me know if i need to add anything to the cw list!

word count: 2k :)

“Here you go, a glass of water for you and a glass of wine for me.” you said as you place his Lego Movie glass down on his desk. Spencer didn’t raise his eyes from the case file he has been reading but didn’t hold back on his comments.

“You really should drink more water Y/N,” which you replied, faking an offended voice. “Hey, I drink enough water, okay?” 

“Funny you say that, because I actually have been keeping track of your water intake. You drank 1.26 litres of water today and with your daily intake of 2 cups of coffee, several cups of tea and well, alcohol I can guarantee you that isn’t enough.” Spencer said as he smirked proudly. 

You rolled your eyes at his smug face. “How- ugh fine Spencer, I will drink more water,” you admitted . “After I drink this glass of wine.” It was your turn to smile now. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and turned to the case file he was studying while you finally got to relax and turn to your book on his nice sofa. 

You have been doing this with him a lot. Hang out. Casually. In silence. You guys would come back from a case, you would carpool to yours or his place and then watch a movie, have dinner (or breakfast, depending on what time you guys land in D.C) or this. You would relax together, enjoying each other's company silently. 

It started after a very hard case, not long before you started and the resident genius offered to take you home because he assessed that you would probably break down, said something along the lines of how dangerous it is to drive while crying. He wasn’t the best or the most experienced driver out there but he wanted to make sure you got home safely. 

You were very shaken up that day, not having seen a brutal murder-suicide happen before your eyes in your life, so you took up his offer and followed after him to the parking lot. Both of you walked quietly to your car and when you got to it you just stood there.Not moving a muscle, just out of it. Spencer was sure he made the right choice to offer his help. Spencer slowly raised his hand and touched your arm slowly. “Y/N, the keys.” You were so zoned out that you flinched when he touched you.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry Y/N, it’s just me. Can you hand me the keys?” said Spencer with the softest voice he can make. “Oh, sorry,” You said with a dead tone then started scrambling through your bag. You couldnt find them. You were sure you were hearing the jingling sound they made as they rolled around your bag but you couldn't get your hands on them for the life of you. That’s when you started crying. 

Spencer wasn’t the best when the case was touching people but he had to get you out of that parking lot and get you to the safety of your home. He shook his hands to remind himself that you were a clean person and he could touch you, then reached for your handbag. He slowly took it out of your hands and put it on the hood of your car. 

“Spen-- Spencer- I’m- I’m really,” you tried to apologise in between you sobs.

“Y/N, shh, I’m right here and you have nothing to be sorry about,” That’s when he wrapped his arms around you and you started sobbing on his very nice sweater vest. He had put one hand on your back that he rubbed softly and one on your head that pushed into his chest like he was trying to get you to hide in there. He didn’t even realise how naturally affectionate he was, but you did. 

The waterfalls that are your eyes were still running but you calmed down a little and the embarrassment of getting your mucus,ugh, on your very new colleague was starting to dawn on you.

“Spencer, I’m fine, let’s just go home, okay?” You managed to muster out while you squeezed yourself out of his embrace and tried to hide your face from him. You reached for your bag and once again out your hands into it looking for your keys. There they were, stuck underneath some papers that you threw in your bag. 

Spencer stood there, doubting himself. Did he cross the line? Was hugging you unprofessional? Did he make you uncomfortable? He had once read a research about hugs calming down the sympathetic nervous system under distress so he tried to help you calm down a little. It wasn’t his intent to make you uncomfortable. Oh god, he thought to himself, now Y/N thinks I’m weird too. 

He was pulled out of his little freak out by Y/N handing him the keys. He pushed his lips together in a really awkward smile and started stepping towards the driver’s side.

The drive was pretty weird. He drove too carefully and there was his colleague silently crying in the next seat to him. His mind was still swarming with the ideas of him doubting his choice of hugging Y/N, her quiet voice took him out of it. “Spencer, I can’t thank you enough. You really helped and I know I’m not very good with words but I really do appreciate this.” 

Spencer was shocked. He wasn’t expecting this. He wasn't expecting a talk at all. So he stammered trying to answer her. “Uh, yeah- yeah, sure,” 

While his conscious mind was going between doubting himself and oh shit, she’s crying, what do i do, his subconscious mind had led him to his house. He realized it when he was at the last traffic lights before home.

“Y/N, I’m afraid I drove all the way to my house,”

She raised her head from her hands on her knees slowly and looked around her, clueless. Spencer was quick to apologise. “I’ll turn around at the next U-turn and we’ll get to your place. What's your address?”

You didn’t want to bother him driving all this way and back, also you were starving and sleepy. “Spencer, if you don’t mind, can we go up to your place? I don’t really wanna bother you with driving all the way to mine, also I am so tired and I assume you are too?”

Y/N kept surprising Spencer tonight. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine- Yeah, we can order takeout too, yeah, yes.” She almost giggled at his nervousness.

He pulled up to the parking spot of his apartment complex and you two silently walked up the stairs to his apartment. He welcomed you in, “So, this is my place, ugh so sorry this is very messy,” 

Spencer was very skittish about touching people and letting people into his place. He did both of them with you that night and he was weirdly okay with it.  

“It’s perfectly fine Reid, hell, looks a lot neater than mine honestly.” You smiled while you awkwardly stood in the entrance. Spencer had already taken his coat off and was walking into the depths of his house. He kinda yelled from across the house, “Please come in Y/N, I will be there in just a second to take your coat. What do you wanna eat? I know this Indian place that makes great chicken tendoori that delivers.” His voice was getting closer and closer while he got back to his living room. 

“Spencer, I am a vegetarian.” you said while he took your coat and hung it over a chair.

“Oh, sorry, I somehow didn’t know, but they should have vegetarian items on the menu, let me go find it for you. Do you want a drink? I have water, coffee, all kinds of tea you can ask for annnd,” He was scrambling through his kitchen cabinets now. “Wine, yeah, what can i get you?” 

“Wine would be nice,” you kind of yelled from the living room. You did not want to yell but you also didn't want to follow him around or go looking for him, invading his place. 

He came after a few minutes, a glass of water and a menu, you assumed, in one hand and your glass of wine in the other.

“Here you go, a glass of water for me and a glass of wine for you, are you sure you don’t want a glass of water?” He put the classes on the coffee table and handed you the menu. “While I’m not completely sold on the idea of you drinking before dinner, what do you wanna get Y/N? I can also call the pizza place that’s close and we can get all the toppings you’d like.” When you thought he stopped talking and opened your mouth, he started to ramble again. “I’m sorry I know I said we could get all the toppings you wanted but I have issues with grouped foods and can we maybe stick to the basics and get a mushroom pizza?” He was embarrassed but you smiled so widely that his embarrassment washed away and his chest filled with relief.

“Yeah, Reid, I’d like that.” 

Thus began your sleepovers. That night he had given you a spare toothbrush, some of his clothes, clean towels for your shower in the morning, and his bed. Genius took the couch that night, “That’s the least I can do,” he said, even after all he had done for you. You would much rather have him beside you but you would never admit to that and he would never agree to it anyways. 

Second time you two had a sleepover, it was Reid who was struggling and you offered your sweet but lonely home to him. This kept going on between you two, there were rarely nights where you slept at your place alone. 

Spencer called you from his grocery store run one day, asked you about your shampoo brand. And would you rather use a vanilla or lavender body wash. 

You texted him asking about his after-shave and razor brand he uses after he slept over at your place and had to go to work with a scruff. You felt bad for people making fun of him and his “big boy beard”. 

Spencer was really glad, while he didn’t have a lot of affectionate relationships like this, he didn’t mind having you around at all. You were really glad, you didn’t go to bed in a lonely house, that you made really good friends with Dr. Spencer Reid.

You finished your wine while flipping pages on your book and your eyelids started to feel heavy. “Spencer, I’m really sleepy,” 

He had moved to the end of the couch with you, you were lying down but your legs were barely close to him.

“I’ll be done in just a second and I’ll let u sleep Y/N,” 

You were feeling the wine and you felt courageous that night. You carefully got up to your knees and crawled towards him on the sofa. When you got to him you slightly nudged his arm to let you in and he lifted his arm to embrace you. “Oh, hi,” he said. “I thought you were sleepy.” Was there a smile in his voice or were you just hearing things? “Yeah, and I am using my favorite pillow.” Stupid wine talk.

He chuckled slightly to my words. “Okay, let’s go to bed, I was almost done anyways. I can finish it up tomorrow.” Now, you felt bad for interrupting his work. Stupid wine.

“Oh, no, no, nooo! I can wait for you to finish, really, look! My eyes are all open,” You opened your eyes wide while you looked up at him in his arms. He chuckled again. Oh, that chuckle. Stupid wine.

“You look a little flushed.” Spencer said while dragging his hand over your flaming cheeks softly. “Yeah, wine does that.” No, Spencer does that, Y/N, don’t lie to yourself. 

His eyes were looking into yours so tenderly that you debated if this was a dream or not. Then something happened that raised your suspicions of dreaming.

He slowly put his lips on yours. Oh, stupid wine. 

Next Chapter

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 10

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support and feedback! I'm so glad you're enjoying this fanfic <333 Feel free to like, reblog and comment. Would love to hear more of your thoughts! Love u guys <3

CHAPTER TEN

Just like last time he was here, Bucky grabbed some cereal box, poured the contents on a bowl followed by a tall glass of milk dumped over, making a mess on the kitchen island like a ten-year-old kid. You just finished changing into some new clothes when he finished pouring the milk in the bowl.

You followed into the kitchen, pouring yourself a hot cup of coffee from Peter's new coffee maker he got just two weeks ago and cleaned the mess that Bucky had left.

"How is it," you started just as he was about to walk out, "that you can flawlessly make a drink without making a huge mess but not with a cereal?"

He plopped down on the couch and placed his feet on the coffee table and turned on the television. He shrugged in response, eating a mouthful. "I was just trying to impress you. You're Peter's best friend. I want you to like me."

You just hummed and sat down on the love seat as soon as you finished, lifting your knee to your chest and letting the warm liquid slide at the back of your throat, letting the caffeine sit in me. You gave him no response as you didn't know what else to tell him. You just gazed at him, watching him like a hawk, as he continued to take a mouthful.

But you weren't staring at him like you did before. You were, somehow, trying to read his mind because the person sitting right now on your couch felt and looked so much different from the person who kept giving you lingering stares at the bar. One moment he was complimenting your photos, and the next your face. It felt like there were two of him and you didn't know which one attracted you more.

No one had ever looked at your photos the way he did. No one had ever talked about your photos the way he did. And no one had ever succeeded in getting a sudden yet fleeting internal reaction from you by calling you "doll."

"It's rude to stare, doll."

Except Bucky.

You apologized, and averted your gaze from him towards the television screen which showed the news channel. You took a huge sip of your coffee and ignored the searing pain of the hot liquid on the roof of your mouth. That's gonna leave a mark.

You hibernated inside your room for the next few hours, watching some sitcom on your laptop. You would hear Bucky yelling at the television screen from time to time or into his phone. Some names unfamiliar to you were mentioned. You hated the feeling of isolating yourself from the world but here you were, cocooning because you didn't know how else to be around Bucky after what happened that one night.

Plus, it felt like you were a child stuck with your babysitter.

He would knock on your door, check up on you, ask you if you needed some snacks, or if you wanted to do anything else besides locking yourself up in your room. The last time he called out for you, he was asking you to lunch, to the little Italian place across the building. Starving, you agreed to come with him only if he paid.

He just shook his head with a smile on his face. "I feel like you're taking advantage of me."

"I am." You said, locking the apartment door behind. "It's not like everyday I'm out with a rich guy."

"You gotta stop calling me that. I'm not rich rich."

"Compared to me, Buck," you said, "you are. Come on, let's go, I'm starving."

Just as you anticipated, Marco was beaming at you two once you entered his place, clearing a way for you, parting the customers like Moses did with the Red Sea. He pulled out two chairs for you and Bucky. Marco, as you assumed, was more than happy to see Bucky and more of his money. Bucky shook hands with Marco, thanking him.

Once you ordered, you turned towards Bucky who was busy looking at the photos of the gorgeous places in Italy on the walls. There was a bridge of silence between you as you continued to stare at him, still trying to read him. He may be an open book but it felt like his pages were complete blanks. Pages that were deep, far away from the cover, hidden and hoping to never see the light of day.

"Hey, Bucky?" you said, grabbing his attention. "What did you mean that night? When you told me I was something else? And please, don't give me one of those 'you're not like most girls' crap." You gave a snort of disgust.

He chuckled, biting the inner part of his lower lip before speaking. "I wasn't, anyway. You just intrigue me, that's all."

You subtly glance at him. "I intrigue you?"

"Yes, honestly you do. And you're fun to be with. It's not everyday someone agrees with me to scare off a one night stand the first day we meet." He laughed. "And I would like to get to know you better. And not just here."

You knitted your brows together in utter confusion. "Wait, what do you mean not just here?"

He shrugged, his eyes leaving yours and looked at somewhere else besides you. "Like outside."

"Like outside?" You repeated, the realization dawning on you. "Bucky, are you asking me out on a date?"

Bucky lifted his head and proceeded to look at the spotty ceiling, his lips curved downward. "If you want it to be."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Then, he shot his head towards you, an agonizing frown marring his perfectly chiseled face. "Why not?"

You could think of many reasons why it would be a bad idea. First, you haven't been on a date for a very long time. Every person who had asked you out never had the luck of receiving a good answer from you. Second, Bucky was a complicated man.

And third, it would feel like betraying Peter.

"You're Peter's stepbrother." You sighed, defeated. "I can't do that to him."

"Right. Peter."

Marco came just about damn time to give you your newly-cooked food. Bucky ordered the same thing he got last time he was here: an Aglio Oglio pasta, paired with two large slices of pizza and garlic bread while you got a footlong Italian sub dripping with Marco's secret family sauce he never dared reveal. Marco said something in Italian before going back to the counter to tend to other customers.

Bucky smiled at you before you started digging in and began to speak. "How about this? Just two friends hanging out, not in the apartment, not here, not even at the bar, and getting to know one another. No funny business. Just like this. How does that sound?"

"As long as you promise not to give me those weird creepy stares you've been giving me since last night."

"Please, you also couldn't keep your eyes off me." He rolled his eyes. "Plus, I do have to admit you do look hot making drinks." He scrunched up his nose, taking a bite of his pizza without his eyes leaving yours.

A wave of confidence surged right through you, prompting you to ask this next question: "Did the whole cleavage thing push things?" You winked.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, just like he did this morning in the apartment, swallowing his food. "I'm not gonna lie, doll, that was also pretty hot."

"You should thank my friend Nat for that then."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to. So, uh, are you in?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, I don't know how you kids these days ask things. Is it like that? I feel like it is."

You rolled your eyes, chucking a piece of garlic bread to his face. "I'm not a kid. By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine next month."

"Thirty-nine." You repeated. "Wow, if we were to go on a date, you'd be the oldest guy I've dated."

"Well, I'd be honored."

After your little lunch, Bucky went back to his office in his penthouse to deal with a few things with his associates while you, on the other hand, headed to the bar and started to fix all the stuff accordingly. A few hours later, Nick and Nat silently creeped up behind you, scaring the shit out of you and nearly making you drop the bottle of whiskey you were holding. You scolded both of them which they just, in turn, shrugged off.

You pulled Nat into one of the booths, making sure you were out of Nick's sight and wouldn't be able to hear you.

"Bucky kind of asked me out on a date." You whispered.

"Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he has the hots for you!" She said with a voice louder than you would've liked.

"Sshh, keep your voice down! I don't want Nick to hear this."

"Oh right, 'cause of the whole thing."

"Yes." You replied. "So anyway, I told Bucky it wouldn't be a good idea because it feels like I'm betraying Parker."

"He's just his stepbrother. Honey, you wouldn't be betraying anyone at all."

"But Parker's my best friend -- "

"Exactly." Nat's eyes bore into yours. "He's just your best friend, not your boyfriend so go date whoever you want to date. Just not Nick. He's kind of a loser."

"Isn't there some kind of code?"

"Like a bro code?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Did you and Peter have an agreement that you shouldn't date his stepbrother?"

You shook your head no.

"Then it's okay."

"Isn't dating your friend's siblings a part of some unspoken rule?"

She rolled her eyes at you, obviously fed up with all the excuses you have been trying to make. "As long as you're not hurting anyone then it's fine."

An exasperated sigh came out of your mouth. "Well, Bucky seemed to kind of agree to it, so what was supposed to be a date turned into just friends hanging out and getting to know each other. His words, not mine."

"Right, and once you get to know each other, you two can go on expensive dates and such."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel right."

"Now, now, don't be too sudden with that thought. Deep down you kind of want this to happen. If you didn't, you wouldn't be having second thoughts about this."

Oh, what you would give to prove Nat wrong but there was nothing else you could give because you knew she was right. You were fleetingly staring at Bucky as much as he did with you. And right from the get-go, there was spontaneity which opened up a whole new thrill in you. Something you never thought you'd ever feel.

The rest of the night felt excruciatingly slow.

There were some familiar faces in the crowd and some unfamiliar ones brought in by the regulars, having fun on Saturday night. While you were taking orders and making drinks left and right, your eyes kept roaming in the nameless faces inside the bar, hoping to see Bucky but your hopes were crushed when you found no sign of him. You were forced to take your mind off him for once as you were flooded with more orders, and complicated drinks that weren't on the menu. In the middle of your shift, there was even a small argument between a college student and a man in his thirties at the pool table. Eventually, the man, assaulting the poor boy, got kicked out of the house by Steve which was just a piece of cake with all the muscles he was packing.

Steve approached you with a stern look on his face. "If you see that guy again, don't let him in anymore alright? I don't want any fights in my bar."

"Got it." You said, taking note of the man's face from earlier. You warned the other bartenders beside you and the waitresses going around. You sighed, thinking to all the times you've told Steve to hire bouncers for the place but he just said:

"What do you need bouncers for when I'm here?"

And it was kind of hard to argue with that because it did make sense. The only problem was he was always cooped up in that small office of his. You never bothered to learn the secrets he was keeping in there. He couldn't always be doing work stuff. But after a few weeks of working with him, it was best to let those things slide as he was your boss.

Once your shift ended, you texted Bucky where he was but you never got a reply. You exchanged numbers right before he went back to the White Wolf.

You were greeted by an unlocked apartment once you got there but there was no sign of Bucky.

"Bucky?" You called out his name as you removed your jacket and placed it on the coat rack just beside the door. "Are you here?"

Silence answered you back. You went into your room and changed your shirt into something a bit more comfortable: an oversized sweater. A few seconds after you changed, you received a message from Bucky telling you to go to the rooftop.

You immediately went up, the chilly New York air touching your cheeks. You emerged from the ladder with a bewildered look crossing your face. The once grimy floor of the rooftop was perfectly cleaned up, leaving no dust and dirt behind. There were two large crates in the middle, big enough for two people to sit on. On top of the crate were a large box of pizza (you assumed it was from Marco's), and two bottles of ice cold beer.

"What on earth?" You gasped, finding Bucky emerging from behind a big box just casually standing against the brick walls.

"Hey, doll." He greeted you with a cheeky smile.

You stepped towards him, enveloping yourself in a hug in an attempt to warm yourself up against the cool air. "Did you clean our rooftop?"

"I may or may not have. Who knows? Anyway, I got us some pizza. I figured you were hungry from your late shift."

As a matter of fact, you really were. Drained from the endless orders and demands, you usually didn't have the time to sneak a bite of food or even a sip of water.

"I got the pizza from Marco's. He's a really nice man and was more than glad to see me when I stopped by."

"Of course he was." you laughed, sitting down on one of the crates. You opened the box, your mouth already drooling from the sight of Marco's mouth-watering pizza. "He likes the dough. Ha! Get it?"

He rolled his eyes at you but with a hint of a small smile in his lips as joined you on the crates. "So, are you gonna spend the night in the apartment?" You asked.

"Yes."

"What, got another girl back in the penthouse?" You teased, nudging his shoulder.

He gave you a throaty, sarcastic laugh. "This time, no."

"Too bad. I was ready to give a performance of a lifetime." You chuckled, glancing at him sideways and catching him with a big smile on his face.

You looked around you. The only source of light you had was the city lights towering above, and ahead of you. "You know," you started, "if you hung those little lights on the walls or just above us, this would seem like a date."

He pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. "Phew, dodged a bullet over there huh?"

You giggled, tipping the cap off the ice cold light beer and bringing the top of the bottle to your mouth. The liquid felt cold in your mouth but soon warmed up, nestling inside your stomach.

"This is nice." you commented then started to ramble on some more. "It'd be nicer to see New York during sunset though. Ever since I got the night shift in the bar, I rarely do. It's all the traffic and bright city lights."

You painted Bucky a picture of the last sunset you've watched. You had no recalling memory when it was but you remembered it as another cold day (but not as cold as tonight). The colorful sunset hues plastered in the high skies. Seeing it from the rooftop felt like they could easily be reached, as if they were wanting to be touched. And without a warning, the sun started to go down millisecond by millisecond.

"To others, what happens after a sunset is just another sign of the darkness to come. And then poof, city lights." you continued, then proceeded to gesture at the sky. "But for me, the feeling after a sunset is what I love the most. The sun wallowed in serenity in the pale break of light in between those dark clouds forming. Ugh, I just love that."

"I see what you mean." Bucky hummed, withdrawing his eyes to the sky to look at you. "It's like an afterglow."

"Yes, like an afterglow." You agreed, meeting his intense gaze. "If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable."

"A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset." He replied. "But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people are some things you can never miss."

You just hummed in response, taking a huge sip of your beer. " So, when did your love for photography start?" Bucky asked.

"It started when I was young." You replied. "I would play around with my parents' digital cameras, take photos of literally everything around me, especially when we were on vacation. It was just a hobby then. I never thought of it as a means of living until I was in college. God, I hated business school. Every second of it. I just did it to make my parents happy but I really wanted to be out there, embracing people, embracing everything in life. It's like -- "

"Capturing people's stories in a different light?" He continued for you, as if reading your mind.

"Exactly." You smiled, quite happy that he saw it the way you usually did.

"If it wasn't for the hotel business I also would've been an artist. Maybe an actor."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because business is all I know." He sighed. "Tony Stark, the guy who adopted me, taught me everything there was to know. As he was building his empire, he pulled me towards it and now, I'm running one of his hotels. Y'know, I don't think of him as a father or anything. More like a friend, a wingman."

And just like that, Bucky peeled himself like an onion. Slowly. Layer by layer by layer. But then he stopped. He opened his mouth to say more but then he decided to stop. You waited but nothing else came out. As much as he wanted to know you, you too wanted to know him — and not just his wild adventures but the things that were deeper than that.

It felt nice to talk to Bucky this way. Actually, it wasn't just nice. It was very comfortable that it gave you a warm sensation on your chest.

Seeing that he wasn't as comfortable as he was before opening up, you steered to a different topic. "Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" you asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

"No," he chuckled, "I don't think so. I'm stuck in a routine, y/n. Business, party, booze, girls. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything's the same, everything feels like nothing after."

You agreed with him. "I guess I'm also stuck in a rut." You harmonized with his laughter, seeing your life flash before your eyes. "Cheers to that."

With that, you drank the night away.

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!Jisung

request:  - anon: Could you maybe write an enemies to lovers like the Chan one but with jisung?? It was so good 😔😔😭🥺💞💞💖💘💘💞💗💞💗💕💞 can it be fluffy and Angsty hehe 😖 maybe where they're both college students -  anon: Can you do a Enemies to Lovers AU with chan!!! Where they're going to college and their families happen to be friends so they get an apartment together to save money, but the first time they meet it doesn't go well. Then yk, slowly w time they fall in love ahhaha... I love your writings btw!! 💓💞💓💝💓💞💓💝 (I recently sent the ask about the enemies to lovers au w chan that involved going to college.. since you literally just wrote an enemies to lovers au for chan if you want you can do my request (if u do it ahahha) with jisung!!)  - anon: I really love how you write au’s/fanfictions. I just want to know if u can write something about han jisung?? maybe a cafe love story or another tattoo artist just like chan? or maybe a studio date night?

genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, college!au, roommate!au, tattoo apprentice!jisung lol (fluff, a bit of angst) 

pairing/s: Han Jisung / Reader ( ft skz Bang Chan and nct/wayv/superm (lmao)  Lucas )

word count: 18k 

tw: I talk about like kind of sad stuff when jisung has like an artist’s block in this I guess 

a/n: thank u anons for being so patient with this request!! I rly hope that I managed to do it well and that you guys are satisfied with the outcome n have fun reading it hehe, it was kind of inspired by the song sunshine!! by stray kids so I hope that it gives u the same good vibes I got from the song while writing this :( ok bye 

If it were any other person standing in front of you, maybe you wouldn’t have regretted having an outburst in the café for the morning crowd to see.

The fight, or outburst (if you wanted to relieve him of any role in the exchange), had started rather simply. You were just having one of those days where it was raining outside, you were awake even before roosters were (in your opinion) and you had wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and sleep into the evening.

You had gone to grab your morning coffee, combating against the rain with your multi-coloured umbrella, as one does. Shoving the doors of the café open, you were met with shouts of names and storms of people squeezing to collect their orders. The whole ordeal would’ve made you pretty at ease if it weren’t for the coldness of your feet and the way your umbrella would cause someone to slip soon if you didn’t move.

Your shoes squelched against the shiny wood floors of the café, each step making you cringe as you waited anxiously to reach the front of the line, desperate to put an end to this experience. Thankfully enough, your order was pretty straightforward, so you’d collected it quickly, the small smiley face drawn on the cup by the staff serving to put you in a slightly less dreadful mood.

Stationing yourself at one of the empty tables you’d spotted by the exit, you set your still-dripping umbrella on the floor before you tried to get your tissues out to salvage whatever you could of your shoes. Shrugging off your coat, you’d draped it over the back of the seat.

Glancing at the time on your phone before you shoved your notes aside within your bag, you’d pushed your arm forward and opened your bag harshly, taking your box file out of your bag, almost nicking yourself against the broken corner of the file in your rush.

The next sequence of events happened quickly, and too ‘all-at-once’ for you to process. Upon taking out your box file, you’d heard a yelp behind you, followed by harsh footsteps and the splash of coffee on your box file.

Letting out a loud yelp of surprise as the person in question had stopped their fall with a loud thud of their hands against the pillar in front of you, they’d turned to you with wide-eyes, their eyebrows quickly furrowing into an expression that looked utterly ticked-off, their mouth already opening to speak.

You’d seemed to beat them to it, hurriedly grabbing your tissues to wipe down your file, checking for any brown-stains on your precious papers.

“What the hell,” you scoffed, casting a glance up at the boy. He had stood slightly taller than you, with rounded eyes and a defined nose, his lips pressed into a firm line.

He looked fairly young, from the way he dressed in brand-name basics to the way he was practically decked out in accessories. Call you biased, but if this was a senior or a child, you’d probably have let them off with it. But the way he was looking at you now was somehow successfully unnerving you, and you supposed admiring his annoyed features was about the last thing you should be doing at the moment.

“‘What the hell’?” He echoed your words, “who’s the one that chose to stand in the middle of nowhere to go through their damned bag?”

Your eyebrows raised in offence, your annoyance from before making itself known as you frowned, your grip on your bag tightening, “oh, and it’s my fault you have poor coordination?”

The boy had narrowed his eyes, mirroring your expression, his bracelets shifting on his wrist as he gestured at your umbrella on the floor.

“Your stupid umbrella was the reason I tripped in the first place,” he told you pointedly, strangely making you even more annoyed that he chose to attack not only you but your innocent umbrella too.

Your volume raised involuntarily with your frustration, “it’s so bright! It was basically screaming at you that it was there,” you defended, attracting a few customers attention with your outburst. You didn’t understand why you had to go through this so early in the morning when you were already irritable beyond belief.  

The boy seemed to have noticed this as well, discomfort washing over him at the feeling of the crowd’s stares. Ultimately deciding he would rather give up the fight with the crazy stranger from the café and leave before he was late for his job at the tattoo studio.

“Whatever,” he huffed, leaving the café, the bells at the doors jingling loudly as it swung back.

Something about the apology just wasn’t enough for you, (maybe you just expected more because he irked you) but you were already late enough for class. Rolling your eyes, you’d slung your bag around your shoulder with a thump, gripping your cup in your hands tightly and picking your umbrella (that now had an evident crease in one of its panels) up before running to class.

Your mom had called you halfway through the day while you were on your way to classes, the gesture enough to make you huff good-naturedly at her insistence.

“Hello?”

“Hey, honey, is this a good time?” her tone was practically dripping with motherly concern, making you let out a breathy laugh, nodding even though she couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, It’s fine,” you told her, “but anyway, I think my umbrella’s broken. Some idiot at the café this morning practically destroyed it with their stupid combat boots.”

Your mom didn’t seem to pay much attention to your rant, cutting straight to the point that she’d called you for.

“Have you met Jisung yet?”

You sighed as you entered the auditorium for your next lecture, lowering your head slightly as you found a seat around the middle of the hall.

“No, not yet. I’m only going over to the house after my classes end, remember? But I heard my stuff already got moved there,” you explained to her, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you took your laptop from your bag, setting it on the table gently.

“Oh, do you want his phone number? To make things easier for the both of you,” she offered, earning a disinterested hum from you.


Your mom was more than excited about the fact that you would be 1. Not living in a residence within the school and 2. Living with the son of one of her friends from college. You figured your duty as her child now would be to appease her and at least try to live out her desires for you. Which in this case was sharing an apartment alone with some boy you didn’t even know. Maybe your mom was just a little more trusting than most.

You shrugged, “yeah, sure, just send it to me.”

Your mom let out a squeal, “I’m so excited for you to meet him, honey, he’s such a nice boy. You two are sure to get along. I’m so happy you agreed to this.”

Letting out a small sigh, you leant back in your seat as you held your phone with one hand, your other hand going to unlock your computer.

“I still feel like I’m imposing on them,” you hummed.

“Honey, it’s fine, Jisung’s parents insisted that you didn’t have to pay any rent.”

You hummed patronisingly, it wasn’t as if it was the first time she was telling you this, “yeah, uh-huh,” your attention was momentarily diverted by the tall boy that was standing next to you, gesturing to the empty seat with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry, is there anyone sitting here?”

Your lips parted, “okay, mom I gotta go I’ll call you once I’ve settled into the apartment.”

You did a once-over of the boy, who shook his head to get his bangs away from his eyes, giving you a wide smile. Gesturing for him to go ahead and sit down, he’d flopped down onto the seat with a sigh.

Letting go of his bag strap as he turned around, he gave you an appreciative nod as he opened his bag, pulling out a notebook and pen.

“First day, huh,” his voice was deeper than you’d remembered it to be from just seconds ago, his hand coming up to cover his growing smile as a little giggle escaped him, “I’m Lucas.”

“How’d you know?” You hummed, “and my name’s Y/N.” You swore you’d never seen a boy with such sparkly eyes before in your life.

Lucas shrugged, leaning his folded arms on the desk and turning his head slightly to observe you in your confusion, one hand shifting to play with his earring, “haven’t seen you around before.”

“You talk like you know everyone in the school,” you scoffed.  

Lucas didn’t seem to sense your sarcasm, simply giving you a shrug, “possibly. And also because it’s my second time taking this stupid class so I should know an unfamiliar face when I see one,” he told you, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Your eyebrows raised, hearing the doors at the bottom of the auditorium open, a short stocky man walking through and making his way to the speaker’s desk.

“Second time? Why?” You hummed, keeping your gaze on the man in anticipation for what he was about to say.

Lucas cast a glare towards the professor, “I thought he was boring so I didn’t really go much for his lectures the last time, you know, because I thought they weren’t graded. But he decided to include them as passing criteria way too late.”

Lucas pointed at the professor, his sleeve riding up slightly to expose a tattoo at his wrist. You were starting to wonder if everyone at this place had tattoos, the sight seeming fairly common from just your few hours in the school.

You winced, nodding, already getting the sensing that this man was someone you needed to be on good terms with.

“Alright, class, enough talking. From now on, I’m the only one that should be talking so I expect nothing but your full attention from here onwards.”

This was going to be a long lecture.

===

Your mom had texted you the Jisung kid’s number, and you’d dropped him a text saying you were on your way to the apartment, getting a reply from him that he was on his way there as well. You figured he seemed pretty polite, from the way he texted you, so you guessed that helped in making you dread the whole arrangement less.

When you’d reached, you’d ended up at an apartment building that looked fairly plain, walking in to the lobby and scanning the sparsely decorated notice board for residents, the last thing put up being a picnic for families that was 3 months ago.

Stepping into the lift, you’d noticed that though it was relatively well-maintained, it seemed rather dull, from the prison-grey lights to how the mirrors were covered for maintenance. Thankfully, your apartment itself was relatively well-maintained (you remembered your mom telling you the apartment was previously being rented out by Jisung’s parents), aside from the space being a little not-so conducive. But well, they were letting you live here for free, so you couldn’t complain.

Setting your things down onto the sofa in the living room, you moved to examine the respective rooms, frowning when you realised that whoever Jisung was, he’d taken the room with the bigger bed, his clothes either already hung up on the clothing rack or stacked up on his bed.

Walking into what you assumed was your room now, you tried to envision how you could make this space more conducive. From moving the bed aside to switching the desk out to the living room for more light, you tried out different permutations in your head, your time as an amateur interior designer cut short when you heard the rustling of keys at the front door.

Smoothing your hair down to make sure it was neat, you’d dodged the boxes of stuff as you leant over the sofa, curious to see what this Jisung kid would look like.

Jisung had done the same outside the door, making sure his hair and clothes were somewhat presentable before pushing the door open. And immediately wanting to close it back.

“You’re Jisung?”

“You’re Y/N?”

The two of you spoke simultaneously, disbelief and shock written over your features as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

Like you mentioned before, maybe if the boy at the café this morning wasn’t Jisung, you would’ve regretted your actions a lot less.

Jisung gave you a look of disbelief, stepping into the apartment and folding his arms across his chest, his bag still hanging from his shoulder. He couldn’t wrap his head around how unlucky he must have been to have had such a bad encounter with someone he was about to spend probably his entire college life living with.

He sighed deeply, “now I don’t feel like paying the rent on your behalf anymore.”

You rolled your eyes, “your parents are paying the rent, not you. You have no say in it.”

Jisung made a sound of protest, shaking his head vigorously, his eyes widening in his aggravation.

“No, they aren’t. I told them to let me take care of it because I felt bad for them. But I don’t feel bad for you, so you’re gonna have to split the rent with me.”

Your lips parted, fumbling for a response.

Jisung’s expression was expectant, provoking you almost, “what? Would you rather get an apartment on your own? ‘Cause I’d be more than happy to let my parents know.”

You wanted to cry. It was already the start of the school term so staying in the dorms was out of the question for you already, the deadline having closed long ago. And you knew that finding another apartment in the school district that was within your budget was going to be a pain in the ass. So as much as you hated to admit it, splitting the rent with Jisung was your best option. You needed to get a job asap.

You rolled your eyes, “well…well then why do you get the bigger room?” You huffed, mirroring his stance as you folded your arms across your chest.

Jisung gave you a mocking pout, “simple, ‘cause I got here first,” he brought his hand up, inspecting his nails.

“You should be glad I’m not charging you extra for inconveniencing me,” he added.

Not being able to help but let a small gasp leave you, you were quick to respond, “inconveniencing you? You were the one that got coffee all over my file.”

Jisung shrugged, “potato, potato. Doesn’t change the fact that you made me late for work.”

You clenched your jaw, watching with a glare as he strolled past you, gesturing to the space in the living room which you’d been planning on using as a work area, “I have dibs on this space.”

You frowned, mumbling, “I wanted to shift the desk in my room out here, though.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Wanna consider moving out now?”

You inhaled deeply, brushing past him to grab your luggage that contained your clothes.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you huffed in annoyance as you walked into your room, his laughter echoing behind you.

===

“How can you say that? Jisung is a very nice boy,” your mother cried, making you roll your eyes, glaring at your phone from where you were hanging your clothes up.

“He’s the idiot that I fought with at the café, it’s not like I’m saying this without reason.”

You heard your mom sigh deeply, conversing with your dad about something in the background, “try to put your attitude aside for once, please, I’m begging you.”

You groaned, kicking your luggage aside before you made your way over to your bed, flopping down next to your phone with a loud sigh, wincing at the feeling of the springs in your mattress. You were so sure Jisung’s bed was more comfortable.

“It’s not me that has the attitude, it’s him,” you mumbled, sulkiness evident in your tone.

“Enough, Y/N," she said sternly, "If I hear anymore complaints you’re really gonna be in for it.”

You kicked at your blanket, “fine, goodnight. Love you.”

You hung up, staring at your desk as you contemplated on whether to move it into the living room now or tomorrow, distracted from your thoughts when you could hear the water running, not to mention the awfully loud sound of Jisung singing in the shower.

How thin were the walls? Your glare had shifted to your door now.

“Can you keep it down?” You shouted, hearing a silence on his end momentarily. Heaving a sigh of relief, you turned around in your bed only to hear him resume his singing, except this time, you swore it got louder.

Burying your head under your pillow, you kicked at your blanket, hoping this was the worst it could get. It wasn’t that bad, right? You could deal with simple shower concerts. Maybe living with him wasn’t going to be as hard as you thought.

===

Safely to say, you should’ve thought otherwise.  

The very first time you realised you'd underestimated Han Jisung, was when you'd gone to the fridge to fix yourself something for dinner, only to find post-its on every single one of the items that read : 'property of han jisung! not for y/n'

You'd moved to look for something else to eat that was unlabelled, only realising then that he'd even gone to the (very petty) extent of labelling the snacks in the cupboard.  

Huffing, you'd shrugged your coat on, grabbed your wallet and made a trip to the grocery store.

Cursing him in your head as you shoved your items into your basket, earning yourself looks of scandal from the elders who were for whatever reason still in the grocery store, though you couldn’t be bothered to look more amiable. You’d wanted nothing more than to throw out Jisung’s groceries, but of course, you were a nice person, so you wouldn’t do that. It seemed like you just couldn't get a break when your phone had begun to buzz in your pocket.

"Hey, mom," you hummed, trying not to sound too tired lest she started to drill you about resting. You brought your groceries over to the self-checkout aisle, heaving them onto the small platform with a grunt.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

You huffed, "we didn't have enough food, so I went to buy some groceries." Biting back your tongue, you rolled your eyes, scanning your items and bagging them angrily.

"How's finding a job been?"

You shrugged, Lucas had told you about various job openings nearby your house, (surprising you with how much he knew about the area) one of them you were looking into was a simple job at a café near your apartment. Thankfully, not the one that you'd had your little ‘encounter’ with Jisung at.

"Pretty alright, nothing too difficult,” you hummed, fumbling to pull out your card so you could make your payment, ignoring the stares you were getting from the people queueing up behind you.

"Alright, that's good to hear."

"Everything alright with you and dad at home?" you asked, shoving your card back into your wallet before slinging the bags onto your forearms, beginning to walk out of the supermarket.

"Yes, of course. Don't worry about us, we just miss you."

You sighed, something about the night air putting you in a drowsy mood, "me too. I never realised how much I liked living with you guys till now..."

"Don't tell me you're still having a hard time with Jisung," you heard her tone, your knew that this was her way of implying she didn't want to hear anything other than that you and Jisung's housemate experience was just peachy.

"Don't worry, mom, everything's... fine."

You'd tugged your coat closer to yourself, giving her whatever updates you figured she'd want to know before hanging up, enjoying the peaceful walk before you reached your apartment, figuring this was as much peace you were going to get before you returned to the apartment to be met with his stupid antics again.

And surely enough, the evening breeze accompanied with the sounds of faint conversation from the restaurants nearby had started to put you in a rather drowsy mood, making you start to contemplate if you were even still hungry, the lure of sleep starting to seem more tempting.

Reaching your apartment building, the lift lobby illuminated by a harshly bright lightbulb, you’d bumped into one of the ladies living on the same floor as you exited the lift on your floor, watching as her eyes widened in surprise, giving you a small smile as she enquired.

“Oh, are you the resident from apartment 19B?" you nodded.

If you were drowsy before, you sure weren't drowsy anymore.

You flinched slightly when her expression had changed in an instant, her once amiable expression now replaced with an annoyed glare.

"Can you please refrain from singing so loudly in the middle of the night? Some of us are trying to sleep."

Your eyebrows raised, shaking your head as you slot your keys into the keyhole, opening the door just a crack, "oh, sorry, that's not me that's my housemate—”

The middle-aged lady had narrowed her eyes at you, "you know, It's not ethical for someone as young as you to be living with a man when you're so young—”

"Okay, sorry, won't happen again!" you told her quickly in your attempt to appease her, shoving the door open and slamming it behind you, turning around only to see Jisung standing in the living room, dressed in loungewear with black gloves on his hands as he pointed at you in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"Aw, I'm not the only one that thinks it's not ethical for you to live here," he pouted.

You rolled your eyes, "I can't believe she thought I was the one singing," you huffed, going over to the kitchen to see yet more dishes in the sink.

Pointing at them with a look of disbelief on your face, "are you not gonna clean these either?"

Jisung turned around, looking at the sink with evident contempt, shrugging. He held his hands up to you, showing you that they were currently gloved.

"I'm a little busy, why don't you do me a favour this once? Consider it compensation," he grinned, making his way back to....your room?

"What are you doing in my room?" you asked, shoving the last of your groceries haphazardly into the fridge before you'd followed him into your room, shutting your mouth quickly when you saw that he’d practically set up a work station next to your desk, looking closer to find that he was using what looked like tattoo equipment.

“Practicing,” he shrugged.

You didn’t bother asking what his business using tattoo equipment was, simply huffing in exasperation, “and you had to do it in my room, of all places?”

Jisung nodded, pushing one of his sleeves up on his shoulder, revealing a rather big tattoo on his arm that was partially hidden by his sleeve.

“This is the only room with an accessible plug and a good enough space to work in.”

“Then why didn’t you just take this room as your bedroom?” You were dumbfounded at the way he was so nonchalant about his actions, the buzzing of the tattoo needle resuming as he practised on fake skin.

“I like to sleep in a comfortable bed,” he shrugged, leaning back to look at his tattoo.

“And you think I don’t?” You shot back, your hands going to your hips, his reply coming just as quick.

“Well, for $300 bucks above the rent maybe you can,” he smirked, using a tissue to rub at the fake skin, looking at you as he poked his tongue in his cheek, quirking his eyebrows before turning back to continue tattooing.

That night, you remembered asking Lucas if he knew who Jisung was, since he’d mentioned how he was pretty into tattoos, having a few of his own, his reply only making you wonder if the world was just small or you were just unlucky.

lucas wong

8:53pm - oh yeah I know him! he’s apprentice-ing at the tattoo shop I usually go to, he’s pretty good-

8:53pm - why? do u like him? I cld put in a good word for u-

You sighed deeply

8:53pm - no thanks im good-

Little did you know, the next time Lucas had visited the the tattoo studio, he’d spotted Jisung working on his designs at one corner of the room, going against your request and disturbing Jisung even despite how he looked like that was the last thing he wanted, too focused on the shadings of his chrysanthemum flower sketch on his tablet to have paid attention to Lucas' entrance.

“Hey, do you know anyone named Y/N?”

Jisung’s face scrunched up in distaste, looking up at Lucas and hoping desperately that he was joking, “don’t tell me… freshman Y/N?”

Lucas nodded, his eyes lighting up in excitement, “yeah! So you guys do know each other.”

Jisung made an uncertain sound, “I wouldn’t call it much of a relationship. Y/N’s my housemate.”

Jisung’s words had sparked a realisation in Lucas, the latter only piecing together your disdain towards Jisung with your stories about your ‘asshole housemate’

Lucas’ silence had caught Jisung off guard, making Jisung look up at Lucas expectantly, “sorry, you wanted to go get something to eat, right?”

Lucas nodded, masking his shock with a smile, recovering quickly.

“Wait, lemme go call Chan,” Jisung murmured, beckoning the boy who was currently snacking at the reception area.

“Where do you guys wanna go?” Lucas asked, earning a hum from Chan.

“I kinda wanted to get a smoothie,” Chan admitted sheepishly, though thankfully, Jisung and Lucas didn’t seem to have a problem with that.


“Why didn’t you wanna go to the other café? They’ve got better smoothies,” Lucas wondered out loud, making Jisung snort.

“We’re only going there because Chan has a fat crush on one of the baristas.” 


Which was what ended them up at the café you worked at.

The moment they had entered, you noticed your colleague tense beside you, bending down to pretend to take something from below the counter. 


“Shit, they’re here. Oh my god, help,”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “who?”

“That cute tattoo artist guy I was telling you about!” She whispered harshly, standing up and greeting the boys with a smile, her heart eyes directed particularly at one of them with curly hair.

Only then did you realise Lucas and Jisung were there, receiving an overwhelming feeling of wanting to bang your head into the cash register. You already saw him enough at home, and now you had to see him at work too?

“Hi, how may I help you?” You smiled at the curly haired boy, casting a glare in Jisung’s direction, the boy looking equally as dismayed to see you here.

“Hello, can I get the berry smoothie?” He asked, and you stepped aside, letting your colleague ring up his order while you prepared his drink, giving it to your colleague to serve since she’d spent so long talking to him.

Lucas had mouthed a ‘sorry’ to you when he’d gone to sit at one of the tables with Chan, Jisung lingering at the cashier as your colleague went to the backroom to squeal.

“What do you want?” you wore a bored expression.

Jisung looked almost too focused, his eyes glaring at the laminated menu between the both of you.

“I changed my mind, I want a drink too.”

You suppressed your urge to roll your eyes, your finger scratching at the corner of the cash register, “you couldn’t have ordered it like five seconds ago?”

Jisung shot you a look, “yeah, well I didn’t want it five seconds ago.”

Inhaling deeply, you’d gestured to the menu, and now not only was your expression bored-to-death, but your tone was too, "what do you want?”

“I want an iced americano,” he told you, pausing before he added, “and ask your friend to make it. I don’t trust you not to spit in my drink.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, “good call.”

Ringing up his order, you’d called your friend, dismissing any thought of ever having a normal encounter with Jisung.

Upon returning to his table, Chan had given him a look, "Lucas told me you know the cashier."

"Not the one you think is cute, don't worry,” Jisung sighed, glancing in his drink just for good measure.  

Chan's eyebrows lifted in amusement, "so the one you think is cute?"

Almost instinctually, Jisung replied, "yeah," paying more attention to his drink than his words. Looking up when he heard Chan and Lucas struggle to stifle their giggles.

"What?"

Lucas clapped his hands together, his smile wide, "you just said Y/N was cute."

"No, I didn't, you did." Jisung shot back quickly. It was obvious that retaliation didn't always have to make sense for him.

Chan had a curious glint in his eyes now, the corner of his lips quirking up into a smirk, "I mean, you guys do live together right, and you've really never thought anything about her?"

“I did, I thought her nagging was annoying as hell,” Jisung shrugged.


Chan narrowed his eyes at Jisung, an amused smirk on his face, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

Jisung gave Chan a pointed look, "I'd appreciate if you wouldn't stir shit, especially not in front of him." Jisung pointed at Lucas.

"You didn't answer the question," Lucas sing-songed.

Jisung scoffed, casting a furtive glance towards your direction where you were smiling as your colleague showed you something on their phone.

Jisung shrugged, it wasn’t as if you looked bad or anything, with his pride, he’d probably have told Chan that you were pretty if he squinted.

“Guess if they smiled more they'd be...decent."


Lucas raised his eyebrows, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him very much, “decent, huh.”

Chan leant back in his seat, shaking his head at Jisung, "now I feel like I have to make you my apprentice for relationships too."

Jisung scoffed, regaining his usual confidence.

"If by that you mean you want me to stand at the counter giggling my ass off like how you did with that cashier then no thanks, I'm good on my own."

===

You'd tried your best to tolerate Jisung, especially after Lucas fed you some story about how he takes a while to warm up to people (which you totally bought).

This tolerance came in the form of things like waking up earlier to use the bathroom so the both of you wouldn't have to fight in the morning, or giving him reminders to do the laundry or clean the dishes but only doing them after he forgot the third reminder.

Jisung usually forgot to turn off the lights whenever he went to sleep (though sometimes he did it on purpose, not liking the eerie darkness of the house when the lights were off), so you would always end up waking from the glare of the lights that seeped into your room, stepping over the mess of clothes or socks (sometimes even shoes) in the walkways and turning them off for him instead of nagging him about the lights. See? Tolerance.

Call you a pushover or whatever, but you kind of prided yourself on how your well of patience seemed to run deep. Very deep. Deeper than the average human, you supposed, even.

However, days like the ones you were having now, just didn't seem to let you draw from that well of patience.

You'd started off your shitty morning when you'd slept through your alarm, needing your usual work clothes but realising that Jisung hadn't done the laundry, leaving you with no choice but to grab the nearest hoodie you could find on your bedroom floor and sprint to work.

If that wasn't enough, you'd landed cashier duty as punishment for being late, your social battery starting to empty not even halfway through the day. Your 'hi, how may I help you's slowly turning to 'what would you like's to eventually 'hi's and ending up with a small smile and gesture towards the menu.

It didn't help that Chan, the tattoo artist your colleague had an obvious thing for, had shown up halfway to try and strike a conversation with you about Jisung, much to no avail.

“Aren’t you wondering why Jisung isn’t here?” You remembered him asking, to which you’d shook your head.

“Not really,” you shrugged, earning a thoughtful hum from Chan.

“Really? You’re not even the slightest bit curious?”

You had shook your head at him then, remembering the way he looked so shocked to have made you even more curious about why he was asking you this in the first place.  

By the time you were done with your work, you'd wanted nothing more than to just go home, take the longest shower of your life and curl up in your horribly uncomfortable bed. Except you couldn't even do that, because you had unfinished readings for your class the next day.

You figured if you sat yourself at your desk with no distractions you could be done sooner and go to sleep sooner, but your one distraction had just come home from the tattoo studio and was somehow getting on your nerves even more today.

Not only had he been acting as if he was the opera community's 'next big thing', he'd proceeded to seat himself on the sofa behind you, watching whatever show he was into loudly, seeming to find whatever the protagonist was saying to be too hilarious to just enjoy the show silently.

You figured you could handle that much, you know, having to live up to your preachings on tolerance, deciding to breathe deeply and suppress your urge to tell him to shut up, and soon enough, he'd disappeared.

But your joy was short lived, once again, when Jisung came back out, singing as he made a snack for himself and proceeded to eat it right in front of you, the smell growing more and more distracting.

Now, he was now lounging on the sofa in the living room, headphones on and connected to his laptop that rest on his stomach, but still typing away with his phone not on silent, the keyboard sounds distracting you from your reading. You figured, maybe your well of patience was just closed today.

“Hey,” you called. No response. If anything, the silence of the apartment had made his typing sounds even louder.

“Hey, oh my god, can you like put your phone on silent or something?" You tried again. Still no response, now, he was humming in between his pauses before he would type another burst of words on his phone.

Deciding you had to take matters into your own hands, you stormed over to where he was, your book still in your hands as you stood in front of him, making him turn to you with wide-eyes.

Pulling his headphones off of his head, he frowned, "what?"

“This,” you gestured pointedly towards his phone, “put your phone on silent, it's distracting me."

Jisung would've complied, though a part of him couldn't help but be annoyed by your nagging, his instinct prompting him to act defensively, “why don’t you just listen to some music or something? Then my typing sounds wouldn’t be a problem,” he told you dismissively, making you groan in frustration.

“I can’t study with music, it’s already hard enough for me to focus as it is.”

Jisung was annoyed, “It’s just a typing sound, what are you getting so worked up for? You’re always getting on my back about everything when I’m just minding my own business."

You let out a groan, "look, it's been more than a month, and i'm up to here with your shit," you held a hand way above your head for emphasis, any of your tolerance long gone out of the window (which he had also left open, making the apartment chilly and noisy).

Jisung's eyebrows knit in a frown, your outburst coming as a shock to him, "fine, whatever. I'll put my phone on silent, chill."

You shook your head, your gaze firm and unwavering, "no, I wanna make rules."

Rules? Jisung wanted to scoff. What was this, a second-grade classroom?

Jisung stared at you in shock, nodding dumbly. "Rules....oka-alright, yeah. Let's make rules."

You nodded firmly, "first of all, if you're gonna make food at ungodly hours in the morning, eat it in your own room."

"And the dishes, clean up after yourself," you added, gripping your book tightly in your hand.

“Stop leaving your shit in the corridors,” you continued, “and pack up your shoes it’s such a mess at the door way I can barely walk into the house,” you huffed, feeling as though with every rule you made you were finally letting your feelings be heard.

Jisung wracked his brains for a rule of his own, finding ways to regain control over the situation, "well, I have a rule too! You gotta stop nagging me to do shit," he sat up, setting his headphones on the sofa cushion.

You let out a tiny gasp, "excuse me? I only ask you to ‘do shit’ that you should be doing."

Before you could get carried away, you continued, "and as for the laundry—”

Jisung perked up, “okay, how about this. I do the dishes and you do the laundry," he suggested with a forced smile, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair, which fell back against his forehead gently.

"You know for a fact that that’s not the same, so we'll switch," you told him, "you do laundry on one week when I do the dishes, and the next week i'll do the laundry and you do the dishes. Fair, right?"

Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, "whatever."

At the mention of laundry, Jisung glanced over at what you were wearing, frowning at the familiarity of his hoodie.

"Good, now that we have an agree—”

"That's mine," he pointed at your stomach, making you look at him in disbelief.

"Huh?" Your stomach? Your hands found their way to cover your stomach.

"The hoodie. It's mine."

You looked down at the hoodie you were wearing, a frown evident on your face. You didn't know what he was talking about, you had this hoodie since you were in high-school, it couldn't be his.

"No, it's mine. I had this since I was in high-school," you frowned, unsure if this was some sort of joke he was trying to play.

Jisung couldn't hide his amusement, letting a laugh slip from his lips, "yeah, so did I... which is why I know that that's mine."

You scoffed, "it was on my bedroom floor," you mumbled, seeing him nod patronisingly.

"Because I left it there," he told you, enunciating his words slower, shocking you when he'd reached over and grabbed you by the sleeve, raising your hand up for you to see.

"Look, this stain. It's tattoo ink. I would know because you're wearing the wrong hoodie. New rule, don’t wear my clothes.”

You stood silent, huffing as you removed the hoodie, leaving you in your shirt and sweats, tossing the hoodie at him in annoyance, the smirk on his face making you even more annoyed.

"Fine, take your stupid hoodie, I don’t wanna wear your stupid clothes anyway,” you huffed, “and you’re on laundry duty this week."

You didn't finish your readings that night.

===

You would like to think your rule system was working pretty well, seeing as you didn't find yourself butting heads with Jisung as often as before.

Halfway into the semester, you had grown busier with your assignments, which had managed to take your attention away from Jisung.

Though you were certainly more tired than usual, from attending birthday parties of friends to working, to rushing your readings during any free time you got (not to mention squeezing in any bit of sleep whenever you could), to rushing through your assignments just to meet the packed deadlines. But you couldn’t complain, this was typical for any college student you knew.

But of course, that didn’t mean you weren’t itching for a break, eyeing the semester break on your calendar that was fast approaching, letting yourself get carried away during classes with Lucas as you both planned on your pieces of scrap paper all the things you’d wanted to do during the break.

Similarly, Jisung had grown busier at the tattoo studio, and Chan had recommended him to a music producer that was interested in hearing Jisung's compositions.

Jisung was more than thankful that Chan had given him that opportunity, of course, but what was bothering him was the pain-in-the-ass creative block he was beginning to struggle with.

Not only was he struggling to find inspiration for a song he'd wanted to make, but the process seemed almost painfully slow, with how he'd fumble around with ideas that he would start on but eventually scrap, deciding that he 'wasn't feeling it'.

He'd started receiving commissions for tattoo designs, and you'd noticed he wasn't at home as often as he was before because he'd made it a point to coop himself up in the studio to try to churn out these design requests.

Fortunately, his customers were always satisfied (and he thought that was great, you know, with all the good words from Chan he was getting), but he wasn't.

Chan had seemed to sense this too, making sure to check in on Jisung more than usual during this period.

"Hey, I'm heading home a little earlier today, you'll be fine alone?"

Jisung's head lifted when he heard Chan's voice, pulling one of his earbuds from his ear as he nodded.

Chan glanced at Jisung's papers scattered around him, of half-done or halfway-abandoned sketches, giving him a look of sympathy, "don't work too hard, alright?" he huffed, glancing out of the window.

"I heard it might rain tonight, so make sure you get home before the rain hits, alright?"

Jisung waved Chan off, not paying any care to the impending rain as he bid Chan goodbye, continuing to tap his pencil on the table in his search for good ideas.

Maybe he needed to consult a lifeline.

"Hello, Lucas?"

The said lifeline was more than happy to hear Jisung's voice, having heard from you that he wasn't home as much recently, a part of him concerned as well.

"Hey, man, what's up?"

Jisung hummed, "wanted to ask if you had any ideas on what tattoos you think would be cool."

Lucas snorted, "you're asking me? You could draw a turd and i'd want to get it tattooed. Dude, you're too good, just go with your gut."

Jisung let out a whine, "my gut's not being very useful right now."

Lucas hummed, letting out an urgent grunt of surprise, "I know! Why don't you take a look at your older designs, maybe they'd give you some vibes or something."

Jisung shrugged, figuring this was probably the best advice he was gonna get, thanking Lucas before hanging up.

Picking up his tablet, Jisung had scrolled through his various sketches until he'd reached the very first few designs, sighing at the sight of the sketches, looking at his first sketch of a peony flower, with leaves dangling along the stem wedged between the budding flowers.

Jisung figured he wouldn't let his dissatisfaction subside until he tried doing a better rendition of the sketch, to refine the shading or the flow of the shape from what he'd learnt from Chan overtime.

Putting back his earbuds in, he turned his music up, beginning to work on the sketch, riding on the motivation he was afraid would disappear at any given moment.

Jisung was surprised at how fast he was done, ( only to look at the clock and realise he wasn't that fast and that it was already a little past midnight ). Removing his earbuds and going back to the sound of the whirring air conditioner and the loud sound of rain thumping against the gravel outside, Jisung knew he was done for.

He hadn't brought an umbrella with him, and the rain frankly didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon, Jisung contemplated his very limited options.

Was a binder enough to shield him from the rain? Probably not. But was it better than putting down his pride to text you to come and pick him up? He thought the binder was better, honestly.

Deciding to try his luck anyway, he'd sent you a text.

Little did Jisung know, you'd dozed off on your bed while reading, the vibration of your phone next to your face having woken you from your nap, the sound of the rain outside harshly thumping against the window.

han jisung 12:37am -hello, housemate. it is your housemate, han jisung. its raining rly badly. wld u be so kind as to come to the tattoo studio with an umbrella for me pls :D-

You frowned in annoyance, your eyes barely open as you replied him. There was no way you were going to send yourself out in the thunderstorm like that.

12:37am - no. just wait until it stops raining-

Thinking that had settled your worries, you'd shoved your phone underneath your pillow, deciding you'd let yourself sleep in since tomorrow was a Saturday after all.

You should've known better, that this was Jisung, the 'i'm tougher than a little bit of rain' Jisung, so you should've seen it coming when you'd woken up to the sound of his incessantly ringing phone.

Rolling out of your bed with a grunt, you'd pushed yourself off of the bed, ready to confront Jisung about not answering his phone.

Walking across the corridor and pushing his bedroom door open, you'd been met with an empty room, frowning as you walked over to the bed, picking the phone up and stopping the alarm.

You noticed that he'd received a few texts from Chan, not being able to help yourself from reading them.

chan 1:20am - dude! why didnt u just wait for the rain to stop?- 1:22am -  ure gna fall sick…-

Frowning, you made your way into the living room, spotting Jisung curled up on the sofa with his blanket at his feet, an instant feeling in your gut that something was wrong.

“Jisung?” You called, seeing his eyebrows furrow slightly.

In spite of yourself, you’d walked over to where he lay, your hand coming out to nudge at his shoulder with his phone.

“Hey, are you…alright?” You watched and waited as he opened his eyes slowly, blinking at you in a daze. There was perspiration beading at his temples despite the coolness of the apartment, giving you more reason to feel like there was something wrong.

As much as you didn’t like him, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were responsible for him, and it was kind of your fault that he’d walked back in the rain. You glanced at your brightly-coloured umbrella leaning against the wall, figuring there was something about this umbrella that always got you into trouble with Jisung.

You suppressed your hesitation, bringing a hand up to his forehead, Jisung not even daring to budge even an inch as you pushed his bangs back. The back of your hand pressing against his forehead gently, your breath hitching at the sheer heat of his body.

This was probably the most contact you’d ever had with him in your months of living together, and Jisung knew this too, not knowing how to feel about the concern you were showing him, feeling as though it was some kind of ridiculous fever dream.

“You walked home in the rain didn’t you?” You murmured, your feeling of guilt growing as you saw him nod at you.

You cursed inwardly, “do you have a thermometer?” 


Jisung shook his head, attempting to get up, “it’s fine, I can take care of myself, just give me my phone.”

You handed him his phone, ignoring his previous statement as you went into the kitchen in your search for any kind of medicine you could give him, cursing once again when you realised there was none. Trust the both of you to only care to buy groceries.

“We don’t have jack shit in this house,” you groaned, walking over to the bathroom, finding a cloth and a small pail to fill with cold water, bringing it over to the coffee table and setting it down next to the sofa.

“I’ve gotta go to work,” Jisung sighed, though he made no move to get up, a part of him just waiting for you to refute him so he could use you as an excuse to get off work.

You shot him a look, “no, you don’t. Shut up and lie down, I’ll go and buy your stupid medicine. If I come back and you’re not here I’ll kill you,” you warned, missing the way Jisung had complied happily, lying back down with his head on one of the sofa cushions.

Squeezing the water from the cloth, you may have slapped it a little harshly on his forehead, earning an annoyed glare from him.

Walking to grab your wallet, you cast one last look at his bored face, seeing him rush to close his eyes when he saw you glaring.

“I mean it, you better stay here.”

Jisung nodded, waving you off.

On your way to the pharmacy, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a good thing that Jisung was sick.

In terms of your pros, if he was sick, he wouldn’t be able to annoy you, right? And him being sick meant that you’d basically had your desk and your bedroom to yourself, with him unable to practice tattooing in your room and use your desk as his sketching station.

In terms of your cons… well, you were planning on getting some rest today, and having to watch Jisung meant you would technically have to be near him, wouldn’t you? You were starting to wonder if that was even a con that he was basically giving you an excuse to laze around and watch tv.

“Hi, how may I help you?” The pharmacist asked.

You hummed, “uh…do you have those over-the-counter medicine and stuff for like someone with fever?”

The pharmacist nodded, pulling out the various boxes and pointing at each one, confusing you with the sheer amount of names she was listing, resulting in you just choosing the one you recognised your parents telling you to take whenever you were sick.

Making your payment, you swallowed whatever pride you had that was making you hesitate. You figured Jisung falling sick was karma for that text you sent him the night before, so you decided that you were going to see him recover for yourself.

Upon returning to the house, you’d shrugged your jacket off, making your way over to where he was, sitting on your heels next to where he was so you could gently peel the cloth from his head, replacing it with one that was soaked in colder water.

You’d drawn back slightly when you felt Jisung flinch as you laid the towel on his forehead, opening one eye to look at you, “that was fast.”

You rolled your eyes, shushing him as you took the medicine out, along with a glass of water you’d gotten from the kitchen, bringing it over to him with an expectant look.

Jisung took them from you wordlessly, swallowing them down as he averted his gaze from you, unsure why you were looking at him like some kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, reaching over to grab the television remote in an attempt to calm your nerves, “this is kind of my fault. Since I didn’t go over to the tattoo studio yesterday.”

Jisung took a moment to process what you said, wincing as he let out a (fake) cough, only serving to make you feel even more guilty than you already were.

“Are you actually…apologising to me?” Jisung’s smile was poorly hidden behind his hand, making you roll your eyes, your guilt ever-present when you looked at him.

Jisung sighed, deciding to let you off this once, “seriously, it’s no big deal. I didn’t expect you to come, anyway. I was just trying my luck,” he told you, making you frown, your mouth forming a slight pout.

“I was just being petty, I’m…” you trailed off, shaking your head, “yeah, whatever, I’m just really sorry.”

Jisung looked at you with a hint of a smile on his face, taking his lower lip between his teeth as he nodded. He wasn’t sure if it was his fever, or the way your gestures were exuding warmth, but Jisung swore just for a moment. A second, almost, he kind of thought you looked cute.

Jisung nodded, “I’ll let you know by the end of the day.”

You frowned, turning away from the television to face him, your back resting on the sofa slightly, “let me know about what?”

Jisung kept his gaze fixed on the television, bringing his hand up to scratch at his collarbone, hints of his tattoos peeking out from his neckline.


Shrugging, Jisung’s gaze shifted to meet yours, “if your apology is accepted.”

You were sure that your mom would’ve just laughed in your face if you told her about your experience today, as you began to realise just how much you didn’t hate Jisung’s company when the both of you weren’t trying to fight each other.

In the few hours that had passed alone, you’d learnt much more about him than you had bothered to in your months living with him. You’d learnt that he was a music major, that wanted to pursue a career in music production, and that he’d gotten interested in tattoos when he’d met this kid named Changbin in his class, who introduced him to Chan for an apprenticeship.

As for Jisung? He was just learning that you weren’t as intolerable as he thought you were.

You’d ordered food for the both of you, Jisung having refused to eat porridge, and you were currently having an actual, comfortable conversation with him, the hallmark movie playing on the television long forgotten.

Jisung’s phone had started to ring, interrupting him mid-sentence as he told you about how the tattoo studio works, making you lean over to check who it was.

“It’s Chan.”

Jisung grimaced, “speak of the devil,” he scoffed. Shaking his head vigorously as you made to grab his phone, Jisung set his chopsticks down hurriedly to reach for his phone, only to grab air when you’d answered the call.

“Hello?” You heard Chan speak, an urgency to his tone.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Jisung is…not feeling so well right now.”

Jisung shot you a look, bringing his hands around his throat with his chopsticks held between his fingers, acting as if he was so sick he was about to pass out, making loud coughing noises in the background.

You couldn’t help but smile, scrunching your nose and waving him off in your attempt to get him to stop before he choked on his food.

Chan sighed, “Is he, now? Tell him I’m shifting today’s appointment to next Wednesday. Anyway, thanks, Y/N, bye,” he hung up promptly after.

You gave Jisung a grim look, setting the phone down slowly onto the coffee table, “Chan said he’s shifting your appointment to Wednesday.”

Jisung’s lips parted, almost forgetting his cheeks were full of food, tilting his head back to groan.

“Chan’s gonna kill me.”

“Why?”

Jisung shoved more food into his mouth, chewing slowly, “I totally forgot, I was supposed to do this girl’s tattoo today, but cause I’m, you know, sick,” he gave you a pointed look, “I can’t do it.”

“You do tattoos already? I thought you were still just…”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “what? Still just tattooing on fake skin?”

You nodded sheepishly, earning a sigh from him, though you didn’t miss the small smile on his face.

“I’ll have you know, I can tattoo people now. You know Lucas’ tattoo of the angel looking mermaid hybrid type thing?”

You hummed in thought, his description oddly specific yet successfully helping you visualise the tattoo, gesturing to your forearm, “the one he got here?”

Jisung nodded, “I did that for him.”

Your eyes widened, impressed at the scale of Jisung’s detail in his design, remembering how enamoured you were with it when Lucas had first showed it to you.

“Lucas’ been asking me to get a tattoo with him once the break starts,” you mentioned casually, earning a surprised hum from Jisung.

“Oh,” his eyes widened, as if he was still trying to process what you said, “really?”

You nodded, “still thinking about it, though. Haven’t really decided on what I wanted.”

Jisung scooped the last of his food into his mouth, giving you as nonchalant a shrug as he could muster.

“Well, uh, you know, if you want or something you could come one of the days during the break, I could show you some stuff I think you’d like.”

You nodded, the simple suggestion somehow exciting you.

That night, you’d gotten ready for bed, having made sure Jisung ate his medicine before he went to sleep.

Before you could move to switch the lights off, he’d stopped you/

“Wait, like…can you um… leave the lamp on?” You raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless, figuring this was your chance to repent while he was sick.

“Goodnight,” you murmured, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn.

“Yeah, night…” he murmured, inhaling deeply, “oh, and Y/N?”

You frowned, “uh-huh?” Looking at him expectantly, your breath hitched at the sight of the small smile that made its way on his face, the moonlight casting a calm glow in the room that mirrored his expression.

“Apology accepted.”

You smiled, nodding before you left. Hopefully this meant things were looking up for your relationship.

===

After that day, it was as if something in your dynamic had shifted, you found that Jisung was giving you lesser and lesser reasons to be annoyed at him.

Lucas had gotten a kick out of it when you’d told him about it.

“You guys finally realised it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to each other?” You remembered him telling you.

You would beg to differ, though, because with this shift in dynamic came a whole lot of awkwardness, especially when one of you had done something mildly nice for the other person.

Take this instance, for example.

You’d been sitting at your desk, trying to finish up on your essay that was due that week, not wanting to let your motivation subside without making full use of it (also because you knew if you didn’t do it now, you’d procrastinate and stress out when you realised you were behind time).

You’d been able to faintly smell Jisung’s noodles that he was cooking in the kitchen, making you sigh. You didn’t like eating things after you had your dinner, but you couldn’t lie and say that they didn’t smell great.

Expecting to hear his bedroom door shut and feel the smell of the noodles get fainter, he’d surprised you when he made his way over to you, setting a mug containing a hot drink on your desk.

Turning to him abruptly, he’d flinched back, looking at you with wide eyes as his hands flew up over his chest, making you laugh.

“I’m not gonna hit you, calm down.”

Jisung relaxed (albeit hesitantly), one of his hands coming up to grip the back of his neck, gesturing towards the mug with his other hand.

“Go ahead, I uh…didn’t poison it or anything,” a huff of awkward laughter left him.

You glanced from the mug to him, nodding slowly, “thanks.”

“Don’t, you know…sleep too late, and stuff,” he told you, earning a nod from you.

He nodded back at you, giving you a close-lipped smile before practically jogging back to his room, the door shutting a little louder than usual, a yelp of apology echoing after.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t try to to be nice to him either, but frankly, he wasn’t giving you many opportunities to do so.


Jisung was still keeping his worries to himself, with his creative block seeming to have spiralled him into heavy feelings of anxiousness and a lack of confidence in his abilities.

You figured that things had been weighing heavy on his mind when you realised he’d been intentionally keeping the light on more often when he slept, or how the typing sounds of his keyboard would get more frequent as it got later into the night.

You’d even had Chan pleading for you to check up on Jisung every now and then once you noticed that he’d been sleeping a lot more and eating at irregular intervals. Listening out for his humming every now and then, you noticed the melodies seemed to have taken a more slow-paced, almost melancholic turn.

One night, you’d decided that if Jisung wasn’t going to give you opportunities to be nice to him, you would just create them for yourself. Making a determined trip to the kitchen, you’d boiled his favourite type of instant ramen, having seen how he made it so many times you knew just what to add in.

Padding over to his room, you’d knocked on the door before pushing it open slightly, watching him straighten up where he sat on his bed, setting his iPad down beside him, his thigh blocking it from your view.

“Hey, I uh…here,” you cut to the chase, Jisung was quick to find something to put under the pot on his bed, opening it and looking at you wordlessly.

“Figured the both of us could use a break,” you shrugged, oblivious to the way your words had stirred something within Jisung.

“What were you working on?” You asked, scooping some noodles into a bowl for Jisung and handing it to him.

He’d taken the bowl from you absently, his eyes widening at the mention of the sketch, unconsciously pushing it further behind him.

“Nothing, I was just doodling.”

Jisung had no idea how to explain that he had been trying to design something for you, something that reminded him of you. Because frankly, that was the only thing that seemed to be pushing his creative block aside at the moment.

“Can I see?”

Usually, Jisung would’ve fought you ( to the death ) before he’d let you see his unfinished designs, but there was something about your demeanour that made him feel like it was okay to show you. That it was okay to tell you that it wasn’t perfect because something inside of him just told him that you would understand.

In spite of any rational fibre in his being, he’d picked up the tablet, giving it to you as he continued to eat the ramen, his gaze never leaving your expression, oblivious to your scrolling as he was too busy gauging your reaction.

“These are all really pretty,” you told him, scrolling until you’d reached the bottom, clicking on one of the drawings and flipping the screen around to show Jisung.

“I love this,” you told him, earning a surprised hum from him.

He saw that you’d clicked on the sketch of the peony that he’d tried to refine that day he got rained on, wondering what made you choose that out of all his designs, since he was probably the least satisfied with that one.

“Are you sure? What about this one?” He took the tablet from you, scrolling back to the design he was working on, making you hum thoughtfully, eventually shaking your head no.

“I like the other one better,” you told him, earning a confused hum from him.

“Why?”

You scoffed, frowning at him, “why are you so against it? You’re the one that drew it,” you took the tablet back from him, holding it against your shoulder before shaking your head, setting it back down onto your lap.

“Besides,” you murmured, zooming in to admire the shading on the flower, “I think it’s beautiful.”

Jisung’s expression was unreadable, unsure how you had such strong appreciation for something he thought was his worst work, something about the way you praised it making a strange feeling that he couldn’t place build within his chest.

It was like before, the feeling of comfort, that he didn’t have to worry about any kind of creative block that could be thrown his way because you gave him a different perspective on his abilities.

You know, the cliché, hard-hitting feeling that ‘everything is gonna be okay’.

“Do you have anything happening during the break?” You asked, earning a shrug from him.

“I’ve gotta submit my song to Chan’s music producer friend.”

You perked up at the mention of Jisung’s song, “have you thought of what you wanted to do for it yet?”

Jisung shook his head, letting out a deep sigh, “it’s been kind of stressing me out, to be honest,” he admitted.

“I like…I don’t wanna give him something that doesn’t show what I’m capable of, you know?”

You nodded, “I understand…I wish I could help you but I don’t really, you know, know how,” you fidgeted with your fingers, hearing him grunt in dismissal.

“It’s fine,” he mustered a confident smile, “nothing I can’t handle.”

And for a moment, you really would’ve believed that he’d gotten it handled. Leaving him to continue with his work as you got ready for bed.

You had almost anticipated to hear typing sounds as you did every night these days. But unlike the other nights, Jisung didn’t very well feel like being alone with his thoughts that night, not even wanting to type them down. He craved the feeling of being okay, of feeling like he still had time and didn’t have to be anxious or feel shitty about his mediocre work.

So it had come as a surprise to you when you’d heard the gentle knock at your door that night just as you were about to drift into a half-asleep state, hearing the door open and watching as Jisung made his way hesitantly over to where you were.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You heard him let out a shaky breath, and you didn’t need to ask him further, giving him a small hum of approval as he’d pulled the small heated mat from under your bed and made himself comfortable next to your bed.

Jisung let his head hit the ground gently, a deep sigh leaving him as he closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to leave the lamp on?” You mumbled, hearing him hum.

“No, it’s fine,” he told you, strangely not feeling much of a need for it now that he had you near him.

The both of you knew better than to speak more, the silence seeming to have made you understand how he was feeling. And as he lay there, with your presence in the room, Jisung felt alright, and so did you.

That night, there were no typing sounds.  

===

Contrary to yesterday, you'd started today on a good note. Having bumped into Jisung the next morning after he'd gotten ready, meeting in the hallway when you were still dressed in your sleepwear, you couldn't help but smile.

"Morning," he murmured, a small smile on his face as he gave you a little wave, leaving promptly to meet Chan at the tattoo studio.

You didn't have work today, and you'd arranged a meeting with Lucas to hang out, the boy not seeming to want to waste anymore time when he'd finally arrived at the mall, practically bounding over to where you were waiting at the fountain in the atrium.

"So, have you thought about it yet?" he asked you, extending a hand to help you up.

Frowning, your lips parted in confusion, "thought about what?"

Lucas gave you an unamused look, as if you should've known what he was talking about. Pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, he'd raised his hands as he gestured, "you know, about what tattoo you wanted to get."

You made your way to a bubble tea outlet that Lucas wanted to check out, pestering you to go with him as part of the things he’d wanted to do during the semester break.

You couldn't help but laugh at the realisation, feeling awfully giddy at the thought of yesterday.

It was just a simple interaction, yeah, whatever, but no one said there were rules on what could make your heart flutter and what couldn't. All you knew was that whatever happened yesterday, did.

"Yeah, I did," you confessed, huffing with a smile on your face.

Lucas didn't know whether to feel afraid or happy that you were so quick to decide this time, looking at you in concern, "okay...so, what did you decide on?"

You pursed your lips, your smile disappearing, "I don't have a picture with me, it's on Jisung's ipad. But it's really pretty, it's like this drawing of a flower," you explained.

Lucas' eyes widened, his hand coming up to cover his mouth in a poor attempt to conceal his growing excitement.

"Oh, it's one of Jisung's stuff?"

You nodded, not seeming to understand why he was so happy about that, "what?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, "you and Jisung seem to be on pretty good terms recently, huh.”

You scoffed, shrugging because it wasn't as if what he said was a lie.

Lucas leaned closer to you, "have you been smiling at him more these days?"

You frowned at his question, shrugging at him nonetheless, turning your attention back to the menu board, "yeah, I guess."

Lucas' giggles escaped him like bubbles, nodding at you knowingly, “perfect. You should definitely keep doing that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “questionable advice, but I’ll take it. Anyway, when are you planning on getting it done?"

Lucas straightened up, lifting his phone slightly to check the date.

"I made an appointment for Chan to do mine next Tuesday," he told you, “have you asked your parents yet?”

You nodded, “they weren’t as supportive until they found out Jisung designed it, they just told me not to get anything I’ll regret.”

Lucas couldn’t miss his opportunity to tease you, “well, I’m sure if Jisung’s doing it, the last thing you’d do is regret it.”

Shoving him aside and ignoring the way he’d burst into a fit of giggles, you ordered your drink, and Lucas’ as well once he calmed down enough to point at what he wanted on the menu.

“Maybe you should text him and ask about when you can book him?” Lucas gestured to you with his drink, his leg bouncing absently as he looked around the small outlet, the group of high-school girls in their uniforms sitting next to your table giggling as he’d skimmed over their table.

“Do you think that’d be too much? Should I just ask Chan instead?” You glanced at him for a sign of approval, “but then if I ask Chan would it make Jisung think I don’t want him to do my tattoo?” You wondered out loud, your stream of thought proving to be fairly amusing to Lucas.

“Just text him, it’s not that deep,” Lucas sipped on his drink.

“Nah, you know what? I should just ask him later at home, I shouldn’t bother him when he’s at work,” you shrugged, earning a sound of dismissal from him.

“Texting him would be a lot faster, you know.”

You shot him a look, “why are you so insistent on me texting him?”

Lucas scoffed, “why are you so against it?” He shot back.

Giving him a look of feigned annoyance, you’d set your phone down onto the table, staring blankly as Lucas had turned it to face him, unlocking your phone and going to Jisung’s chat.

“How should I start? ‘hey baby’—”

Your eyes widened, about to snatch the phone back from him when he’d pulled it towards himself in time, shooting you a look of feigned confusion.

“What? Too mild?” He laughed.

Sighing as he calmed down from his laughter, he shook his head slowly as he typed out a message, “man, you’re so bad at this,” he murmured.

“What makes you say that?”

Lucas pressed something on your phone with finality, scrolling up as he showed you your previous texts with Jisung. Texts like:

1:09pm - dont eat my chips get ur own - or texts like


10:11pm - keep it down! Im trying to study -

Jisung 10:11pm -well so am I!-

“All you guys ever text each other for is to ask each other to do things, how can you expect him to like you if you’re always telling him to separate his lights and darks?”

You took the phone back from Lucas with a huff, “leave me alone. And who said anything about wanting him to like me?”

Lucas looked as though you’d just asked him an obvious question, looking almost scandalised at your denial, “really? You went from ‘oh, I don’t wanna bother Jisung at work’ and ‘oh, heehee me and Jisung ate ramen together yesterday night’ to ‘who said anything about my big fat crush on Jisung’?”

You huffed, “that’s inaccurate.”

Lucas chewed on his tapioca pearls harshly, making sure you heard the smacking sounds of his chewing to unnerve you, shaking his head at you matter-of-factly, “it’s pretty much-what’s the word, ah! Verbatim. That.”


You rolled your eyes at him, wondering how the high-school girls sitting next to you still managed to find Lucas an absolute dreamboat despite how intentionally ridiculously he was behaving.

The truth is, Jisung wouldn’t have cared if you’d ‘bothered him during work or not’. He probably would’ve jumped at the notification of your text.

After the night before, Jisung couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of comfort that flooded him at the thought of you. Finally getting enough inspiration to work on his song when he’d gotten home, even despite the pounding in his head and the sheer fatigue from the day that had passed.

Call him whatever you wanted, but Jisung couldn’t shake the feeling of reassurance he got with you, and it was a feeling he never thought he’d be experiencing as deeply as he did now.

From how familiar it was to hear your voice (even if it was asking him to fold the laundry), to how the smell of your perfume would awaken him on certain days, just in time for him to start his routine for the day. In small things, like how whenever he was looking for a break from work, somehow he’d find it with you.

He’d been working on his song for hours now, though he’d kept letting his gaze wander to the door in anticipation, wondering what was taking you so long to get home. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were still with Lucas, his imagination running wild with all sorts of scenarios that could have taken place to warrant you coming home so late.

Jisung brushed the thought away quickly after he found himself going to your contact on his phone, setting it down quickly as if it burned him. It was fine, you were an adult (he figured), you didn’t need him to hound you about a curfew.

Deciding to work on his lyrics for the song, he’d typed away on his laptop his ideas, his mind seeming to always gravitate to thinking of you as he read what he’d typed down.

Satisfied with the amount of work he’d gotten done for that day, Jisung had let his head lean back against the armrest of the sofa, his legs bent as he lay on his side, letting his eyes rest from all that staring at his glaringly bright computer screen.

You’d gone for a late-night movie with Lucas to end off your day, having gone home later than usual, though you didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if you had a curfew anymore.

You managed to reach your apartment as stealthily as you could, since the walls were really that thin and you didn’t want the old lady from next door to get on your back for being noisy when she was trying to sleep or whatever again.

Shoving your keys into the keyhole, you frowned when you saw that the lights in the living room were still switched on, spotting Jisung lying on the sofa with his eyes closed, his head lolling to the side as he dozed off.

Going into your room (in stealth mode, again), you’d set your things down quietly, deciding to take a shower and get ready for bed before anything else. Suddenly everything seemed to be a thousand times louder than you were used to. You were sure Jisung hadn’t been getting much quality sleep recently, so seeing him dozing off on the sofa had only made you want to ensure that his sleep continued uninterrupted.

Once you were changed into your sleepwear, you’d gone into Jisung’s room, taking a soft blanket from his cupboard and bringing it over to where he was, draping it over him till it reached his shoulders. You couldn’t help but find how peaceful he looked to be rather endearing, wishing you could do more but knowing there wasn’t much else you could do.

Jisung considered himself a good actor, because on the inside he was far from peaceful. He’d awoken at the feeling of being covered by the blanket, the back of your fingers grazing against his arm slightly.

His heart had fluttered, extremely, at the gesture, though something in him was yelling at him not to open his eyes, wanting to savour the moment for himself. It felt warm, a comfortable kind of warmth, the kind you would want to bask in for hours after being in the cold for so long. Something like a ray of sunshine.

Jisung was convinced he was going mad.

Switching on the lamp at your desk so that the living room wouldn’t be in complete darkness, you’d switched off the lights in the living room, bidding a silent goodnight to Jisung in your head before you’d gone back to your room, leaving Jisung dumbfounded.

===

“What did you say the song was called, again?” Chan had asked Jisung on Tuesday morning, looking at him with an endeared smile.

Jisung felt shy for some reason, pressing his lips together firmly as he averted his gaze from Chan, preparing his equipment as he waited for you and Lucas to arrive.

“Sunshine,” Jisung told him.

Chan huffed, his smile growing bigger, “I like that,” he hummed.

“What’s it about?” Chan asked, pulling his phone out to check for a text, “also, Lucas says they’re nearby.”

Jisung shrugged, “what’s it about?” He echoed Chan’s question, as if not knowing for himself either, something about him seeming fairly preoccupied, “it’s kind of hard to explain.”

Chan nodded in understanding, glancing at the way Jisung fiddled with the practice sketch he’d done of Y/N’s tattoo, twirling it around in his hands and anxiously glancing towards the door.

“Nervous?”

Jisung’s head shot up to look at Chan with wide eyes, “huh?…” he nodded slowly, “yeah, kind of.”

A small smile played at Chan’s lips as the boy had finished up the stencil for Lucas’ tattoo. “Is it because it’s Y/N?”

Jisung let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, duh,” he mumbled, “I mean, yeah, I’m nervous because she’s the one getting the tattoo but more like…”

Jisung shrugged, “I still don’t understand why she chose this out of all the designs I had.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, the jingling of the bells at the door followed by a loud guffaw of laughter signalling to him that the both of you had arrived.

“You should take more pride in your work,” Chan pat Jisung on the back, almost sending the boy stumbling with the sheer force behind the hit. Though Jisung couldn’t very well pay attention to the pain in his shoulder once he saw you with Lucas.

Lucas was quick to shove you towards Jisung, going over to one of the beds with Chan as they discussed the placement of the tattoo.

Jisung was almost uncharacteristically tense, leading you over to the station across from Lucas and Chan, holding the stencil up for you to see, “you’re absolutely sure you want this?”

You rolled your eyes, nodding, “yes, I’m sure.”

Jisung nodded slowly, albeit hesitantly, at you, “have you figured out where you want it?”

Lucas had perked up at that, butting into the conversation despite being across the room, “we were thinking between two places.”

Jisung hummed as he’d gone over to take the tablet containing a form for you to fill out before he got started.

You shushed Lucas quickly, accepting the tablet from Jisung with a nod of thanks, “yeah, I was thinking between here,” you gestured under your collarbone, “or here,” you gestured to your shoulder, just above your shoulder-blade.

Jisung nodded, “which do you feel more comfortable with? I think both are alright.”

“I was thinking maybe here?” You held a hand over the space under your collarbone, earning a nod from him.

“Alright,” he murmured, taking the tablet from you once you were done and quietly gesturing for you to lie down.

In your haste to get it over with, you’d almost completely forgotten about the placement of your tattoo, Jisung quirking an eyebrow at you and letting a huff of nervousness escape him.

“Sorry uh, I hope you don’t mind,” he murmured, pulling the collar of your shirt down to expose the area you’d wanted tattooed, making Lucas (who was watching intently) snicker from where he sat.

You’d felt heat creeping up to your neck, making you stretch your neck to look elsewhere, deciding to focus on the black pipes lining the ceiling, your shyness reducing your voice to a mere mumble, “yeah, sorry.”

Your nerves had built up even more with how tense Jisung was, even as he had disinfected the area and transferred what looked like a blue-ish outline of his sketch to your skin, making you almost want to writhe in your place with how nervous you were growing.

However, once you’d heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun, it was as if you were transported into your room, the familiarity of the sound making you less nervous, simply anticipating the pain that you’d associated with the tattoo to occur.

It was a wonder you hadn’t even been able to think much about the pain of the tattoo, though, because you were too busy trying to ignore Jisung’s proximity to you.

He was a stark contrast from Chan, who was making conversation with Lucas throughout the process, whereas Jisung had simply loomed over you, a tense knit to his brow and his lips pressed tightly together. Just by your expressions alone, people would have thought he was the one getting the tattoo.

This was only so because Jisung was struggling, with the smell of your perfume making him feel more awake than ever, and not to mention the pressure to make sure the tattoo turned out well that weighed heavy on him. Everything about you was so familiar, yet everything about the experience was not, and it was driving Jisung crazy with the amount of tension it was making him feel.

“Are you okay?” He asked, gauging your face for any sign that you were in too much pain.

You wanted to laugh, “This is like the fifth time you’re asking me that,” you told him.

“Can’t help it,” he told you, and you swore you saw his cheeks start to tint pink, “just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know…since it’s your first tattoo, and all.”

You nodded reassuringly, “it’s fine, just keep going.”

Jisung nodded, “I’ll be done quicker than you know it, I swear.”

You continued to distract yourself with the sight of Lucas across the room, Chan having to bring the needle back whenever Lucas couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“I’m sorry, It tickles,” you heard him tell Chan, making you have to stifle your laughter.

“Can I ask you something?” You decided that maybe talking to Jisung would help time pass faster (and less awkwardly).

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, shifting his chair slightly to get into a more comfortable position.

“How many tattoos do you have?” You asked, earning a long, reflective hum from him.

“I got a few in the time after college started, I would say about 5 or 6 now?” He shrugged, “and if you’re gonna ask me what’s their meanings…I don’t really know how to explain it, I just like the feeling they give me when I look at them.”

“I get it, it’s expression after all.”

Jisung nodded, his focus returning and making him let the conversation still. You didn’t like that, the feeling of awkwardness that returned with his silence, making you wrack your brains to find any sort of other conversation topic you could think of.

“Are you seeing anyone?” You wanted to instantly hide your face once you heard the words leave your mouth, Lucas turning to you with a wide-eyed expression.

Jisung sputtered, pulling the tattoo gun away from your skin, shaking his head at you.

“Uh, no, I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to regain his confidence in the situation, “why’d you wanna know?”

Now it was your turn to flush, averting your gaze, “oh, you know, just…curious, is all.”

Jisung smirked, “well, don’t go getting any ideas. I already like someone,” he told you, feeling as though he was dangling a carrot right in front of you.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, “really? Who?”

Jisung shrugged, “it’s a secret.”

You frowned, wanting to get back at him but not quite knowing how, deciding to go with the first thing you could think of, “well, I like someone too, you’re not special.”

Jisung hadn’t expected you to retort with that, narrowing his eyes at you, “wait, really? Is it Lucas?”

“Oh my god, no way, never.”

“Then who is it?” He met your gaze, making you stick your tongue out at him, mustering your best impersonation of him.

“It’s a secret.”

You had almost thought you were imagining things, but you noticed Jisung’s mood take a turn from there, seeming awfully pensive as he did the rest of your tattoo, the both of you having maintained a silence after your failed attempt at a proper conversation with him. He’d already begun to do the shading for your tattoo, so you figured he was really going to be done quicker than you thought.

You tried to distract yourself by glancing towards Lucas and Chan’s direction. Jisung could see you staring in their direction from the corner of his eye, wondering why your gaze kept travelling there when he was right in front of you.

“Is it Chan?” He blurted out, making your eyes go wide in shock.

Your smile grew, shaking your head, “no, definitely not.”

Jisung frowned, “who could it even be, you don’t even know that many people,” he huffed.

You sighed, trust you to fall for someone as oblivious as him.

“Do you want a clue?” You asked, earning a grunt from him.

“They’re very oblivious.”

Jisung frowned, looking as though he were contemplating, his tissue going over your tattoo slower as he thought. His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in realisation, a gasp leaving him.

“No way, it’s not that Felix kid from your department, is it?” He looked as though he was hoping you would say no.

You fought to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, yet not realising you were smiling at him, “no, it’s not him.”

Jisung sighed, “oh, good. I know I always say I’m the best looking but he’s a lot better looking than I am, don’t tell him I said that.”

“Good?” You questioned, wondering why he seemed so relieved that all his options had turned out to be false. Jisung had realised he may have made things a little too obvious, shaking his head vigorously.

“Nothing, you’re all done, forget I said anything.”

He pushed himself away from you, his chair swivelling far back as he tried to calm the racing of his heart as you sat up and stretched, your body tired from being in the same position for so long.

“What time is it?” You asked, earning a grunt from Jisung, not knowing either.

Chan had chimed in from the other side, having been done with Lucas’ tattoo way before yours.

“It’s 4:24,” he told you. Jisung had been busy putting an adhesive bandage over your tattoo to pay attention to your reaction.

You spent 4 hours lying there and you only got like what, two conversations with Jisung? This was a new low, even for you.


You were snapped out of your disappointment when Jisung had spoken.

“Uh… yeah keep this on for like three to four days?” He gestured to the bandage, your breath hitching as he hiked the collar of your shirt up so it wasn’t still dropping off your shoulder.

“You can still shower and everything so yeah…” he told you, reciting from memory after having been told this a thousand times by Chan.

You tried your best to pay attention, though you knew you’d probably forget by the time you were home, making him stand up mid-speech and walk over to the counter, pulling out a little brochure to hand you.

“Honestly, just read this, it has everything you need to know inside,” he told you, walking away briskly to compose himself at his station.

You’d made your payment to Chan at the counter, Jisung having pretended to be busy with cleaning up, making Chan flash you an amused smile.

“What?”

He shook his head, dimples appearing as he gave you your receipt, “You two are just too cute,” he huffed, earning a loud hum of approval from Lucas.

“Aren’t they?” The tall boy chimed in, making you scoff.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bye,” you waved, seeing Jisung turn around to give you a wide smile before turning back around, practically collapsing onto the bed once you and Lucas were gone.

“Those were the most excruciating 4 hours of my life.”

Chan’s laughter could be heard as he made his way over to Jisung, giving him a pat on the back, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Jisung let out a loud groan, “we were like this close!” Jisung brought his hand in front of his face for emphasis as he whined to Chan, “and I couldn’t focus at all I was so scared I was gonna screw up her tattoo because I kept zoning out,” he rambled, feeling as though his knees were about to buckle.

Chan shook his head with a feigned look of sympathy, looking at Jisung as though Jisung were his son, “I’m glad you’re feeling stressed.”

Jisung scoffed, shrugging Chan’s hand off of his shoulder and  glaring at his mentor with a look of disbelief, “you’re glad? Aren’t you supposed to be feeling some sympathy for me? That’s sick, I can’t believe you.”

Chan wasn’t surprised at Jisung’s dramatic reaction, simply laughing as he shrugged.

“I’m glad because if you’re stressed, you’re gonna be pushed to do something about it soon. And then I can stop hearing you stress about it and just see the both of you together, instead.”

Jisung shot Chan a dirty look, “you’re mean, old man.”

Chan scoffed, “at least I’m not stupid in love.”

===

Jisung had been keeping himself fairly busy since then, the both of you having been busy with your own plans since the semester break had started. However, the both of you had somehow managed to enjoy suppers together, bonding over a (rather unhealthy) meal of snacks or instant food whenever it was late in the night and the both of you didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.

And speaking of sleep, you’d also noticed how Jisung had started to look brighter these days, seeming to have been overcoming that period of lethargy he was previously in.

Now, the brightness was heard in the songs he hummed, in how he smiled and laughed more whenever you were together. Even in how he'd started growing more comfortable with sleeping in the dark. You weren’t sure what exactly sparked this change in him, but whatever it was, you were glad it happened, yourself seeming to be all the more enamoured with this version of Jisung that had grown on you.

You’d planned with Jisung to have a day of celebration (or a pity party) once he’d submitted his song to Chan’s music producer friend.

Since you had work that day, you’d wanted to get up early to prepare breakfast for him, but you didn’t realise how late you were until you woke up and found that he had already left.

Making your way over to the kitchen to find some food for yourself after you’d gotten ready for work, you yanked open the door for the fridge, expecting to be met with all of Jisung’s snacks and cans of drinks that still had their post-its on them.

However, as you were scanning the fridge to see if you had anything you could eat, you spotted a different coloured post-it on a bundle of juice packets, peeling the post-it off of the packaging to inspect it.

‘y/n, I heard these are great to start the morning with, try them for me?’

You couldn’t help but smile, a hand coming up to your face to attempt to slap away the heat you felt in your cheeks, pulling out a packet of juice anyway.

You were starting to think the juice did have some sort of magical properties in them, because when you got to work, you’d been on drink duty, which was your favourite to do. Well, technically, anything other than cashier duty was your favourite but who’s keeping track here?

You knew Jisung's meeting with the producer was around the afternoon, so when Chan had shown up at the café alone, you didn't question it.

Now you were really glad you weren't on cashier duty today, giving your colleague more time to talk to Chan while he ordered.

"One strawberry smoothie for Chan?" you called to get his attention, seeing him stroll over to the pick-up point with a smile on his face.

"Sorry, Jisung's not here," he teased, sighing wistfully.

You scoffed, "yeah, yeah. I know where he is.”

“How’s the tattoo healing?” He asked, making your hand go up to your shoulder unconsciously, “It’s alright, looks really pretty now that it’s all healed.”

Chan gave you a thumbs up, opening the lid of his drink as he took a sip, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Is he meeting your friend now?"

Chan’s eyebrows raised in confusion, “who?..oh,” he nodded in realisation, “yeah, just went to meet him. Honestly, if you asked me, he didn’t seem as excited about the meeting as he was to meet you for dinner.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “don’t put ideas into my head, old man.”

Chan simply gave you a shrug, “I’m not that old, you know,” he brought his drink up to his lips to take a sip, “and they’re only ideas if you’re in denial.”

You groaned, “go, begone, leave me alone.”

Chan giggled, nodding as his hand went up in surrender, “fine, I’m going. Have a good dinner later, Y/N,” he sing-songed.

Curse Chan for putting the thought into your head, now you couldn’t stop thinking about dinner.

Your shift only ended at 5:30, so that gave you just about enough time to go get groceries while Jisung prepared the things for your hotpot at home.

Deciding you would do what you were called to do, which in this case, meant to send Jisung a text wishing him the best of luck, you did as such.

2:31pm - hey, all the best for your meeting with the producer man!!-

Jisung’s reply had come quickly,

han jisung 2:32pm - thanks :( im waiting to see him now, I didn’t know there was gonna be a whole queue -

Setting your phone aside, you’d tried not to let yourself get too anxious while you waited for him to update you, busying yourself with washing dishes and even serving tables out of your sheer boredom due to the crowd starting to disperse at this time.

You waited, and you waited, you waited until the word ‘waiting’ itself felt weird to say in your head. You should’ve known better to have expected Jisung to update you over text, only receiving a text in the evening that read

han jisung 5:23pm - hey…i just finished meeting him…see u at the apartment?-

You’d texted him back, not knowing what to make of his text.

5:23pm - is that a good hey or a bad hey? -

Jisung hadn’t answered your question, his next text coming as more of a source of confusion for you.

han jisung 5:24pm - ill tell u in person -

“What happened? Is it Jisung?” Your colleague seemed to have sensed your inner turmoil, looking at you with concern etched in her features.

“Yeah, he told me he was done meeting the producer person…but he didn’t wanna tell me how it went,” you frowned, seeing your colleague hum in confusion.

“D’you think it didn’t go well?” She asked, mirroring your expression of uncertainty.

You typed out your reply to Jisung as you shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m hoping he’s just messing with me.”

5:26pm - my shift ends in like 4 minutes… I’ll go and get the groceries before I get back -

han jisung 5:26pm - okay, ill be waiting -

“All the best, then?” Your co-worker offered, giving you a look of sympathy.

“You too, enjoy the rest of your shift,” you returned her expression, sighing as you removed your apron, grabbing your bag from the back room before you left.

You’d tried your best to be quick in getting your groceries, making sure you’d gotten everything Jisung had told you to, your footsteps quick as you briskly walked to your apartment building.

Not knowing if it was because you hadn’t eaten in hours or if it was because you were just excited, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement in you, not so much because you were excited to hear how Jisung’s meeting went but more of because you were excited that you were going to see Jisung soon.

Finally reaching your apartment, you’d pushed the door open to spot Jisung coming out from his room, a towel on his head as he rubbed at his freshly-washed hair.

“Hey,” you breathed, a hint of a smile on your face, scanning his face for an expression as he glanced at you, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose cutely.

Jisung had a whole plan for how he was going to surprise you with the news, he wanted to wait until the food was ready and when the both of you were seated across each other in the living room, wait for you to ask him about how the meeting went so that he could pretend to be upset about it.

And just like he’d seen in the romantic movie Chan was playing in the studio the other day, he would wait till you showed concern to give you a smile and tell you the good news, already being able to imagine the smile you would give him in celebration.

But seeing how you looked, a little bit breathless from rushing, carrying groceries in your hands as you looked at him with a smile that spelled nothing but relief, Jisung couldn’t help himself.

“He offered me a job,” Jisung confessed, his grip tight on his towel as he let his hand fall limp to his side, any perfect, fool-proof plan of copying the romance movie now long gone.

Your eyes widened, setting the groceries on the counter as you cheered, “oh my god, that’s great! I’m really happy for you!” You cheered, practically running towards him before stopping yourself halfway, realising you were almost about to hug him.

Jisung noticed you stop too, tilting his head at you as his hands had already begun to raise to welcome you into a hug, hesitating once he’d seen you stop.

“Sorry,” you huffed, shoving your hands into your pockets, taking a step back to create some distance between the both of you.

Jisung smiled, shaking his head, “don’t be.” Shocking you with his confidence, he’d taken a step closer to you, his arms going around your shoulders as he pulled you towards him, his head leaning against yours gently as one of his hands went up to pet your head gently.

“You really helped me through it, believe it or not.”

Your eyes widened, trying not to get too carried away with the way his hold felt too comforting for you to pull away, thankful that he’d let go first, his hands coming up to grasp your shoulders.

“You hungry? The soup’s almost done.”

You nodded, “can I uh…take a shower first? I’ll be quick I promise.”

You didn’t wait for him to reply before you’d escaped to the bathroom, too focused on showering quickly that you’d almost forgotten about the hug. Keyword, almost.

Once you’d changed into a comfortable shirt and shorts, you’d practically jogged over to the kitchen, seeing that Jisung had already taken out the ingredients to thaw the meat and prepare the veggies.

“Wow, who are you and what have you done with Jisung?”

Jisung turned around at your voice, rolling his eyes at your statement, flicking the water from the veggies at you as you dodged, “figured I’d do something while waiting, you know, make myself useful.”

You huffed, a smile on your face as you gestured for him to continue, “well, don’t let me stop you.”

“So how did the interview go?” You asked, watching intently as he brought the platefuls of ingredients to the coffee table, stopping you when you’d moved to help him get the pot of soup.

“It’s okay, you go sit down, I’ll do it.”

You couldn’t help the impressed pout from your lips, not wanting to let on that the gesture had made your heart flutter.

Once all the food was on the table, Jisung had taken a seat next to you, the both of you starting to throw your ingredients into the soup, Jisung turning to you looking as though he’d wanted to say something.

“What was I saying before? Oh, right,” he nodded, “I didn’t expect him to be so intimidating, I nearly pissed myself when I walked into the room.”

You’d burst into laughter, Jisung laughing along with you, “I’m not even joking. Chan gave me a completely different description of what he would be like.”

You’d tried your best to calm down from your laughter quickly, seeing him take a piece of food from the pot and place it into your bowl wordlessly, choosing to ignore the gesture for the sake of your heart.

“But I’m assuming he’s not that bad? Since he offered you the job?”

Jisung let out a sigh, “yeah, thank god he did, I was a stuttering mess. Even Iwouldn’t have hired myself.”

You let out a chuckle, “you’re lucky he judged you based on the song, then,” you teased, earning a harmless glare from him.

You’d scooped some food into your mouth, looking up at him to see that he’d already had his cheeks full of food, nodding at you expectantly.

“So does this mean you’re gonna work on that producer guy’s team?” You asked, earning a nod from him as he swallowed his mouthful of food with a wince.

“Yeah, he said I could intern at his company in the holidays and if everything goes well he’ll give me a contract once I graduate.”

You let out a low whistle, “wow, imagine all the exposure you’d get there…all the different types of genres and artists you’d be exposed to,” you marvelled, Jisung finding it amusing how you seemed more excited about it than he was.

You perked up in realisation, “speaking of which…I realised you’d never let me listen to the song yet.”

Jisung flushed, shaking his head, “did I? I swear I did,” he lied, making you shove him, a smile showing on his face as you did, nodding in surrender as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table.

“What’s it called?” You asked, seeing him nudge his glasses up with his knuckle, shaking his head to flick his hair from his eyes.

“Sunshine,” he told you quickly, not wasting anymore time and playing the song.

As he started to play the song, you were surprised at the light sounding melody the song had started with, the sounds of the city that he’d put inside, the feeling that you were…at home?

“Don’t look at me when you’re listening to it, I’m shy,” he brought a hand up to cover your face, making you yelp, your hands coming up to grab his wrist, pulling it away slowly as you grew more focused on the song, recognising his voice as he sang.

It wasn’t a love song, thankfully, you realised. You realised that the song revolved around a certain feeling of calm, with themes of getting away from the busy nature of your life and taking time for yourself, something you realised you and him both kind of needed.

You listened until the song had ended, looking at him with a big smile on your face, a smile that made Jisung want to cover your face in fear that it would make his heart burst with how giddy he felt.

“I love this,” you told him, “can you send it to me?”

Jisung scoffed, “no way, how do I know you’re not gonna sell it before I can get it copyrighted?” he huffed, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the table to support his head on his palm.

“I’m really impressed, how’d you get the inspiration to do this?”

Jisung shrugged, “my own life I guess, and the people that helped me get through that weird period of creative block that I was in,” he murmured.

You nodded, “well, whoever they are, you should thank them for me.”

Jisung nodded, facing the television as he contemplated in his heart whether to do what he wanted to do, turning to you with a small smile on his face, he nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Your eyes widened, not knowing what to make of his words. The song had started to repeat.

Jisung had shook his head, “I’m not just saying this because I like you or whatever—” he stopped himself with a small curse, “shit, that was not how I planned on telling you. Whatever, as I was saying…” he trailed off, his gaze landing on your tattoo, the neck of your shirt having started to slip off your shoulder slightly.

“Honestly, I really hated that drawing,” he told you, your gaze following his to look at your tattoo, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

“This? Why? But it’s so pretty,” you insisted.

Jisung shook his head.

“It was my first design, and I wasn’t…you know, I just didn’t think it was that impressive, and all. Chan had told me to keep it in my portfolio but I was really close to just removing it.”

His gaze shifted to anywhere except your face, distracting himself by looking at the various things in the house, his gaze landing on the rainbow-coloured umbrella at the door.

Jisung sighed, shifting in his seat so he was leaning against the sofa now, his body angled towards you, making you unconsciously shift your body to face him as well, your breath hitching in anticipation for what he was about to say next.

“But then, you said you wanted it tattooed, and I honestly didn’t want you to get it but I had no choice, you know, blah blah customer’s preference first and all that bullshit,” he waved his hand for emphasis, “but then after I saw you with the tattoo more, I guess my perspective started to change? I mean, like, you kept insisting that it was so beautiful and all that..you know, seeing you with it kind of started to grow on me.”

Jisung paused, his gaze on a corner of the coffee table as he tried to find the right words to express how he was feeling, shrugging at you and just deciding to say whatever was at the top of his head and work from there.

“I guess it kind of made me love my work more, and like, trust myself, you know… because I realised how beautiful it could be.”

You looked at him wordlessly, your heart picking up speed at the tension in the room, something in you urging you to stand up, making you get up on your feet with no aim in mind.

So as not to look like a complete fool, your hands flew up to hug your arms, “oh, it’s a little um, chilly. Be right back,” you sprinted to your room, reaching in your cupboard for your hoodie and putting it on without a second thought, too preoccupied to notice how it stopped at your thighs and how the sleeves bunched up more.

Returning to the coffee table, you’d almost regretted your decision to put on the hoodie, feeling utterly warm from how flustered you were, especially with the way Jisung was looking at you with a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Sorry,” you murmured, averting your gaze as you tilted your head down, not expecting Jisung to tilt his head down as well so he could search for your gaze, making you scrunch your eyes shut, wrinkling your nose as you let out a huff of laughter.

“You can reject me, you know. I remember you said you already liked someone,” he told you, and Jisung meant it, not wanting anything but to make sure you were okay, and happy.

You shook your head, “I don’t want to,” you murmured, finally daring yourself to meet his gaze, your heart skipping a beat when you saw the way Jisung had smiled.

“I can’t say I’m not happy to hear that,” he told you.

Jisung had brought his hand up, lazily removing his glasses and looking at you finally, since now the other things in the house weren’t as clear in his vision, all that was important being that you were right in front of him, and he could see you clearer than anything.

“Why’d you take your glasses off?” You murmured, seeing him shrug, giving you a lazy smile.

“What? You scared I didn’t wanna see your face?” He teased, the flush on your cheeks making him give in almost immediately, “I’m kidding. I just didn’t feel like being distracted anymore.”

Maybe it was the atmosphere of the living room, or the lingering feelings the song had left in you, maybe it was even the way you felt like you were finally getting what you were waiting for.

Whatever it was, there was an overwhelming feeling of giddiness in you, especially with the way Jisung’s gaze had flickered between your lips and your gaze, and yet he’d made no move to lean closer to you, as if he was expecting you to move first.

Leaning closer, you’d let yourself glance down, getting distracted by the stain of black ink on the sleeve of your hoodie, only realising then that it wasn’t your hoodie.

“Shit, sorry I’m wearing yours by mistake again, it must’ve gotten mixed up,” you murmured, knowing it wasn’t your week to do laundry duty.

Jisung stopped you before you could stand up, pulling your hand forward so the only thing stopping you from losing your balance was his grip on your arm.

“I never thought I’d be saying this but, you can wear it.”

You’d sworn if your heart were any weaker, you wouldn’t have been able to last this long, Jisung seeming almost teasing with the way he’d inched closer at a painfully slow pace, so his lips were barely touching yours.

Just before he could pull back, you’d groaned in frustration, bringing your free hand up to cup the side of his jaw, meeting your lips with his.

And there it was again, the feeling of relief that washed over, knowing that this was very much happening, and that you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Jisung pulled away first, his pupils blown and his eyes giving away his surprise, huffing at you and folding his arms, increasing the distance between you.

“I’m only realising this now, what do you mean I’m oblivious?”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll explain it again later, I swear.”

Jisung huffed, more dramatic this time, making sure you sensed his sulkiness (as feigned as it was), looking at you with a pout on his lips, “give me a kiss and I’ll forgive you.”

He puckered his lips, making you roll your eyes, though you didn’t hesitate to cup his face again, pressing your lips against his as your thumb brushed over his cheek gently, pulling away before he would’ve wanted. You couldn’t help yourself from laughing at the way he’d leaned forward, chasing your lips, frowning at you with a soft sigh when you’d straightened up.

“Can we eat now? The meat’s getting overcooked.”

===

lucas 11:30pm - dude I told u it would work if you smiled at him more cant believe u didnt believe me smh -

[cryingcow]

Character Story - Saejima (1985)

Now for a Saejima story that’s much longer than the last :D Ch. 3 is set in Y5, so super minor spoilers for that (which makes this a Christmas story!). This will probably be my last for the near future, COVID situation-depending (or at the very least I’ll be much slower in translating lol cuz I really need to study and this story is just making me guilty XD).

Story: In the month before he attempts mass murder, Saejima gets to live out his dream of being a teacher.

Boy: “How do I solve this problem?”

Saejima, carrying a gun in his mouth: “Bluplaguhabulahebluwa.”

Boy: “I see! You know, you’re way more understandable than my actual schoolteachers.”

.

CHAPTER 1

.

|

One day in March, 1985 . . . one month before Saejima Taiga became the “Legendary 18-Count”.

|

Saejima: “Haa~. I might have had too much to drink with my kyoudai, because my head is fuzzy. Will I wake up if I drink some coffee? . . . Hm?”

Café Alps Waiter: “Sitting down with just 1 cup of coffee for hours! If you’re studying, do it at home!”

Boy: “I can’t concentrate at home! There aren’t many customers anyway, so it’s okay!”

Saejima: “Oi. Are ya picking a fight with a kid?”

Café Alps Waiter: “N-No. This kid has been sitting here since morning. Just 1 cup of coffee, for hours.”

Boy: “I was studying. I’m taking an exam soon. At home, my family is noisy and no good . . .”

Saejima: “Is that so . . . Ain’t it crowded at the café? Can’t you overlook him?”

Café Alps Waiter: “I can’t ignore this problem. What if the other kids copy him?”

Boy: “Hey, the mock exam is near, so 1 more hour! A good idea, right?!”

Café Alps Waiter: “It’s useless! Look, go over there! Shoo!”

Saejima: “. . . If you want to stay, why don’t ya order another cup? Look, I’ll get one, just let him study.”

Café Alps Waiter: “Eh? You?”

Boy: “Ojiisan! Is that okay?!”

Saejima: “Yeah.”

Boy: “Thank you! Ojiisan!”

Saejima: “. . . Brat. It’s not Ojiisan. It’s Saejima.”

Ichiro: “Saejima-no-ojiisan then! I’m Ichiro! Nishiyamada Ichiro!”

Saejima: “Ichiro. It’s time for you to study. There are people in this world who even if they want to study, they can’t.”

Ichiro: “Yup! I’ll work hard!”

----

|A few days later . . .|

Ichiro: “Stingy!”

Café Alps Waiter: “This is a business! If you’re not buying anything, then go home!”

Saejima: (Oi, oi. Not again.)

Saejima: “Are ya at it again?”

Ichiro: “Ah, Saejima-no-ojiisan . . .”

Saejima: “Ichiro, are ya studying at the café again?”

Ichiro: “Yup . . .”

Café Alps Waiter: “The other day, did you know that this kid stayed until closing after you paid for a drink? One extra drink is not enough . . .”

Saejima: “. . . It can’t be helped. Oi, Ichiro. You can’t study if you’re not in a quiet place, yeah?”

Ichiro: “Yup. That’s right, but . . .”

Saejima: “Then I know a place. Follow me, I’ll take ya there.”

Ichiro: “Eh? Is it a good place?”

----

Ichiro: “Ojiisan, what’s here?”

Saejima: “Ah, this place is . . .”

Saejima: (I can’t tell him it’s an abandoned hideout once used by the Family . . .)

Saejima: “Yeah, uh . . . it’s an acquaintance’s building. You can use it as much as ya like.”

Ichiro: “Hmm, all right. But . . . don’t you have a desk?”

Saejima: “How about those mandarin orange boxes over there? With cushions . . . we can use the cardboard box.”

Ichiro: “Yeah! . . . Somehow, this place looks like a secret base.”

Saejima: “. . . Didn’t ya say you were taking an exam the other day?”

Ichiro: “Yup. There’s a school I want to go to. So there’s a mock test soon . . . But I’m not good at studying. My grades don’t improve at all.”

Saejima: “Not good at studying, huh . . . Ichiro, how do you do it?”

Ichiro: “Um . . .”

{Ichiro demonstrates to Saejima.}

Saejima: “Hmm. That’s an inefficient method. I’ll teach you the right way. Let me show ya how.”

Ichiro: “Eh? Saejima-no-ojiisan? . . . You know how to study?”

Saejima: “Idiot. Even if I look like this, I was aiming to be a schoolteacher. When I was a kid, I was able to study well.”

Ichiro: “Eeh?! Really?!”

Saejima: “Really. Now let me show ya how.”

{Saejima demonstrates to Ichiro how to study Math.}

Saejima: “So, do it like this. The trick is to solve the same problem over and over again.”

Ichiro: “Wow! With Saejima-no-ojiisan’s teaching, it’s very easy to understand!”

Saejima: “Heh. Ain’t that right? Now, is Social Studies next? Let’s see . . .”

{Saejima continues teaching Ichiro.}

----

Ichiro: “Ojiisan, thank you for today!”

Saejima: “Sure. Do your best.”

???: “Oi, isn’t that Ichiro?”

Ichiro: “Ah . . .”

Saejima: “. . . Do ya know them?”

Ichiro: “Y-Yup. I think they’re friends of Oniichan . . .”

Thug-like Youth: “Ichiro-kun. We’re a bit short on pocket money. Will you lend us some again?”

Ichiro: “. . . I-I’m sorry. I don’t have any money.”

Thug-like Youth: “Lies! I heard from your Oniichan! Didn’t you have pocket money yesterday?! Hey!”

Ichiro: “Hiii . . .”

Saejima: “You guys . . . aren’t ya embarrassed to be asking such a thing from a child?”

Thug-like Youth: “. . . Ossan. It’s nice to look cool and all, but have you seen how many we are? If you’re going to pick a fight, maybe you should check out the other party first?”

Ichiro: “Sa-Saejima-no-ojiisan. Don’t do it. These guys are a group of runaways. They’re really strong . . . We should do what they say . . .”

Saejima: “. . . Ichiro. I’m not saying to get into a fight that ya can’t win. However . . . there are times when ya shouldn’t run away. Remember that.”

Ichiro: “Eh?”

Thug-like Youth: “Ossan, what the hell~, you think you can win? Just because you have a good body build? Then I’ll make you cry through sore eyes!”

{Saejima defeats all of the thugs.}

Thug-like Youth: “H-Hiii . . . Strong . . .”

Saejima: “You guys . . . try and lay a hand on Ichiro next time, and you’ll be sorry.”

Thug-like Youth: “U-Understood, damn it!”

{The thugs run away.}

Ichiro: “A-Amazing. . . . Saejima-no-ojiisan, you’re really strong too!”

Saejima: “It’s no big deal. How about you, Ichiro, are ya alright?”

Ichiro: “Y-Yup.”

Saejima: “. . . Geez. Shaking down a child. What bad friends. Ichiro, if they come after you again, tell me, okay?”

Ichiro: “Yup! Thank you! But I can’t just be protected by other people all the time. I have to become strong.”

Saejima: “Hm? Strong?”

Ichiro: “Actually, I want to be a police officer. A good police officer just like my dad.”

Saejima: “Wh-What? Officer? Your dad?”

Ichiro: “Yup. Is something wrong?”

Saejima: “N-No. So that’s what ya want. So ya want to be a police officer too?”

Ichiro: “Yup. My dad is a great police officer. He bravely confronts the Yakuza. It’s his job to protect the general public by not putting up with those bad guys.”

Saejima: “. . . A good father.”

Ichiro: “Yup. But I’m worried because he often gets hurt. Kamurocho is full of dangers.”

Saejima: “Well, that’s true. It’s a dangerous city . . .”

Ichiro: “Hey, Saejima-no-ojiisan. Teach me how to fight.”

Saejima: “What? How to fight?”

Ichiro: “Yup! I want to be strong like you so I won’t lose to bad guys!”

Saejima: “Yeah, but . . . how about ya don’t get into a quarrel with a bad guy? If you can do that, that would be the best.”

Ichiro: “But you have to be strong if you want to be a police officer! So Ojiisan! Make me your disciple!”

Saejima: “. . . And if I’m strict? Even then?”

Ichiro: “Yup! It’s fine! Thank you, Saejima-sensei!”

Saejima: “Ha, Saejima-sensei. I’m a bit tickled.”

Ichiro: “Fufufu. . . . Oh, by the way . . . what does Saejima-sensei usually do?”

Saejima: “Th-That is . . . it’s a freelance business.”

Ichiro: “Freelance? Hmm. I don’t really get it.”

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 2

.

|One day in March, 1985 . . . 10 days before Saejima became the “Legendary 18-Count”.|

Saejima: “. . . Hmm. That Ichiro didn’t come today either. Did something suddenly happen in the past few days . . . ?”

----

Saejima: “. . . Hm? That’s . . .”

Ichiro: “. . .”

Saejima: “Oi, if it isn’t Ichiro.”

Ichiro: “! Sa-Saejima-sensei . . .”

Saejima: “What a miserable face. Ya haven’t come by the past few days to study, what happened?”

Ichiro: “. . .”

Ichiro: “Uugh. Uwaaaaaa.”

Saejima: “O-Oi, what’s wrong?”

Ichiro: “Uwaaaaaa . . . Saejima-sensei . . .”

Saejima: “. . . F-For now, calm down. Okay?”

----

Saejima: “What happened that ya suddenly started crying?”

Ichiro: “. . . Dad . . .”

Saejima: “Hm? What happened to your father?”

Ichiro: “. . . He was shot and gravely injured.”

Saejima: “Eh?! What do you mean?”

Ichiro: “He got mixed up with yakuza . . . He protected a woman who was likely to get shot, and . . .”

Saejima: “. . . And wh-what?”

Ichiro: “The place where he got shot was so bad that he might not be able to walk anymore . . .”

Saejima: (So that’s why I haven’t seen him the past few days.)

Saejima: “That’s heartbreaking . . .”

Ichiro: “. . . U-Uuuugh . . .”

----

Saejima: “Are ya alright? Can you go home alone?”

Ichiro: “Yup. I’m fine.  . . . Hey, Saejima-sensei. It’s about your cram school . . .”

Saejima: “Cram school? Oh, that abandoned place? Did ya go there?”

Ichiro: “. . . I’m thinking of quitting. I don’t want to be a police officer.”

Saejima: “. . . That so . . . Is it because of your father?”

Ichiro: “Yup. That’s why teacher’s cram school . . .”

Saejima: “. . . Did ya get scared?”

Ichiro: “. . . Yup.”

Saejima: “. . . I see.”

Ichiro: “Saejima-sensei . . . what should I do?”

Saejima: “. . . That’s right. You’re having a hard time now, so how about ya sleep on it. However . . .”

Ichiro: “However?”

Saejima: “It’s no good to lose sight of the back ya want to emulate. If ya lose your way, I will guide you back myself.”

Ichiro: “Back . . . to emulate?”

Saejima: “That’s right, your father was a good police officer. That doesn’t change no matter what. What ya saw on your father’s back . . . it’s still a fine gate to aim for. Ichiro, having that in your heart should guide you when ya get lost, okay?”

Ichiro: “Saejima-sensei . . .”

Saejima: “But for now, you should take a rest. Don’t worry about the cram school.”

Ichiro: “. . . Yup. Thank you, Saejima-sensei.”

Saejima: (So, is it a yakuza-related crime? If I dig little, I can figure out who’s involved.)

----

Yakuza: “Haa . . . haa . . . Go away! Leave me the fuck alone!”

Saejima: “Wait!”

Yakuza: “Haa . . . haa . . . zee . . . zee . . . Damn it! What the hell are you?!”

Saejima: “The other day, a fight between yakuza took place behind Pink Street. Are you the yakuza involved in it?”

Yakuza: “Yeah?! What of it?!”

Saejima: “Were ya the one who tried to shoot a respectable woman? Moreover, the bullet that hit the cop on the scene . . . At the time, you escaped successfully. Did ya think that was enough?”

Yakuza: “Hey, are you a cop? You don’t look like one . . .”

Saejima: “No. Sorry. This is . . . revenge.”

Yakuza: “Revenge? Heh, interesting. In that case, I’ll throw it back at you!”

{Saejima beats up the yakuza.}

Yakuza: “Damn . . . strong . . .”

Saejima: “(For Ichiro, there is no relief. Even if I took revenge . . .)

----

|A few days later . . .|

Saejima: “. . . Hm? In that abandoned building I used with Ichiro . . . It seems the light is on, but it shouldn’t be . . .”

Saejima: “Oi, Ichiro.”

Ichiro: “Oh, Ojiisan. You’re here.”

Saejima: “Because the light was on. Rather, are ya all right?”

Ichiro: “. . . Yup.”

Saejima: “I see.”

Ichiro: “. . . Hey, Ojiisan. I’ve been thinking since then . . . I shouldn’t give up on my dream to be a police officer after all. Saejima-sensei taught me about ‘a back to emulate’. I still admire his.”

Saejima: “I see . . .”

Ichiro: “In addition, it’s not just my dad’s. The back that I admire.”

Saejima: “Eh?”

Ichiro: “Because it’s not just my dad that I admire, it’s also Saejima-sensei!”

Saejima: “! Ichiro . . .”

Ichiro: “So from now on . . . thank you!”

Saejima: “. . . Heh. Got it.”

----

|A few days later, at Saejima’s apartment . . .|

Phone: “Bururururu . . .”

Saejima: “Yes. This is Saejima.  . . . Eh? Talk with me? Is it important? . . . Understood. I’ll head out.”

Saejima: (Something important to tell me? The hell could it be?)

----

Saejima: “. . .”

Younger Delinquent: “. . . Then, if you are decided, please contact me. Everything will be confidential.”

Saejima: “Yeah . . .”

Saejima: (I would do anything for Boss Sasai . . . is what I thought . . . To kill. The target is the leader of the Ueno Seiwa. My heart is set. But before that, there’s something else I have to deal with.)

----

Ichiro: “Eh? Ends today? Wh-Why?!”

Saejima: “. . . I’m sorry.”

Ichiro: “Why? Why?”

Saejima: “I’m not the kind of guy you should follow. I don’t want ya to chase my back.”

Ichiro: “. . . Ojiisan. I don’t know . . .”

Saejima: “Ichiro. I’m sorry.  . . . Become a good police officer.”

Ichiro: “Ojiisan . . .”

----

|April 21, 1985.  . . . Saejima Taiga kills the Ueno Seiwa leader along with many members. This is the incident that later dubbed him the “Legendary 18-Count”. Saejima will receive the death sentence for that crime . . .|

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 3

.

|December 2012. Kamurocho. 27 years after Saejima’s 18 kills. Saejima escaped from Abashiri Prison in Hokkaido after learning of Majima’s death. When he returned to Kamurocho to find out the truth . . .|

Saejima: “Haa . . . haa. Tch, they can’t find me with this many people . . . !”

Police: “The jailbreaker is over there!”

Saejima: “Damn it!”

----

Saejima: “Phew. Somehow, I managed . . . hm?”

Punk: “It should be around here . . .”

Saejima: (It can’t be helped. I’ll have to hide until they leave.)

Male Voice: “Oi, did you bring it?”

Saejima: (. . . Police?)

Punk: “Oi, how much longer do I have to pay up?”

Police Officer: “Are you in a position to complain? If it wasn’t for me, you think you’ll be eating good food in a dangerous prison?”

Punk: “Shit!”

Saejima: (What? Is he giving money to the police officer? What’s he doing? I should go elsewhere.)

{Saejima steps on glass as he tries to escape.}

Saejima: “!”

Police Officer: “Who’s there?!”

Saejima: (Damn it. I’ve been found . . . !)

Police Officer: “. . . Sa-Saejima . . . sensei?”

Saejima: “Huh?”

Police Officer: “After everything . . . is that all? I heard you’d broken out of jail . . .”

Saejima: “. . . Y-You, no way . . . . . . Ichiro?”

Ichiro: “. . . Long time no see.”

Saejima: “. . . Did you become a police officer?”

Ichiro: “Yeah. As you can see.”

Saejima: “Really. That’s good. I want to rejoice in our reunion, but it’s not the best timing. . . . Ichiro. I’m sorry but can’t you overlook that ya saw me? I still have something to do. I can’t afford to get caught . . .”

Ichiro: “. . . Heh. Are you going to kill someone again? I was surprised you killed 18 people, ‘Saejima-sensei’ . . .”

Saejima: “!”

Ichiro: “You also kept it a secret that you were yakuza. Even so, you were a good teacher . . .”

Saejima: “No, that is . . .”

Ichiro: “. . . Very well. I’ll overlook you. I don’t know what you’re going to do, and I don’t care. But you’ll have to pay me 500,000 yen.”

Saejima: “Ichiro . . . you . . . Was the money you received from the punk earlier a bribe? Where did ya learn such a thing?”

Ichiro: “Saejima!! I’m no longer an innocent kid!”

Saejima: “. . . . . . Won’t your father be sad? Did ya become a good police officer?”

Ichiro: “. . . Murderers often bring that up.  . . . Well, whatever. Just pay me.”

Saejima: “. . . Ichiro. I have no money to pay you now.”

Ichiro: “I see. . . . But you’re not going to come quietly, right?”

Saejima: “Yeah.”

Ichiro: “In that case, what to do . . . You guys! Time to make yourselves useful!”

Punk: “Eh?”

Ichiro: “Beat the hell out of Saejima. But don’t kill him.”

Punk: “H-Haa?! Why should we? Making us do such a thing on top of making us pay . . .”

Ichiro: “Robbery with assault. How long do you think you’ll get?”

Punk: “Ugh . . .”

Ichiro: “Do you want to eat smelly rice in prison?! Do you want to have the rest of your life ruined?!”

Punk: “D-Damn it!!”

{Saejima beats up the punks.}

Punk: “Im-Impossible! Impossible, impossible! This guy is as strong as a monster!”

Saejima: “. . .”

Ichiro: “What are you doing, you useless piece of junk!”

Punk: “B-But he’s too much for us! This guy’s strength is inhuman!”

Ichiro: “. . . If that’s the case, then use this. I confiscated this dagger today.”

Punk: “!”

Ichiro: “So stab Saejima! He’s not going to die!!”

Saejima: “. . . Ichiro. You . . .”

Ichiro: “Saejima! This is the price for betraying me! I’ll take the credit!”

Ichiro: “What’s wrong?! If you don’t do it, I’ll get rid of you too!!”

Punk: “. . . U-Uugh . . . . . . . . . . D-Damn iiiiiiit!! Cut it out, you fucking cop!”

{The punk points the knife at Ichiro.}

Ichiro: “What . . . What do you think will happen if you go against me?”

Punk: “Shut up! I’m going to mess you up! You’re dead!!”

{The punk rushes in to stab him.}

Ichiro: “U-Uwaaaaaa!”

Ichiro: “Eh?”

Saejima: “. . . Shit . . . as expected, it hurts.”

Punk: “. . . Ah. A-a-a-a-a-ah . . . Uwaaaaaaaaa!”

{The punks run off.}

Ichiro: “. . . . . . Wh-Why?”

Saejima: “Nothing to it. You were about to get stabbed. I can’t let ya meet your father like that, can I?”

Ichiro: “. . .”

Saejima: “. . . Kuh. Tch . . . He really used quite the force . . . stabbing that in . . .”

{Saejima falls to the ground.}

Saejima: “. . . Ichiro, what’s wrong? Aren’t ya arresting me? No way I can fight back now.”

Ichiro: “. . . . . . Ha, hahaha. You haven’t changed at all. Even though my hands are so dirty . . .”

Saejima: “! Ichiro . . .”

Ichiro: “. . . . . . 27 years ago . . . I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to think they got it all wrong.  . . . I was shocked. It was really because I saw your back . . . . . . But now, once again . . . I feel like it’s been shown to me.”

Saejima: “. . . Ichiro.  . . . Uugh . . . shit . . .”

Ichiro: “I know an underground doctor. He’s just nearby . . .”

Saejima: “No. I don’t need this taken care of. I’ll do something about it myself.”

Ichiro: “No, but . . .”

Saejima: “Heh. Don’t look at me like that.”

Ichiro: “. . . . . . Then run away before anyone sees you. Is there something I can do?”

Saejima: “Something? Forget ya saw me.”

Ichiro: “Heh . . . I’m already dirty. After all this time, the least I can do is overlook you.”

Saejima: “. . . I’m sorry, Ichiro. But . . . if I can do what I need to do, I will atone for my sins. I will take responsibility.”

Ichiro: “. . . Atone for your sins . . . ? . . . Hey. Can I ask you something? Is it still possible for me to start over?”

Saejima: “Yeah. Humans can always start over, if they want to.”

Ichiro: “. . . . . . Really?”

Saejima: “Heh. I’ve been in prison for 25 years. Don’t doubt me.”

Ichiro: “Haha. That may be the case . . .”

Supporting Police Officer: “Over there! Saejima!”

Saejima: “Tch. They found me? Gotta go, Ichiro. Do your best!”

Ichiro: “Back at you. . . . . . . ‘Saejima-sensei’.”

Saejima: “! . . . . . . Haha. That really does have me tickled.  . . . bye!”

{Saejima escapes.}

Ichiro: “Should I emulate that back . . . ?”

Ichiro: “. . . . . . Saejima-sensei. You really are . . . the best teacher.”

.

-END-

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