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luvonmes-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Guilty

Y/N and Suguru were damn near polar opposites of each other. Y/N, a girl who wore her heart on her sleeve and gave and gave until she couldn't anymore. Suguru, a cocky dickhead who was spoon-fed opportunities and was given everything he ever wanted. how could the two ever make anything work?

Warnings - 18+ MDNI!! enemies to lovers! hockey player!geto, ice skater!reader, tatted!geto, pierced!geto, he gets bitched, getos a whiny little boy, smut, rough sex, sappy sex, daddy kink, breeding kink towards the end, some spit, sex in a public place, at some point Satoru walks in, Y/N kinda cries a lot (self-projection is real). i think theres more? lmk if i missed anything! w.c - 18.5k, not proof read. Song - Guilty By: TAEMIN

PSA - please do not compare this to Icebreaker. ik because of ice skating and the release of this book it’s the first thing you think of but, number one, that book sucks. number two, the book is supposed to have elements and revolve around muslim culture, the author obviously did not do enough research on what it is to be muslim and i hate it. number three, i actually spent time researching and even had someone help me make sure this was the best i can possibly make it, i’d like if my work was appreciated for being my work instead of it being appreciated because it reminds you of smt else. thank you!

all in all, DO NOT COMPARE THIS TO ICEBREAKER.

very special shout out to @r0ses4ndlilies for helping me use the proper ice skating terms!!!

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to say Suguru Geto was meant to be something - someone - important was as if to say the sun was meant to shine. obvious.

from a young age Suguru knew he was special, gifted in academics and sports, the only person to rival him - his own best friend, Satoru. the boys were their hometowns' prized possessions. their families bragged about them, boys wanted to be them, girls fawned after them. being in their presence meant there was never a dry day but as they grew older, they grew more focused. straying away from others to pursue their dream careers. the dream was finally reached in their college years, being accepted into the prestigious university, Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College. as soon as they graduated high school they were offered full rides to the school, as long as they played on the hockey team.

they took the offer without hesitation, going to one of the highest ranked schools and getting to play the sport of their dreams? easy yes. that was almost four years ago, the boys are in their last year of college, still playing for the hockey team, almost ready to graduate. the team was the best it had been in years, only three losses since Suguru and Satoru joined the team. not only were they the best on the team but the most popular in their frat as well - Sigma Beta Chi, courtesy of Satoru dragging Sugura to join along with him.

then there was you.

to say you had busted your ass to get where you were today would be an understatement. you poured your blood sweat and tears to get to the spot you’re in, captain of the TMTC ice skating team. as a child you’d always dreamed of becoming a figure skater. a video you had seen sparked your interest and since then you’d never let it go. it was hard, growing up your grandfather had tried his best to support you, going out of his way to pay for your skating lessons and even putting you into an after school program. he never told you of his financial struggles, he didn’t want you to give up on your dream but when you found out, you vowed to pay him back any way you could. you made sure your grades in school couldn’t be challenged, you took on many temp jobs, making money any way you could, while balancing the energy-draining skate practices you went to at night.

in your third year both upper and lower-classmen voted you as captain for the school's team and you were over the moon. you immediately called your grandfather to tell him the great news and he was just as happy as you, forever and always your number one supporter. since you became captain you’ve pushed yourself to and over your limit, challenging yourself in any way possible to make sure you were always at your best. many late nights were spent at the rink until your legs hurt so much you weren’t sure you’d be able to walk back to your dorm. you made sure the team was as best as they possibly could be, some members thought you were a bit harsh but never challenged you. after all, you had won them gold three times in a row for the first time in years.

the only conflict you had ever had in your four years of being a student at TMTC was with the hockey team. ironic seeing as your sports were the most similar of any other sport on campus but the rumor of all hockey players seemed true, they were dicks. especially the co-captains Suguru and Satoru. they didn’t seem to take your sport seriously, always taunting you whenever they’d see you. snide comments about your figure when they’d see you at practice or remarks about the uniforms you and the team wore. you wouldn’t go as far as to say you hate them (that’s just not you) but you weren’t particularly fond of them. they constantly got on your nerves, their deep boisterous laughs making your eye twitch whenever you heard them.

they ground your gears so much you just tried your best to avoid them. it wasn’t that hard seeing as you all lived on opposite sides of campus and in the two classes you had with Suguru, you sat closest to the wall while he sat dead center with his loud friends. Suguru was smart, extraordinarily so, which is exactly why you didn’t understand why he was such an asshole. you truly believed you two could be great friends but he was so rude it turned you away almost immediately. you never understood why he was so mean to you. the first time you had met you were all smiles and kind waves, you went to introduce yourself to him and he shot you down.

the coaches of both teams had called a meeting for all new team members. it was a run down of the rules and regulations, anti-harassment, anti-bullying, non-discrimination. so much that has done for you. after the meeting was over the coaches gave you the choices of either leaving or the opportunity to mingle. you took the chance to mingle, forever a social butterfly, going up to many different people. some of the girls from your team were a little hostile but open to talking, the hockey boys well… if they didn’t try to hit on you they mostly seemed uninterested in the conversation. making your rounds you finally ended up in front of Suguru and Satoru. Satoru had looked you up and down before walking away, hadn’t even given you the time. holding your hand out for Suguru to shake, you smiled at him.

“hi, i’m Y/N.” he stared at you before mumbling under his breath. you thought he was going to say something to you but Satoru had called after him, saying something about pizza. Suguru placed the cup he was drinking out of in your hand and walked over to his best friend. “o-oh…” he looked back at you, your face stuck with your mouth open and eyes wide, shocked. a couple of times after you tried to approach him, trying your best to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he’s not so mean. time and time again he proved you wrong. you would bring in gifts for the team, snacks for practice, water, anything they’d need. everyone was always so grateful, Satoru had even said thank you maybe a handful of times. Suguru had never even muttered anything.

you kept trying, ever the people pleaser, finding different ways to appease him, if you noticed he seemed to enjoy something more than another you would bring it in more. you would try to catch up to him after practice, spark up a conversation, he never seemed to care enough. you couldn’t understand why you were so obsessed with making him like you. maybe it was because growing up you always made sure everyone liked you, never leaving the house with a hair out place, always bending over backwards to make sure everyone was at least content with you. maybe it was because you couldn’t function if you felt like there was any sort of scrutiny upon your character. maybe you were so obsessed with making him like you because you had a little crush- no, no way. you kept up, trying so hard to get on his good side. it took up until one night, one night and the fixation fell. you were walking out after a long day of practice, he was in front of you, looking down on his phone.

“hey!” you yelled after him, starting in a little jog to catch up to him. he stopped for a second as you stepped next to him. “hi.” you were panting a little bit, breaths coming out in clouds due to the cold air. the snow that was falling landed in your eyelashes, you were smiling at him, so bright and wide, you looked so cute. cuter than anyone Suguru has seen before. “um, i saw a spin you did back there when you were practicing. i was wondering if maybe you could show it to me. i’ve seen some other skaters on your team do it before too, it’s really cool and i was hoping i could take it back to my team and show them.” you looked up at him, hopeful.

“yeah, no.”

“oh. please? i’d really appreciate it.” you flashed him with that bright smile of yours. he was tempted to say yes, so tempted. if he did teach you maybe he could make you smile more. smile at him.

“i said no.” you pouted, he was walking away before he turned back around to face you. your face lit back up, eyes sparkling, maybe he changed his mind? “and leave me alone, i notice the weird shit you do to get my attention. it’s annoying, stop.” your face dropped. he turned his back towards you again. after that day you did exactly what he said, left him alone. from that day on you’d begun avoiding him.

you’d done a great job at it too, for years you stayed out his way… until today.

it was another late night at the rink. wednesdays the rinks were always empty for mandatory deep cleaning, the captains would usually ask the manager of the building if they could borrow it on these nights to practice by themselves. there was a deal that the captains of the separate teams could have the rink every-other wednesday, tonight was your night. you were on your way into the rink, texting your friend Bri, she was telling you about how Satoru was staring at her from across the lecture hall. she was obsessed, it was odd seeing as you told her how much he got on your nerves and how he teased you in public. she didn’t seem to care too much.

as you were heading to the locker room you heard clinking coming from the ice, you had assumed it was the cleaning crew, they’d usually be finishing up right about now. lacing up your skates you finally put your phone down, over Bri’s delusions, you were too afraid to cut her off as a friend, scared of the potential consequences. walking to the rink, your guards scuffing against the floor as you dragged your feet, already feeling the pain in your legs. you were just about to sit down and take your guards off before you saw him. the infamous number two on his jersey moving against his body as he moved the hockey puck around with his customized stick.

“hey!” you yelled out through the windows separating the bleachers and the rink. “what are you doing?” he stopped just as he was about to hit the puck into the makeshift goal he mapped out in the corner. turning around to look at you with low eyes.

“what does it look like i’m doing?” he answered back, snarkily.

“it looks like you’re taking up my time.” you were annoyed, he knows this is your time, you’d even specified yesterday. talking just loudly enough for the hockey team to hear from across the rink, you knew they were listening in, they always do.

“your time?” he scoffed.

“yeah, my time.” you rolled your eyes. “listen, i don’t know how long you’ve been here but it’s long enough. i really don’t want to be mean or make this bigger than it is but i really need to practice. i’d really appreciate it if you left.” you gave him the kindest smile you could then sat down to take the guards off your skates.

“alright, princess, i was here first. that means i get the rink.” his arms were out at his side, gesturing to the rink. you shot back up quickly.

“no!” you exclaimed. “this is my night. you being here first doesn’t mean anything. and i told you to stop calling me that.” princess. the stupid nickname he had given you two years ago. you were leaving the rink after a meeting between the two teams, him and Satoru trailing behind laughing and giggling to each other. he’d tried calling after you, yelling your name a couple of times, you had ignored him, not wanting to deal with their antics. he yelled after you once more before the godforsaken nick-name fell from his lips. you stopped immediately, turning on your heels before telling him to not call you that. after that he made it a point to call you it whenever he could.

“first come first serve, princess.” your eye twitched.

“Geto-”

“what’s up with the formalities? can’t call me by my name?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“can you just leave?”

“i already told you-”

“i know what you told me and i’m telling you, it’s my night here and i’d like to practice now.” your tone was stern.

“no.” he stated simply. you guffawed.

“no?”

“no.” you took a deep breath before turning away.

“y’know what, nevermind.” beginning to walk away you heard the sound of his skates against the ice.

“you giving up that easily princess!?” he yelled after you. you turned back around to find him at the door of the rink, coming towards you.

“can you just not? i’m not in the mood for this today.” turning back around and trudging to the locker room. he caught up to you quickly - the advantage of having long legs - grabbing your arm. you pulled away immediately, walking away faster. at that he put out his stick, knocking it against the blade of your right skate, harder than he intended. you hit the ground before you could try to catch yourself. your knees took the brunt of the fall as well as your palms. turning over to sit down you felt a sharp pain in your ankle. as you lifted to assess it you heard a snap, yout foot fell ungracefully. looking down, a piece of the blade of your skate lay next to your shoe.

“shit.” Suguru muttered under his breath. “i- i’m sorry.” you wouldn’t look up at him, staring at your broken skate. he heard your shuddering breath before he saw a tear fall and soak into your stockings. “um- here, let me-”

“asshole.” he reached to help you up but you pulled away. unlacing your other skate and ripping it off, you shot up, grabbing your skates along with the broken blade, stumbling before quickly limping away. “you’re such a fucking asshole.” sniffling and wiping your face, you headed to the locker room. he followed after. “just go away.”

“stop being such a bitch and let me help you.” you stopped and whipped around to face him.

“i’m being bitch?” you questioned exasperatedly. “you broke my fucking skate and i’m being a bitch?!” he had never heard you speak so crudely. you’ve called him an asshole on multiple occasions, him and Satoru but he’d never heard you say fuck. it’s like you refused. “look at what you did! you’ve been torturing me since junior year and i’m the fucking bitch! do you know how much these cost?! how much new ones will cost?!” you were damn near hyperventilating, pacing back and forth.

“i’ll get you a new pair.” you scoffed and put your hands on your hips, facing the wall, the shoes in each one of your hands.

“you'll get me a new pair. you’ll get me a new pair?! do you even know where these came from?!” you were in distress, overwhelmed, Suguru seemed to have that effect on you. “you can’t just get me a new pair, Geto. i can’t believe you.” your voice broke. “i- i always knew you were a dick but i really didn’t you’d go so far to break my skates.”

“it’s really not that big of a deal.” he rolled his eyes.

“not a big deal?” you finally turned to face him, the look on your face did something to him, it actually made him feel… bad. “they were from my grandfather, he made them for me in junior year and the guy who made them closed shop the next year. you can’t get another pair.” shit. shit. he fucked up, bad. he was in too deep now, if he owned up to it now then that would means he’s wrong and Suguru Geto he never been wrong. well, not if you ever asked him.

“this wouldn’t have happened if you had just left.”

“it’s my night Geto, you knew that!”

“yeah well i needed the practice.”

“what the fuck did you think i needed?”

“come on, we both know which one of us is more important here.” you were pissing him off, he was deflecting.

“you can’t be serious.”

“i am. nobody takes you fucking serious, nobody cares about watching you parade around on the rink in your small little fucking skirts.” you looked up to the ceiling and nodded your head.

“right.” you turned away from him. “you’re right.” you walked away, he heard you go into the locker room and he went back to the ice. eventually he heard the front doors open and close.

----------------

for the next three weeks he had not seen you come into your wednesday practices. he purposely came to the ones he knew you would be at but you had never showed up. he would wait until closing time, staying until the custodial staff would kick him out, you never appeared. he noticed you were in and out of your classes as well. you had the same classes together everyday, civics and economics, some days you would be there but have your head down and constantly checked your phone. other days you weren’t there at all. he had asked your professors if he could have your papers, to make sure you were getting them but each of them had replied that you didn’t need them, you were all caught up.

you didn’t come to your teams practices either, luckily you had always taught them the drills you came up with way beforehand. if Suguru had ever cared to look deeper into who you are (which he’d never admit that he did) he would maybe, possibly, just maybe own up to the fact that he might admire the way you carried yourself. you’re a great captain, an amazing skater, and an even better student. you’re just up there with him and Satoru. he’ll never tell you that though. he oftentimes wondered what you thought about him. did you think he was smart? a good skater? do you think he’s attractive? he wants to know if you think of him the way he thinks of you. he’ll never ask.

eventually you came back. two more weeks of not being there, then, he saw you again. you were in class, back at practice, running drills and laughing with your friends. but he noticed something different, you were more reserved, if you weren’t with your friends you weren’t with anyone at all. your smile didn’t reach your eyes like it usually did. after practice you left immediately, not waiting for everyone to leave like you usually did. you were out of the door before anybody could say bye. you weren’t you. Suguru looked after you, even if you weren’t aware, he did. he made sure when him and Satoru picked on you they never went too far. when he heard other guys on the team talk about you, he shut it down almost immediately. Suguru cared, he’d never outright show it or tell you but he did.

even now that you’re back you still weren’t coming to your wednesday practices. at some point he stopped going for “practice” and would wait for you to walk through the doors. you never did. he got around to asking one of your teammates, Yari, where you had been. she told him you found a new rink, a better one. apparently you knew the manager well and he would give you the space for two nights a week. she had said you lucked out, the rink was spacious and had more to offer. Suguru thanked Yari by finger-fucking her in the back office. she walked out dazed with a blissed out smile on her face while he sat… disgusted. he didn’t even like her. he didn’t like a lot of the girls he slept with, he just did. building up a reputation of one of the best fucks on campus, besides Satoru of course.

he’s always wanted one girl. he’s always wanted you but you’ve never paid him any mind. around campus he’s heard about you, the boyfriend you had in junior year, how much he hurt you and how you swore off relationships after. choosing to focus on school like you had promised yourself you would once entering the university. Suguru had a girlfriend, plenty of them. they never lasted, he couldn’t stay tied down to one girl. eyes always wandering. he broke up with them before it got too serious. he liked them enough to get with them just… not enough to stay.

walking into class you were heading to, looking at your phone checking your grandfather's location to make sure he was home like you told him to be. stopping in your tracks when you came across big black combat boots. looking up he had an all black outfit to match, like usual. his hair was down in a low bun, some strands framing his face. rolling your eyes and breathing out a sigh as you looked at him.

“what do you want?” sitting up in his - your - seat he sat down his pencil on the desk.

“you weren’t here.” he shrugged.

“so you took my seat?” he could see the annoyance bleeding onto your face.

“it’s not like you were here to stop me.” you just looked at him like he was stupid.

“fine.” moving away and three rows behind him, you plopped down into a random desk. he grabbed all his stuff and took up the desk next to you. you looked at him before looking away and to the window. your leg started bouncing up and down. “you just don’t give up do you?”

“give up what?”

“what do you want, Geto?” you turned towards him. “what do you want? you want me to cry again? you want me to grovel?”

“no. i just-”

“then what?”

“i was gonna say sorry but never-fucking-mind.”

“you were gonna say sorry?” you laughed in his face. “that’s a good joke, Geto.” for some reason that got on his nerves.

“what? i can’t apologize?”

“it’s not that you can’t. you don’t.” you’re right. “i don’t care anyway. so even if you do, it doesn’t matter.” he didn’t know what to say so for the rest of class he sat in silence. when the bell rang you packed your things up and left quickly. it was the last class of the day and he watched the direction you went in, he knew where you were headed so he followed. when you walked into the rink it was completely empty. you stopped in your tracks.

“all practices were canceled today.”

“you’re telling me now?”

“you didn’t get the email?”

“obviously not, Geto.” turning to leave you push past him but he grabs your arm. looking up into those brown eyes of his you try to pull away but he grips harder. “can you let go now?”

“why do you act like that?” you look at him confused.

“act like what.”

“like you hate me.”

“maybe cause i do.” you rip away from him, heading to the doors. he quickly catches up and blocks you from leaving. you let out a huff and try to push past him. “move.”

“you don’t hate me.”

“why wouldn’t i?” you look up at him. “hm? you make fun of my uniforms. you always say my drills suck. you and Satoru make fun of my team and my sport. you comment on the way i skate. hell, you broke my skates. skates i can’t get back. so why wouldn’t i?”

“hate isn’t in your vocabulary.” he states, simply. he’s right, it’s not but would you let him know that?

“yeah? how would you know?” he stared at you, questioning whether you did hate him or not. you were right, how would he know? pulling away from him you turn towards the locker rooms, if practice was canceled here today you would go somewhere else. he watched you for a second, contemplating leaving before he followed after you quickly. grabbing your things from your locker you watched him walk into the women’s locker room. “you’re not supposed to be in here-” he rushed over to you and before you could finish your sentence, his lips covered yours. his kiss was rough, lips moving over yours hurriedly, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. your arms stayed at your side and your eyes were wide. you pushed him away, making space between your bodies. “what is wrong with you?” you were panting, chest rising and falling quickly.

he moved in again, lips back on yours, this time you didn’t pull away. your bag fell off your shoulders and your new skates fell to the ground. your lips met his harshly, your fingers tangling in his hair. you pulled him down towards you, hunching him over. his hands slid around your waist to grip onto your shirt. he pushed you back into the lockers, the metal clanging as your body met them, he quickly spun you around, your torso pressing into the metal. he sucked on your ear and trailed wet kisses down your neck, the metal ball of his tongue piercing trailing down your skin. he panted into your skin as he ground his hardening cock on your ass.

“if you’re gonna fuck me Geto, get it over with.” you breathed. his hand wrapped around your neck, arching your back and resting your head against his shoulder.

“is that how you should talk to me? i’ll leave you right here.”

“your loss.” you shrugged, pushing him away to grab your things. before you could stray too far he pushed you back against the lockers. he made quick work of unbuttoning his pants and tugging them down just below his dick then, he pulled down your sweatpants, they pooled around your ankles. he ground his cock into your backside and groaned into your neck. his precum dripped on your back as he humped your ass. “hurry up.” you grumbled. sliding his tip through your folds, he pressed into your hole, sliding in only the tip before slipping back out. he did this over and over again until you were huffing in annoyance.

behind you, his face was beet red. he was panting, teasing you and himself in hopes of dragging this out for as long as he possibly could. finally over it, you stamped your foot down, ready to completely push him off of you. he didn’t give you the chance, stuffing his cock all the way into you at once, shuffling forward to press his entire body into yours. you yelped out as his entire length throbbed in you, shaping your ways to accommodate for every ridge and vein. he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken, so thick you’re sure your walls are stretched to the fullest and so long you could feel him in your throat.

“oh, fuck.” he moaned behind you. his heart was pounding in over-exertion. he was focusing so hard on trying not to cum so soon. he gave you time to adjust and time for himself to calm down before he busted before he even started. he groaned into your neck as you clenched around him, trying to get used to his girth.

“fuck, move.”

“you sure?”

“please, come on, just move Geto.” he nodded his head. giving one exploratory thrust, trying to gauge how you feel, how he'd feel. he moaned as his cock moved in and out of you. he could already feel the coil winding up within his lower stomach, he wasn’t gonna last. he thrust again, a whimper escaping his lips. your eyebrows raised at the noise. he whimpered. he started to develop a rhythm, hips moving languidly against yours. his hands moved up your body, gripping your boobs through your shirt, you’re not wearing a bra. he pinched your nipples through your shirt and a noise escaped your lips. the prettiest moan fell from your lips.

he angled his hips differently and he hit that certain spot in you just right. a louder moan exited your mouth and he whimpered at it. your moans are so pretty, so pretty they made his dick throb. little “ah, ah, ah’s” left your lips at each thrust, everything about him took over your entire being. all you could feel was his hands on your body, all you could smell was his cedarwood and vanilla cologne. you were drowning in him, every sense revolved around him. Suguru couldn’t feel anything else besides your tight walls gripping him. you were so tight around him his eyes rolled back. he’d never been so vocal before, let alone whined to a girl he was fucking.

you brought something in him, something he didn’t know existed. a need. a need for him to express how good you’re making him feel. “faster.” he shook his head against your shoulder. “come on, Geto, faster.”

“i can’t, fuck,” he whined. “i’ll cum, i’ll fucking cum and it’ll all be over.”

“already?” you moaned out a scoff. “i’m not even close, Geto.” he thrust into you faster. his length continuously brushing over you g-spot. one hand that was gripping your boob moved down to rub circles over your clit. his fingers were nimble and quick but messy. the circles are uncoordinated but good enough to make your thighs shake. you're so wet it's dripping down your thighs and getting on his, his hand is soaked now.

“stop calling me that.” he whined. “say my name.”

“that is your name-”

“no. my name please.” he sounded so pretty whining for you.

“Suguru.” he moaned. “i’m gonna cum, Suguru.” you were the one whining now.

“please.” he rubbed your clit faster, hurriedly thrusting into you. you met him thrust for thrust, moving with him. “fuck, just like that, princess.” the claps of skin on skin could be heard throughout the locker room. you pray to whatever God out there that no one is here. “i’m gonna cum, i need you to first.” he licked a stripe up your neck, leading to your ear before he bit at your lobe. his nose pressed into your ear and he panted into your skin, harsh breaths against you. all the stimulation was getting to you, his fingers rubbing at your clit, his other hand grabbing your boob, his mouth breathing heavily against you and biting at you. the final straw was when he moved his hand from your chest to your neck, squeezing slightly, just enough to make your breathing labored and make you dizzy. your head fell to his shoulder and you dear damn screamed out as you came.

your thighs shook violently as you creamed around Suguru. the essence of your orgasm dripping down his cock. his mouth dropped open as he felt you clench and unclench around him. he moaned out as he felt his own orgasm creeping up on him. “pull out.” you whimpered. “Suguru, pull out.” he didn’t want to, God, he didn’t want to. finally building up enough strength, he pulled out. his hand wrapped around his tip, jerking his cock quickly, your wetness helping his hand glide smoothly up and down his skin. the first spurt of his cum landed on your back, the warm fluid dripped down your back. the rest came and he moaned with each one. his chest heaved as he came, possibly the hardest he has since his first time, maybe better than that. there was so much of it too, long thick strings painted on your back. he removed his grip from his dick and ran his thumb through the small puddle on your back, smearing it across your skin.

“that was…” he huffed out a breath, smiling up at the roof.

“yeah, let’s not talk about it.” you were quick to pull up your pants.

“what?” Suguru followed after, pulling up his pants, buttoning them, and buckling his belt. “i thought- i thought it was good. you thought it was good right?” you gathered all your things and headed to the door.

“it was fine.”

“just fine?” you were rushing to the front door. “come on, it was more than just fine. Y/N, look at me.” you kept going, not sparing him a glance. “come on.” he reached out for you, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to him. “look at me.”

“for what?!” you yelled at him. “for what? it happened. you can go brag about it.”

“you think i’m gonna brag about it?”

“that’s what you do, Geto. you fuck some girl and go tell the team about it or some boy in your frat. next thing you know the whole school knows about it and that girls just some whore. i’ve gone this fucking long without being caught up in this shit and you corner me once now i’m one of them.” tears built up in your eyes. “at least give me the courtesy of not saying my name.” you walked away from him, leaving him to stand alone, stunned.

----------------

Geto didn’t tell anyone. it’s been two weeks and he hasn’t muttered a single word about what happened in the rink. he didn’t even tell Satoru, the only person in the world he tells everything. ever since it happened you wouldn’t even look at him. if he caught your eyes you would immediately cast yours down. you went back to avoiding him and he hated it, he fucked up. he still can’t explain what came over him that night, he doesn’t know why it happened but he can’t take it back now. he thought it would open the door for something, some way in for him. it didn’t.

one of your friends, Reí, had noticed something was up with you. you were quieter, there was this awkward air to you. she approached you one day when you were leaving class.

“hey, what’s up with you?” you were heading to the quad, it was lunch time and you had some extra work you’d like to get done, you figured fresh air would be good for you.

“nothings up with me.” you chuckled awkwardly. you took a seat on a bench under a shady tree. the sky was a little muted today, the fall season in full effect, it wasn’t a bright day like it usually would be. the sky not a bright blue and the sun not shining as much as it would. it seemed as though the earth was reflecting your mood.

“come on, Y/N/N, be honest with me.” she laughed. “what’s up?” you huffed a bit as you looked over your campus. a gust of wind blew past you, blowing your hair over your shoulder.

“i fucked up.” you whispered.

“you? you never fuck up.” Reí tried to joke.

“i did, i do. i- i don’t know.” you began to pick at your nails.

“what happened?” you sighed before turning to look her in her eyes.

“there’s this guy.”

“a guy?”

“yeah.”

“so… what about this guy? do you like him? is that it, you like a guy?”

“no. i don’t like this guy, that’s the problem.”

“well Y/N/N, i don’t think it’s that much of a problem. you don’t like him, it can’t be that serious. right?”

“we fucked.”

“oh!”

“we fucked and i don’t know what to do.” you sobbed, tears running down your face. Reí moved closer and pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you and petting your hair. she shushed you as you cried into her neck. “i don’t do that type of thing and- and ever since J i haven’t done anything and then this one guy comes out of nowhere and just fucks it all up!”

“it’s ok, we all have flings in college, it’s cool.”

“no! it’s not just a fling, Reí, i hate this guy.” your sentences came out in broken sobs. “that was never supposed to happen and now when everyone finds out they’re gonna think i’m some slut for letting it happen.” you pulled back to look at her, your lower lip trembling as you spoke.

“why would anybody think that?” she tucked pieces of your hair behind your ear and wiped your tears.

“cause that’s what everybody thinks.” you looked down and played with your hands. “everyone here thinks all the girls here who have sex are nasty.” you looked back up to her. “i don’t wanna be nasty.” you pouted.

“aww, baby, no one’s gonna think you’re nasty.”

“yes they will.” you nodded at her. “you should’ve heard what they said when me and J broke up. he told them what we did. he told them i let him take my virginity and everyone called me really mean names.” you swallowed harshly. “it took months for everyone to forget about that, until the next thing happened everyone was so mean. i didn’t even do anything! i thought i was just being a good girlfriend.”

“what do you mean?” she gave you a puzzled look.

“J wanted to have sex.” you looked into her eyes. “i told him i wasn’t ready but he told me everyone else was doing it. he said that we should too and i’d be the best girlfriend. i didn’t even know what i was supposed to do.”

“Y/N/N he didn’t… did he?”

“no. i told him it was ok but i regretted it after. he got mad i didn’t wanna do anything anymore so he broke up with me.” another tear trailed down your face. “he told almost everyone. all the girls laughed at me and all they guys called me a prude. said i wasn’t even worth it.”

“he was a dick, Y/N/N. he wasn’t worth it and i’m so sorry that happened.” you shrugged at her. “but, what does this have to do with this guy?” she tilted her head, her pretty brown hair falling over her shoulder.

“cause he’s a dick too. he’s a dick and i know he’s gonna tell everyone.”

“how long ago was it?”

“like… two weeks ago?”

“well, i haven’t heard anything and y’know, most guys wouldn’t wait two weeks to start telling everyone who he fucked, right?”

“i guess.”

“look, i know this is a lot to think about, how about we get your mind off it. let’s go get some lunch, on me?” she was hopeful, she didn’t want to watch you sulk, you’re one of the best and brightest people she knows. you shook your head.

“i have some stuff to do.” you whispered.

“ok. fine, ok. you want me to sit with you?”

“no. i wanna be alone if that’s ok.”

“sure. just- just let me know if you need anything, yeah? i’m always here.” you gave her a nod and she leant down to give you a peck on the forehead before she walked away. she’d always been a good friend to you. looking back out to the campus, you saw his familiar black hair, in a half up half down style now. he walked with some girl - Yari, from your team - he was walking her to the science building and once they reached the front doors, she turned around and smiled at him. they spoke for a bit before he grabbed her by her chin, pulling her to him and planting a kiss on her lips. once he let go she looked up to him, her eyes sparkling.

your heart clenched.

getting up and gathering your things you stormed off and towards your dorm. retreating there for the rest of the day.

Suguru didn’t mean to get involved with Yari. really, it just… happened. he was upset about the situation between you two and she just so happened to be there. the only reason he’s stayed talking to her for this long is because in some way, she reminds him of you. the way her eyes light up when she looks at him, as if he’s hung the moon and the stars, it reminds him of how you used to look at him way back when. before he fucked you over. before he was so mean to you, how your eyes would shine when you looked at him. if he squinted just enough when looking at her, he could see you. ever since that night in the rink, he’s only wanted to see you. to feel you again, to hold you. his hands have been itching to grab for you whenever you two cross paths. not having you is like living hell. he hates it.

finally leaving Yari, he turns around to head to his own class. making his way across the quad he sees a figure hurriedly walking in some direction. when he looks over at it, he recognizes it’s you. he wants to follow you, so bad. but he knows he shouldn’t, if he did you’d probably have his head on a stake.

----------------

another week had passed before you started feeling somewhat like yourself again. Reí had decided to take you out a couple of days ago. she took you to the diner not too far off campus, you two talked over milkshakes and french fries. she didn’t pry too much but talking to her made you feel like you had a weight lifted off your chest. it felt great. practice was canceled again today, something about one of the coaches having a family emergency, so the rink was free for the day.

you decided to take it over for the night. one of the custodians told you no one was coming in tonight so you were free to have it. you were trying to get one specific move down, the same one you’ve been trying to learn since freshman year. it was a move all hockey players used. a hockey stop, simple yet, you’d once seen Suguru spin and come to a full hockey stop. you’d wondered how he did it. while your sports were similar there was a clear difference between them. figure skaters were gentle with their movements and it took more agility to follow through with them. hockey players were more aggressive. hockey was about defense and brutality, the players were more up-front and they lacked flexibility.

while you were a figure skater, you did appreciate hockey and had taken a liking to practicing their moves. you’d even introduced some into the choreography of your team, giving some contrast to the ensemble. the harshness of the hockey moves plus the gentleness of figure skating make for a beautiful scene. you’ve mastered the hockey stop, it’s an easy move but when you had watched Suguru do a complete 360 and come to the stop it was something you had wanted to do as well. while you’d seen him do it years ago it never really left your head and with the new choreography you were coming up with, you wanted to include the move.

you were getting closer, you think. well, it was better than before. at first you had completely busted your ass, sliding along the ice and hurting your chin. now most times when you fell, you went down slower. able to catch yourself before you fell on your ass again. as you were practicing you fell again, sitting down and huffing out a breath. the ice nipped at your legs through your tights and you sat for a second, looking up at the roof before looking down to play with your hands. what you hadn’t noticed was a guest within the seats, watching you as you tried to ace the move over, and over again.

“you’re putting too much weight on your back foot.” your head shot around quickly, turning to face the booming voice. you rolled your eyes when you looked at him. there he stood, 6 '2'' stature wearing all black, his arms at his side and his jet black hair falling over his wide shoulders.

“can you just go away?”

“can i help you?” the question was genuine, he wanted to help. and maybe spend time with you.

“no.”

“why not?”

“cause i don’t want your help.” you deadpanned. Suguru got up and walked away, you thanked God he chose to adhere to your request. getting back up, you went to the other side of the rink, skating yourself across the ice. you turned backwards and put your left leg out, turning into a camel spin, both your arms placed straight out to your sides. bringing your leg back down for an upright spin, putting an abrupt stop to the turn you jut out your right leg for the hockey stop. just as you thought you had gotten it, you fell back onto your palms. sitting back down and heaving out another sigh, you were ready to give up for the day. just as you were ready to go, you heard the doors to the rink being opened. you turned to see Suguru walking onto the ice. falling out and splaying yourself along the ice you groaned quite dramatically.

“get up.” he stood over you.

“i told you to go away.” you looked to him, one eye closed as the light shined in it.

“i told you i was going to help.”

“i don’t need your help. i’m done.” you sat up, getting on your knees to stand up fully. Suguru grabbed your arm pulling you up and into him. “can you get off of me?” instead of responding, he started skating to the opposite side of the rink, dragging you along with him. once you reached the corner, he let go.

“show me.” he gestured to the rink.

“yeah, i’d rather not.” you were going to walk away but he grabbed you and turned you towards the open space of the rink.

“you want to get it down right? show me.” his voice was soft as he spoke to you. you contemplated for a second. you could leave and go home or you could get help from the person who inspired the move. going home seemed like a really good option. getting into position, you started skating before doing just as you had done before, camel into an upright spin and full hockey stop. once again tipping over and landing on your ass. “like i said, you’re putting too much weight on your back foot, that’s why you keep falling back. and you can’t just stop, it’s too much force, you need to build up some sort of momentum so there’s something to combat the weight of your body.” his arms were crossed over his chest as he spoke to you, muscles bulging even through his black shirt. you were staring at the veins in his hands before you quickly brought your eyes up to his then looked away.

“sure.” taking up your spot next to him you did as he said, once again a camel into an upright spinning and once your right foot met the ice again, you gave yourself a slight push before coming into the hockey stop. this time you didn’t fall onto your ass, landing on one of your knees instead. slightly better.

“you’re not compensating enough for your own weight, look.” Suguru started his own skate and turned into a spin, not exactly an upright one but close enough. as the turn came to a close, he pushed himself forward again, quite harshly, before stopping. “see, you need a counter for yourself. just stopping isn’t enough to carry you. now you do it.” this time when you did it, following through with an extra push, you didn’t fall. instead you had tripped forward and bumped into the wall. “now you’re putting too much weight on your front foot. you need to find a balance. do we have to run first year training drills?”

“i’m not some freshman, Geto. i know what i’m doing.” you snapped.

“do you?” you stared at him quizzically before giving up.

“nevermind. i’m done.” walking away you headed to the door.

“wait.” you paused. “i- i don’t mean to be rude or anything. i’m actually trying to help.”

“you think you’re gonna help by demeaning my skill set? i’m captain for a reason.”

“i’m not trying to. i’m captain too, remember?”

“we play two different sports.”

“yeah, and you’re trying to perfect one of my moves. let me help you.”

“i can do it by myself.” you turned to face him.

“i’m not saying you can’t. but i know it pretty well and i can show you how to do it.” you stared at him blankly. “listen, if… if i help you get this right, you can teach me some moves from your team.” that got your attention.

“really?”

“yeah.” you slowly skated to him.

“ok.” for the next hour, Suguru had shown you how to incorporate a hockey stop into your routine. you had finally gotten to a point where you didn’t fall at all. the move could use a little work but it was way better than what you had before. once you had finally gotten it, you were so excited you jumped with glee, somehow making your way into Sugurus arms. his large arms had wrapped around you as you hugged him. when you noticed where you were, you immediately backed out of his embrace.

“sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you began to slowly skate backwards.

“i should go now, it’s pretty late.” your voice came out quietly and you pointed behind you. Suguru began to skate toward you.

“or, we can stay, practice a little longer?”

“i- um, i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“why not?” he was in front of you. you had skated yourself so far back and somehow, into a wall.

“cause.”

“because?” there’s a small space left between your bodies and Suguru had reached forward, pulling you into him, he leaned down, inching his face closer to yours. “because what?” he whispered against your lips.

“cause- um,” he pressed himself closer to you, torso to torso. “cause-” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as he gently pressed his lips to yours. you sighed into his mouth as your lips met. you wrapped your arms around his neck, falling into him as you breathed him in. he deepened the kiss, parting your lips with his own and sliding his tongue against yours. you moaned into his mouth and he groaned against yours. suddenly, reality hit you and you pulled away. “what is wrong with you?”

“huh?”

“don’t act dumb, Geto, oh my God. i- i can’t.”

“can’t what?” you pressed a hand to your forehead and began to skate away.

“what are you gonna tell your girlfriend?”

“girlfriend? i- i don’t-”

“what?” you turned back to him. “she doesn’t have to know? don’t give me that.”

“Y/N, what fucking girlfriend are you talking about.”

“Yari!” you exhaled, exasperated.

“Yari’s not my girlfriend.”

“so you’ve been doing this with her too? what, you fucked her in the locker room like you did me? does your girlfriend know about her-”

“i don’t have a girlfriend!” he yelled over you.

“then why do i always see you with Yari?!”

“see me with her? i’m never with her.”

“yes you are, Suguru! you’re always with her! i see you parading around campus with her, walking her to class, sitting out on the quad with her. she- she comes to practice talking about you.” you began picking at your nails.

“i-” he didn’t know what to say, you’re right, he’s always with her. it’s not his choice, she just follows him around everywhere. he told her to leave him alone last week but she swore they had something special, that she loved him and knew he loved her too. talk about delusional.

“so i’m right?” you scoffed. deciding to exit from the conversation, you began to skate to the exit. Suguru quickly caught up, grabbing your hand, he turned you to him.

“you’re wrong.” you just stared at him, a glazed over look in your eye. “she’s not my girlfriend. yeah, ok, we did something but that was it. i fucked with her for a while but i told her i didn’t like her, she just- she won’t leave me alone. i don’t have a girlfriend, at all. i don’t want one.”

“so what’s this supposed to be?” you gestured between the two of you with your free hand.

“i didn’t mean it like that.”

“then what did you mean?”

“Satoru’s having a thing tomorrow night,”

“i don’t do parties.”

“it’s not a party,” he rushed out. “Satoru said it’s just a little get together with some friends. can you stop by? maybe we can talk then?” you wanted to say no, there’s nothing to talk about but your mind didn’t have time to catch up with your body. you were nodding your head before a word could be muttered. “ok.” he let go of your hand, it was then that you realized your fingers were intertwined.

when you finally got back to your room that night, you screamed into a pillow. every pent up emotion that was building inside of you from spending so much time with Suguru escaping as you yelled. you couldn’t believe you let him get to you, again. and you can’t believe you agreed to meet him tomorrow night. what was wrong with you.

----------------

the next day flew by, your classes went by smoothly, Suguru staring at you from across the room in the ones you had together. practice was a little rushed, it was a friday and a break was coming up, everyone was excited to get out. now you sat in your dorm, staring at your phone as the time ticked by. it was 7:23, Suguru never gave you a time to show up. what time were you supposed to come? were you already late? would he be mad? you sat for another hour, finally leaving the comfort of your room and heading across campus to the frat house.

walking up to the house, lights were flashing and music was booming. people were sitting outside, all huddled up because of the cold, passing around a blunt. “so much for a ‘small get together.’” you muttered to yourself. approaching the front door, you walked in and were immediately hit with the smell of a college party. sweaty bodies jumped and rubbed against each other, others were making out somewhere in a corner. looking over the area, you tried to spot his tall stature and black hair. when you didn’t see him you moved into the crowd. walking through the people and moving to the kitchen, you grabbed a water bottle before going back to searching around. after searching for a while, you gave up, finding one of his frat brothers instead. “have you seen Suguru?” he looked you up and down before responding.

“you that crazy bitch?”

“huh?”

“you that crazy bitch?” he said, more pointedly.

“what crazy bitch?”

“what’s her name? um, she’s on the figure team.”

“Yari?”

“yeah! that’s you?”

“i’m not Yari.” he squinted his eyes before shrugging.

“upstairs, second door to the left. knock.” that’s all he said before turning to walk over to a group of girls, they all looked at you weird before he approached them. going up the stairs, you almost made it to the top before you saw him. his broad stature leaned against a wall, hair tied back in a bun, his arms crossed over his chest as he spoke. he sat talking to some girl, eyes hooded as he looked at her, a smirk on his face. you stared at the two, her short brown hair falling to one side as she tilted her head. walking back down the steps, especially quiet so they wouldn’t hear you, you headed back to the kitchen. you leaned against the counter, gripping the sides. ok, if he wants to be all over every girl, you can be all over every guy.

stomping out of the kitchen you looked around before making your way to the makeshift dance floor. you slipped in between the bodies, finding your way to the middle. settling into the people grinding on each other, you tapped the shoulder of some random guy, Haibara his name is, another brother of the frat, you asked if he wanted to dance. he looked between you and the girl he was dancing with before completely turning to you, letting out and enthusiastic, “sure!” you heard the girl mutter something before she walked away angrily. turning around, you pulled the boy closer to you, pressing your ass to his crotch, you heard a stuttered breath escape his lips.

you placed his hands on your hips and swayed slowly, grinding against him to the beat of the song. you saw Suguru make his way down the steps slowly, one arm hanging over the shoulder of the girl, they laughed together loudly. out of spite, you dragged one of Haibara's hands up your body slowly. his breathing grew heavier behind you. you knew he was shy, one of the more reserved brothers of the frat. he only joined because Satoru and Suguru made Nanami join and by association, him. you felt bad, you weren’t sure what he was comfortable with and here you were making him feel you up. he didn’t seem to care though, pulling you closer and laying his forehead on your shoulder. Suguru saw you from across the room, eyes locking onto you and the figure behind you. you saw him whisper something in the girl's ear and she looked over too, she gestured to you and Haibara, Suguru kissed her forehead quickly and let go.

he quickly made his way over to you two. when he reached you, he grabbed your forearm and pulled you away from the brunette boy. “hey- oh! what’s up Suguru.” Haibara smiled.

“nothing.” he dragged you along with him as he walked away, taking you to the steps.

“let go of me.” you tried to pull away but his grip grew more firm. “Suguru let go-” he spun you around when you reached the first step pushing you up against the wall. people around stared for a while before going back to minding their business.

“Haibara?” he questioned, his nostril flaring as he breathed.

“what?”

“i come downstairs cause someone told me you’re looking for me and i catch you fucking with Haibara?”

“why does it matter?” you rolled your eyes.

“cause it fucking does.”

“but it doesn’t matter when it’s you though, right?”

“what are you talking about.”

“i go upstairs to find you and i see you laughing and giggling with some girl? the same thing with Yari. it’s cool when you do it, right?”

“some girl?” he stared at you for a second before he started laughing.

“what’s so funny?” he continued to laugh, damn near hunched over now.

“aww, princess.” he stood back up, you glared at him. “you jealous?”

“jealous?” you said incredulously. “why would i be jealous of anything you do?”

“that was Ieiri, princess, my best friend.”

“oh…”

“yeah and i told you i don’t like Yari.”

“you don’t act like it.” was your quick reply.

“ok.” he stepped back. “go upstairs.”

“for?” he stepped back into your personal space.

“go upstairs, when i get up there i want you sitting down in just that pretty little set i know you have on for me.” he whispered in your ear. your face felt like it was on fire.

“i- i don’t have on a set.”

“i know you do, princess.” he walked away, going to the kitchen, before he passed the threshold he looked back to you, raising his eyebrow at you. you turned around and walked up the steps, going straight to his room. once you entered, you contemplated for a second, would you really do this? yes. you took off your shirt first, letting it fall to the floor, you fixed the cups of your pretty bra before unbuttoning your pants. you let them pool around your ankles before kicking them off. you sat on the bed, tucking your legs under yourself and placing your hands on your knees. you sat there for maybe two minutes picking at your thumbs. the door opened and you jumped a bit.

Suguru entered with two water bottles in his hands and something wrapped up. he smiled when he saw you sitting so prettily on his bed. you stood out against his dark sheets. the bright pale blue and pinks of your lingerie contrasting with his dark gray bedspread. “you look so pretty like that.” he sat the things in his hands down and walked over to you, cupping his hand under your chin and tilting your head up. he ran the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down and then letting it pop back up into place. he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, it quickly grew messy, “open.” he murmured against your lips. you parted your lips, looking up to him with wide eyes. he let a glob of spit from his mouth fall into yours. “swallow.” he watched your throat bob up and down, you could taste the fruit punch he drank earlier. he tasted sweet. “sit back and spread your legs for me.” you looked up at him as he stood back up, leaning himself against his dresser. “you gonna do it or do i have to make you?”

you crawled up to his headboard slowly on all fours, he watched you, his cock twitching in his pants as he watched you ass sway side to side. he cleared his throat as you settled against his pillows. you spread your legs for him, watching him from across the room. “what do you want me to do?” you asked in a whisper.

“i want you to fuck yourself on you fingers like you do when you think of me.”

“i-”

“what?”

“i don’t think of you.”

“come on, princess, we both know you do. why else would you get your panties in a twist when you see me with another girl?” you sighed, looking down at yourself. “pull those pretty little panties to the side and spread yourself open on your fingers.”

“ok.” you whispered. your fingers twitched nervously, not sure what to do with him staring at you.

“just pretend i’m not here, pretty girl, it’s ok.” you nodded your head. everything around you was so irrecoverably him, the sheets were soft against him and smelled like him, so warm. if you focused hard enough you could hear his breathing from across the room. closing your eyes you began to slowly trail your fingers down your body, hyper aware of your own touch. you dragged your fingers back up your stomach and to your chest, cupping your boobs through your bra. “take it off.” you obliged, quickly unclipping the offending garment and letting it fall off the side of the bed. “fuck.” you could hear the sound of a zipper and some shuffling. pinching your nipples you let out a soft sound, tweaking both of them between your thumb and forefinger. letting one hand trail down your body again, you dragged it down and began to run circles over your clit on top of your underwear.

“Suguru.” you moaned softly. he groaned at the noise. you slipped your hand into your underwear, the stimulation sent sparks up your spine. dragging your fingers down to your hole, you circled it before slipping your middle finger in. you could hear a wet noise coming from where he is and the idea of him pulling on his cock to your fingering yourself pulled a moan out of you. slipping another finger into yourself, you moved them faster, the pads of them rubbing against your walls.

“go faster. wanna hear it.” he panted. wanted to hear it..? oh. oh. he wanted to hear the sound of your wetness as you fucked yourself. your back arched as you fucked yourself faster. your other hand continued to tweak at your nipple. you moaned out as you felt your stomach clench.

“Suguru! i’m gonna cum!” your toes curled and you whimpered. you could hear his stuttered breathing and he jerked himself off.

“let me see, pull your panties down.” he panted. your hand quickly moved to tug the gusset of your panties to the side. Suguru watched your fingers move in and out of you. his dream was finally coming true, the one girl he wanted was splayed out on his bed, fucking herself on her fingers, moaning out his name. his orgasm was building up quickly, he was going to bust everywhere from just watching you. you clenched around your fingers, mouth dropping open as you orgasm washed over you. you arched off the bed, moaning Sugurus name over and over again. he watched as you came, the way your essence dripped around and seeped through your fingers, how your chest raised and fell as you breathed heavily. Suguru groaned as he played with his tip, thumb running over it and you looked at him when you heard the noise.

“Sugu,” you whined. “wanna see you cum,” his jaw dropped and a small noise escaped his lips. “please.” he came all over his hand and the floor. spurts of his cum falling from his tip and he groaned as he came. you’re gonna be the death of him. once he regrouped, he walked over to you, kneeling above you as he looked into your eyes. he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips and taking the two fingers that were just inside of you and putting them in his mouth. you moaned as he sucked on your fingers and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“you taste so good, princess.” your hand fell from his mouth back to your side. “wanna taste for myself, flip over.” you took too long to listen to him so he flipped you over himself. he had you on your hands and knees, back arched for him. he went behind you, watching your pretty pussy drip for him. “fuck.” he whispered to himself. one hand rubbed over your ass as the other pulled your panties down. you kicked them off completely and he sniffed them before dropping them off the bed. “count.”

“huh?” slap! one loud clap against your ass, you yelped out at the initial pain but it eventually turned into a pleasurable stinging sensation.

“count.” he said more firmly.

“one,” slap! “two,” slap! “three…” on and on he spanked you again and again. you counted all the way up to eleven before he let up. your ass stung from the spanking but the line between pleasure and pain was blurred. it hurt so bad it felt good. you whimpered when he circled his hands over your ass. before you could recognize what was going on, you felt a stripe being licked from your clit to your clenching hole. “Sugu!” you looked behind you to see him hunched over, sucking harshly on your clit as he spread your ass. another stripe licked up to your hole before he slipped his tongue in, you clenched around it, the cold metal of his piercing contrasted against the warmth of your walls and you swore you saw heaven. you shook as he fucked you with his tongue, falling onto your front your back arched perfectly for him as you pushed back against him.

the sounds were obscene, you could hear his tongue working against you and him groaning into your pussy. you moaned when he landed another slap to your ass, he gripped and jiggled it against his face. “oh my- fuck!” you squealed. he tongue licked and prodded against your walls as he ate you out. your thighs began to tremble, toes curling as your legs shook. his mouth moved down from your hole to your clit and you felt two of his fingers prodding at your entrance. his thick middle and ring fingers stretched you open he slipped them into you. he sucked on your clit and pressed his long fingers into that one spot inside of you. you whined loudly and he fucked you open on his fingers. “S-Sugu,” you slurred. “Sugu i’m gonna cum..!” you squeaked. he continued to work at you and another orgasm was building up in you. you kicked your feet as you felt your orgasm approaching but this felt different.

the coil in your stomach wound up tighter, you felt a pressure on your bladder and you trembled. you reached behind you blindly, grabbing Sugurus head and tangling your fingers in his hair. you felt him moan against you as you did so. “Sugu s-stop, i’m gonna pee.” you whined. he kept going, he either didn’t hear you or didn’t care but either way, he wasn’t gonna stop. “Sugu, wait!” he sucked harder at your clit and pressed his fingers into your g-spot. your toes curled as your back arched and you screamed out. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and all you saw was white. all you felt was your body shaking and wetness dripping down your thighs. your legs trembled at the earth-shattering orgasm and you whined and trembled at every touch you felt. Suguru moaned and groaned behind you, getting absolutely soaked as you squirted all over him and his bed. “Suguru!” you cried out, your feet kicked as he kept going.

“one more, just give me one more princess, i know you can.” you sobbed as he went back to sucking on your clit. another orgasm was building up quickly, your entire body shook as he sucked and prodded at you.

“Suguru,” you cried out. “i can’t.”

“yes you can, i know you can.” he muttered against you. tears were streaming down your face, you shook and trembled with every pass of his tongue. your one hand gripped his hair as the other gripped the sheets. the next orgasm came quickly and you cried out as it took over your body. his bed was almost completely soaked through because of you. the essence of your orgasm streaked down your thighs. he let go of you, sitting back on his knees and your body relaxed. you fell against the sheets, they stuck against your body because of how soaked they were. he watched you take deep breaths, your body slowly calming down. you could feel some shuffling behind you and hear the sound of fabric ruffling. you felt the weight of the bed shift, Suguru leaned above you, trailing kisses up your spine.

you felt his weight against your back as he laid on top of you. he kissed and licked at your neck, breathing into your ear. he took all his clothes off, he laid completely naked on top of you, his bare chest pressing against your back. you could feel everything, every outline of his abs against your back, you could also feel his cock pressing into your ass. grabbing his dick he ran his tips through your folds, collecting your wetness and smearing it along his cock. he pushed your left leg up, spreading you open for him and lifting your ass up so he could slip in easily. he pressed his tip into you, slowly slipping in your walls. you whimpered as you felt him throb within you. “oh, fuck.” he sighed. “you feel so fucking good.” he moaned, resting his head in your neck. you pushed back against him, pressing your ass flush against. he whined into your neck, “you’re gonna kill me.”

“move, please.”

“i can’t.” you got a flashback to the first night he fucked you. “i’ll cum.”

“please, Sugu. please.” you begged.

“ok.” he nodded, “ok.” he thrusted once and whimpered. he built up a steady rhythm, small noises fell from his lips as he fucked himself into you. “so fuckin’ tight, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” he fucked into you harder, the sounds of skin on skin bouncing off the walls of his room. “so much better than those other girls.” your body jerked and you looked behind you. “don’t worry princess, i’m not saying it to make you jealous.” he chuckled. “never had somebody like you, so fuckin perfect. you’re perfect y’know that?” when you didn’t respond he stopped moving. “answer me.”

“yes daddy!” you whined. his eyes crossed and his cock twitched deep within you, he never thought you were one to call somebody daddy, never took you as the submissive type at all. he leaned down over you.

“good girl.” he groaned into your ear. “good fucking girl.” he started moving again, fucking you deeper. his tip nudged your cervix each time from how deep he was and the pain added to your pleasure. you were damn near fucked dumb, any train of thought you had completely gone, all you could focus on was Suguru fucking you. you tightened around him, your orgasm building up in your lower stomach. “fuck, are you close?” you nodded your head. “you gonna cum for me, princess? make a mess all over me, yeah?” one hand trailed down your body, fingers playing with your clit and pushing you closer to the edge. you gripped the sheets hard, you swore you could hear the seams ripping.

“i’m gonna cum, Sugu!”

“hold it.” you shook your head. “you can hold it for me, i know you can.”

“i can’t, i can’t!” you sobbed. “i can’t, daddy, i’m gonna cum, please let me cum.”

“i said ‘hold it,’ right?” your body tensed up completely, your legs locking around Suguru from behind. before you could stop yourself, you were creaming around him. you cried out as you came, eyes crossing and rolling to the back of your head. you squeezed so tight around him he almost slipped out. he groaned as you clenched around him, his face was completely red, eyes hooded as he watched you cum around him. “i thought i told you to hold it.”

“i couldn’t do it.” you sniffled. “‘m sorry daddy.”

“aww, it’s ok baby.” he tucked some of your hair behind your ear, looking at your face. tears stained your face, mascara running down your cheeks, he smiled at you.

“want you to cum, daddy. want you to cum in me.” he groaned at your words, his cock twitched violently inside of you. he completely covered you, laying on top of you and matching his body up with yours. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. he began thrusting into you again, building up a fast pace, chasing his own orgasm.

“i’m gonna cum, right in this pretty little pussy and you’re gonna hold it all inside you. then, you’re gonna walk around the house with it all in you, let everybody know that i did it, let everybody know i’m yours.” let everybody know i'm yours. he wants to kill you. his pace began to falter and he gave a couple of more thrusts before stilling above you. he moaned into your ear, quieting himself by biting your neck. you felt him fill you up, rope after rope of his cum filling you up. you moaned with him, another orgasm taking over your body. Sugurus' body twitched as he came, he sighed out as his orgasm finally passed over him. he relaxed into you, falling on top of you.

“you’re heavy.” he laughed at you, sliding out of you and laying down next to your side. you turned your head to face him, he was already staring at you with a small smile on his face. “what?” your voice was hoarse.

“you’re so pretty,” he said quietly. you looked down before looking back into his eyes.

“thank you.” you whispered. he got up quickly, pulling on his boxer briefs, you sat up, covering yourself with your arms. “where are you going?”

“nowhere.”

“are you leaving?” you asked shyly.

“no, Y/N/N, i’m not leaving.” he walked over to his dresser, grabbing the two water bottles and whatever was wrapped up in the foil. making his way back to the bed, he sat down next to you. “here, drink something, it’ll help your throat.” he opened the water bottle for you. you took it from him and sipped from it slowly. he unwrapped what was in the foil - a sandwich. “eat this.” you took the sandwich from him and ate it. he watched you, he turned over to his nightstand - it was then you noticed the dragon tattoo displayed on his back - he grabbed some wipes and began unpacking them. he wiped the smeared mascara off of your face and wiped some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. “can i?” he gestured to you. you raised an eyebrow at him. “wipe you?”

“oh, you don’t have to.”

“yeah but i want to.”

“ok.” you laid back and opened your legs for him, he got in between them with a new new wipe.

“can you push it out for me?”

“thought you wanted me to keep it all in.”

“just do what i say.” he looked up at you, he looked so good between your legs like this, you’ll have to get him between them like this again.

“yes, daddy.” you rolled your eyes. sighing, you tried your best to squeeze all of his cum out of you. he watched it flow out you in thick globs.

“fuck.” he leaned down, licking at you quickly.

“Sugu!” your thighs closed around his head. “don’t do that. ‘m sensitive.”

“sorry, princess, you just look so good.” he smirked at you. he cleaned you up gently, getting up and searching through his drawers for a shirt and passing you one of his old gray tees. he picked you up and carried you out of the room, you hadn’t even noticed the party had stopped. carrying you to the bathroom and setting you on the sink he grabbed an extra toothbrush and any other thing he thought you would need. “i’m gonna go change the sheets real quick. you can come back to the room when you’re done.” he pecked your lips before exiting the bathroom. you got ready to go to bed, brushing your teeth and washing your face. you dried your hands and left the bathroom. you trekked back into his room, there he sat on the edge of it, scrolling on his phone. he put it down at his side and gestured for you to come over to him. when close enough he grabbed your hips and pulled you to him.

“did you um- did you dry the wet spot?” you asked, embarrassed. his hands rubbed up and down your thighs. your own hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck, his bun was looser now, more hairs framing his face.

“wet spot?” he looked behind him. “oh.” he laughed.

“what’s so funny?” you froze.

“waterproof liner.” you looked at him questioningly. “spilled some shit on my bed once, couldn’t get the stain out so i bought some waterproof liners. do you want to lay down?”

“um, no.”

“why not?”

“cause i should go. y’know, it’s late and i don’t want my roommate-”

“you don’t want to stay here.”

“what? no. that’s not- i’d love to stay.”

“so why don’t you?”

“cause i don’t want you to get tired of me.”

“tired?” you looked down awkwardly.

“i know how this goes, Suguru. i don’t want to stay only to be embarrassed later.”

“i wouldn’t embarrass you-”

“you can’t promise me that.”

“yeah, i can. do you- do you not see how much i care for you?”

“care?”

“i don’t want anybody the way i want you. never have. you make me… you make me feel good.”

“oh-”

“not like that. yeah, you make me feel good.” he chuckled. “but i just, i don’t know, i like the way you look at me.”

“how do i look at you?”

“like you care for me too. i like that. it makes me feel like i mean something.”

“everybody thinks you mean something.” you rubbed at his scalp and he felt shudders down his spine.

“yeah but it’s different. everyone cares cause they think i can do something for them, y’know. it’s fake but when it’s you, it feels right.” your face burned at his words and you looked down shyly.

“oh.” you giggled.

“oh?”

“i didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“why wouldn’t i?”

“cause you’re mean.”

“i am. i’m sorry.”

“you’re sorry?”

“yeah, i just, i didn’t know how to tell you i like you.”

“so you were practically a bully?”

“i guess.” he shrugged and laughed.

“how backwards is that?”

“i’ll have you backwards.” he smirked.

“what does that even mean?!” you laughed.

“wanna find out?”

“huh-” before you could finish, Suguru wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down to the bed next to him. you fell in a fit of giggles and he laughed along with you, silencing you with a kiss. the rest of the tight was spent with shared laughter, kisses, and fingers tangled together. it felt nice, you weren’t used to this side of him. he fell asleep before you, his head resting on his own pillow while one arm stayed on your stomach. you stared at him, watched his eyes flutter under his lids and the way his lips parted as he breathed. you tucked some hair behind his ear and pressed a kiss to his cheek, snuggling into his side, you let sleep overtake you and it may have been the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. it just felt right to be in his arms.

----------------

for the next week you were either in Sugurus' room or somewhere out on the town with him. he kept you fed, hydrated, and full of dick. there were marks up and down your body from him, bites, hickeys, scratches, you had them all. all the brothers of his frat gave you a knowing look whenever you left his room, always in one of his shirts. when he took you out, Suguru made sure to always take you to places you’d never been before. which was pretty easy seeing as you spent most of your time cooped up in your dorm or in the rink. you’d found a new favorite diner, they had the best fries and milkshakes. the first time Suguru had watched you dip your fries into your vanilla shake, he stared at you in disgust. you’d forced him to try it, he had a whole fit before you stuffed his mouth with the fries. he shut up after a while and agreed that it wasn’t that bad, he wouldn’t tell you he actually liked it.

eventually Satoru had found out when he just walked into Sugurus room only to find him balls deep inside you. Suguru yelled at him to get out, throwing a shoe at his head. Satoru quickly slammed the door but not before he let out a wolf whistle at the sight. you were mortified, vowing to never show your face to Satoru again. that was in vain as the next morning at breakfast he had walked into the kitchen and stared at you for a while before exiting and making his way back upstairs. Suguru made sure his best friend would never mention it to you again, knowing how embarrassed you felt to be found in such a vulnerable position.

you sat in Sugurus bed scrolling on your phone while his T.V played a random show in the back. he laid next to you asleep, tired from running around from errands all day. he stirred awake, rubbing at his eyes and looking at you. “g’mornin’.”

“Sugu, it’s one p.m.” you snickered.

“oh. good afternoon.”

“hi.” you giggled. “do you wanna-” there was a knock at the door. Suguru went to get up but you grabbed his bicep. “i got it, lay back down.” you went to open the door. turning the knob, a familiar voice broke through the threshold before you could get it all the way open.

“Geto, have you seen Satoru-” Bri paused as she stared at you. “no fucking way.”

“oh. hey Bri.” you chuckled awkwardly.

“you’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

“what?”

“i can’t see Satoru but you can fuck his best friend.” the anger was obvious on her face.

“i didn’t- i don’t-”

“are we fucking serious right now? you’re gonna lie about it. i thought you were a bitch but this is low even for you.”

“i- i never told you you couldn’t see Satoru and we’re not just fucking-”

“just shut up. you practically shouted how much you hated the idea of me and Satoru together. were you jealous? is that what it was? you were mad because i actually had him and you wanted his best friend? when he’s over you next week, don’t come fucking crying to me.” Suguru jumped up from his bed and stormed over to the door.

“watch your fucking mouth when you’re taking to her.” your breathing stuttered and tears built up in your eyes. “no ones fucking jealous of you, i don’t even know why she’s friends with someone like you. Satoru doesn’t fucking like you, he told you that but you keep coming back here cause you think you can change his mind. let me tell you something, no matter how many times you fuck him, it’ll never change.” he stepped closer to her. “all he sees you as is something to nut in, that’s all everybody sees.” her eyes flickered all over his face. “go some fucking where before you embarrass yourself.” he slammed the door in her face and turned around to you. he saw the tears falling down your cheeks and immediately pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what her problem is, she was out of line.”

“it’s fine. she’s right.” you sniffled out.

“how is she right?” he pulled away from you.

“i am a hypocrite.” you cried. “i told her you and Satoru are dicks and then she finds me with you. it’s wrong.”

“hey, hey.” he cupped your face and made you look up at him. “it’s not wrong, you’re right, me and Satoru are dicks but that doesn’t mean she can just talk to you like that.” you looked down to the floor, closing your eyes. “look at me. she’s the one whose jealous. she’s jealous because she knows Satoru doesn’t like her and you’re here with me. she wants to be you, that’s it. don’t listen to her, ok?”

“ok.” you whimpered.

“how about a nap, yeah. sleep and when you wake up we can get milkshakes and fries.” you nodded and let him pull you down to the bed.

----------------

it took a while for you to cheer up after the situation with Bri. Satoru had stopped talking to her completely after Suguru told him what happened, he’d even apologized for letting it happen when it wasn’t his fault at all. now, you sat on the sides of a rink at a major competition. the TMTC figure skating team had won a spot in a regional competition, schools from four different states were coming to compete and whatever team won got a grant of 7,000 dollars to use to upgrade their schools ice skating rink, an unnecessarily large trophy that sat in a glass case across the rink, and the chance to go to nationals. your team had won the spot at the competition a while ago after winning gold against Kyoto college. while you belonged here, it was proven in the way you participated in the last comp, you were deep in your own head.

you made the team practice non-stop to ace the choreography, making sure everyone was on their a-game. you sat on the bench with your hands on your knees, hands tucked under your chin and one of your knees bouncing up and down. you were nervous, you’d never performed in such a large stadium before, let alone in front of so many people.

Suguru sat in a chair not too far from the rink, close enough to see your features and how nervous you were. he wanted to go out on the ice and hold you, tell you it was ok and he knew you would win because he did. you got this far, you carried your team all the way to this comp, he had no doubt in his mind you would bring gold home. he hoped you knew that as well. your team was up next, two already went before you. it was your time to get ready and you led the team to the locker room. everyone was lacing up their skates in silence, the nerves bouncing off all the girls. once you finished tying your skates you stood in front of them all.

“guys.” you started. “i know i’m not really good at the whole encouraging speech thing but i just wanted you all to know that i’m proud of us. we got all the way here, we made it this far because of our hard work. i don’t want y’all to put too much pressure on yourselves. no matter what we all joined this sport because we love it and it’s fun. we can have fun tonight, don’t let some competitions take the joy out of this. whatever happens tonight, whether we win or we lose, it’s fine. i won’t say i wouldn’t be disappointed if we lost but we got here. we worked our asses off and proved we belong. so when we go out there, i want y’all to show everyone who we are. we’re not just the TMTC figure skating team, we’re girls who all have our own personalities and joined this sport for different reasons. show them that.” everyone clapped and smiled fondly at you, standing up and huddling around. they called for your team on the loud speakers. “alright, this is our time, don’t take it for granted.”

the team left the locker room and you headed out behind them. you all lined up along the ice and waited for your que. the song you had chosen began to play and one by one the line began to disperse. following the choreography you had come up with, the dance started slowly. every girl skated out into a step sequence, their movements following the tempo of the song. the music began to speed up and so did the moves, excluding you there was an even amount of girls on the team, so you paired them in twos. two girls were assigned to each other and executed the choreography together. they did a combination of moves supporting one another. you skated through them, sometimes grabbing onto their waists as they spun around to spin with them, crouching down onto your knees and tucking your head into your shoulders.

the music became louder, the beat progressing and each of your moves becoming harsher, more restricted to display the emotion of the dance. you skated on one leg, through four of the girls, you placed one of your legs down, turning the move onto an upright spin and once you began to spin faster, two sets of hands grabbed your waist stopping you. your turn stopped abruptly, just as you stopped you broke free, skating away from them and towards one wall, just as you reached it, you fell to your knees, turning on them as the rest of the team approached you. they covered your body completely, all of their hands reaching to grab some part of you and just as they moved and light broke through the makeshift cover they made over you, they hoisted you into the air. not too high to the point you’d land dangerously, but enough so you landed and turned, one foot poured out behind you and hands displayed in front of you for balance.

the girls began skating to you quite fast, their moves harsh as they came at you, just before they reached you, they stopped. clasping hands and beginning the next part of the choreo you taught them. while everyone was distracted by their dance, you snuck off into a corner, sitting and waiting for your que. you sat for a minute before your que came up. the girls were lined up once again, like they were when the dance started. they all had their backs turned to you. the music grew again, reaching its crescendo. skating to them, one by one from each row they all turned to you, skating faster and lifting one leg in the air, you held your hands out behind you. bringing that foot back down and jumping, you turned in the air and landed on the opposite foot, now skating backwards, body swaying side to side.

just as you saw the tip of someone’s skate just in your view - strategically placed for you - you brought that leg back down again, pushing yourself forward off the tip of your blade and turning around, you headed for the gap between the girls split directly in the middle. you began to spin again just as you reached the gap some of their hands began reaching for you but stopping the turn, you came to a full hockey stop, falling down into position for a hydroblade. four girls behind you fell dramatically onto another while others began to turn into a sit spin. you laid with your chest pressing against the floor, rising and falling into the ice as you panted. the music stopped abruptly, the rest of the girls falling out of their sitting spins onto the floor as well and for a second all there was was silence. all you could hear was your own breathing before the stadium erupted into loud cheers. claps could be heard all throughout the stadium, whistles and the thumps of people’s boots and sneakers as they jumped.

relaxing and getting up from the ice you turned to the team, everyone was looking around the stadium at all the people clapping for them. from across the arena, Suguru yelled for you. he clapped so hard his hands were red. “that’s my fucking girl!” he goaded, he was so proud of you he felt like his chest could burst. he whooped and yelled for you as you and the team headed back to the locker room. he stood out against everyone else, 6’2” frame wearing all black with jet black hair cheering for some girl on a team wearing a bright pink tutu, it was almost comical. you and the team got undressed in the locker room, all dressed in TMTC tracksuits. you skated back to the rink to sit back on your assigned bench. there are three more teams after you. you had to sit through all of them before the results came in.

the teams after you were so good, you clapped and cheered for them when they finished and it was finally the end of the night. the panelists had called for all teams to come stand in the rink as they announced the winners, the announcements began. people from within the stadium voted on who they wanted to win on the website on their phones, they picked who they thought belonged in first, second and third. the victors for second and third were announced and you let your head hang. you had at least expected third, your performance wasn’t like others, it took a more aggressive approach rather than the usual gentleness of figure skating. maybe you should have stuck to what you knew. preparing for the disappointment of a loss, you began slowly backing away from the team.

“and the first place winner for this year's regional competition is…” silence overtook the audience. “Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College!” you paused, not exactly sure if you heard him right. the crowd broke out in applause, cheers damn near breaking the sound barrier. your team was already at the man with the trophy’s side. they watched you before they all yelled at you to come get your trophy. you skated over to them quickly, Reí held out the trophy for you to grab and as you took it, you fell to your knees. you cried as you held the trophy. the team stood over you, rubbing your back, thanking you for leading them this far. you cried harder.

leaving the large stadium with the large trophy on your hand, everyone behind you was yelling out proudly. some stragglers from the crowd congratulated you as you left. once you got to the parking lot, you saw Suguru leaning against his car. you tried your best to run over to him, placing down the trophy and crashing into him. his arms wrapped around you and lifted you into the air, your feet left the concrete and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “you did it.”

“i did.” you sobbed, so proud of yourself.

“i’m so proud of you. i knew you were gonna win.” you cried into his neck. “you did so good pretty girl, you were the best.”

“you’re just saying that cause you’re fucking me.”

“no.” he placed you down, making you look at him. “that’s not why.”

“then what, Sugu?” he stared at you for a second before he turned around and opened his car door, grabbing something and hiding it strategically so you couldn’t see it. once he turned back to face you his ears were bright red and he huffed out a breath.

“Y/N L/N, will you do me the amazing honor and accept me as your boyfriend?” from behind his back, he pulled a beautiful bouquet of purple and white flowers. your jaw dropped and you looked between him and the flowers. “you gonna answer?”

“yes!” you wrapped your arms around him again. holding him close to you. you pulled back and pressed a messy kiss to his lips, tongues and teeth clashing. “you’re so corny.” you whispered to him.

“what can i say? you bring it out of me.” you laughed together. eventually he led you to the passenger seat, buckling you in and pressing kisses to your face. you stared at him as he got in the car. fondness all over your features, how lucky could you have been?

----------------

two months later you found yourself in the spot where everything started. back in the now improved locker room of your school, lacing up your skates to head to the ice. Suguru was waiting for you outside, sitting down staring out to the floor. approaching him from behind you tapped his shoulder. “come on.”

“what are we doing here?”

“just come on.” you rolled your eyes. grabbing his hands in your own, you began to walk backwards to the ice, watching him watch you. now on the rink you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you.

“what are we doing here?”

“why are you complaining?”

“cause,” he whined. “i wanna go back to my room and watch movies with my favorite person.”

“and who’s your favorite person?”

“Satoru.” he deadpanned, you hit his shoulder.

“be serious.” he let out a hearty laugh.

“ok but what are we doing here? it’s late.”

“you remember that one night you told me if i let you teach me the hockey stop, i could teach you one of my own moves?” he groaned and let his head fall back.

“i thought you forgot about that.”

“i did.” you shrugged. “‘till i didn’t.”

“do we have to?” he pouted.

“yes, now stop being a baby. it’ll be easy, i promise.” you led him to the middle of the rink and let go. “ok, watch me.” you began skating away, once far enough you put one leg out. eventually putting it down you turned back to your boyfriend. “easy, right?”

“sure.”

“now you do it.” he began skating forward but as soon as he put his leg up, he stumbled forward, quickly catching himself. you crouched over laughing.

“it’s not funny, Y/N/N.”

“yes it is.” you laughed even harder, he huffed. “ok, ok, i’m sorry, try again.” he kept trying, sometimes stumbling. he complained a lot along the way, asking if you two could just leave. you wouldn’t let him give up, you kept pushing until he finally got it.

“was there a point to this?”

“of course.” you skated from your spot to him, grabbing him and pulling him along with you. beginning to gain speed, you pressed your back to his and placed his hands on your waist. you leaned forward, kicking your leg out as you skated, Suguru watched and knew what you wanted him to do. he did just the same as you, your bodies lined up together and you skated around half the rink like that. putting your leg down to stop you looked at him. “see, i had a point.”

“yeah but my point is better.”

“you didn’t even make a point.”

“yeah i did.”

“then what’s your point?”

“this.” he grabbed your jaw between his hand and planted his lips on yours. he parted your lips with his own and slipped his tongue into your mouth, you moaned around him. cupping the back of your head, he slowly inched you down until you were both lying on the floor. he kissed from your mouth to your neck, unbuttoning your shirt slowly, he trailed his fingertips along your body. his hands ran along the hem of your skirt before he slipped it under the garment. his finger circled your clit and slid down to your entrance. he circled it and felt you flutter before he slid one into you, you moaned when he entered another. you were so wet, soaking his entire hand as he fucked it in you, he stopped just as you felt your orgasm approaching.

“hey!” you whined at him.

“i know, i know. i’ll make it up to you.” he began suckling small marks into the skin and trailing them down your body. leaving kisses down your body as you heaved at the affection. he licked into your belly button before looking at you. “you’re so pretty.”

“you tell me all the time.”

“just making sure you know.” he leaned down to unlace both your and his skates and threw them somewhere across the rink. his hand slithered up your thigh and he gripped the stockings you were wearing under your skirt. “these are so dumb.” before you could reply, you heard the loud rip of the fabric.

“Suguru!” you yelled at him, “i have to wear these out of here!”

“it’ll be fine.”

“they’re my favorite pair.” you pouted.

“i’ll get you some more, ok?”

“fine.” he moves down your body once more, now coming face to face with the wet spot on your panties. he ran his finger over and pushed into your hole slightly, collecting more wetness on the fabric. he pulled your panties to the side. he breathed against your skin, your pussy fluttering as you felt it. he licked your clit, his piercing running over it quickly. he dove straight into it. wasting no time he began eating at you like a man starved. your back arched off the ice, fingers tangling in his hair, you pulled on it roughly and he moaned into you. you guided his head up and down in you, his tongue dragging over your clit, his piercing rubbing over it. he looked up to you and the sight above him was beautiful, your mouth was dropped open and your chest was arched off the floor. one of his hands began to run circles over your hole, he slipped two fingers in you. you moaned as his fingers rubbed your walls, his tongue piercing rolled over your engorged clit and your voice broke as you cried out his name.

his fingers began to fuck into you faster and he went from licking your clit to sucking on it. an orgasm was building up quickly and you couldn’t fight it off. “Sugu, i’m gonna cum.” ever since the two of you got together, Suguru spent his time learning your body, learning what made you tick and twitch. your hips began bucking up in his face, his other hand came up to hold you down. his palm pushed you back against the floor, making sure you couldn’t squirm away from him. he sucked on your clit harder, your stomach clenched and your toes curled. “Sugu!” your things trembled and you cried as you came, you shook as Suguru kept sucking, his fingers stilled inside of you pressing into your walls instead.

“give me another.” he murmured softly, he began sucking on your clit again. you panted, gripping his head harder, pressing him more into you. you clenched around his fingers harder and before you could warn him, you were squirting all over his face. he gulped it down happily, drinking from you like he was a parched man and you a fountain. he sat up and smiled at you, your juices dripping from his chin. you sighed as he let up, body relaxing into the floor. “i love it when you do that.”

“i don’t.”

“why.” he whined like a petulant child.

“it takes a lot out of me. take your pants off.” he obliged, sliding them to the middle of his thighs.

“you’re bossy,” he joked.

“you like it.” he nodded his head with a smirk on his face, he does like it, you’re the only person who can put him in his place. he lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist, his body engulfed yours, wrapping his arms around and you cradling your head as his body bent over yours. he lined his tip up with your entrance. he groaned as he pushed into you, your walls fluttered around him and you took him inch by inch. you turned your head to him searching for his lips. “Sugu.” you whispered, he turned to face you and you pressed your lips to his. he began thrusting into you, your lips moved against each other, you sucked on his tongue and his eyes rolled back. his moan vibrated through your head, you took the ball of his piercing into your mouth, rolling your tongue over it and biting the metal playfully.

“you’re so big.” you rested your head on the ice, your ass was pressed against it. the tights were ripped around your thighs, your panties pulled to the side rubbing against Sugurus cock as he fucked you.

“you’re so tight,” he moaned. “fuck, i love you.” your eyes widened. that was the first time he ever said it to you. his thrusts slowed down and grew deeper, he went from slutting you out to fucking you passionately. “i love you.” he pressed his lips to yours, his hand that was cradling your head tangled into your hair, pulling at it to make you look at him. his tongue ran over your lips, opening them and sliding it into your mouth. you took a minute to kiss him back, your eyes stayed open as he kissed you. his pelvis rubbed directly on your clit and your eyes crossed. he cock continuously rubbed your g-spot, his tip nudged your cervix. you panted and moaned into his mouth, he breathed you in, soaking up every sound that escaped your lips.

“i’m gonna cum.” you whimpered.

“me too.” the kiss between you two grew sloppy, less of a kiss and more of a combination of tongues and slobber. everything was so wet, your face with his spit, your body with sweat, in between your legs with his precum and your arousal. “i’m gonna cum in this tight pussy, gonna fill you up. wanna watch you grow, watch your stomach get bigger causa me.” you moaned at his words, who knew Suguru Geto had a breeding kink? “tell me.” he bit your lip. “tell me you want it. you want my kids.”

“fuck, i want it.” you sobbed, back arching to his chest.

“you want it? wanna be a mommy? gonna make me a daddy?”

“yes! gonna make you a daddy, want you to make me a mommy.” you slurred, words stringing together.

“you’re gonna be such a pretty mommy, princess, gonna have the cutest kids.” he lifted his face to look into your eyes. he gripped your chin, making you look at him. “look at me when you cum, keep your eyes open.” you tried but your eyes rolled back into your head. he landed quick gentle slaps to your face “open ‘em.” your mouth dropped open, you tried to tell him you were close but all that came out were garbled words. “i know, pretty girl, you’re so close.” he mocked. “gonna cum all over me? make a mess? let it go.” you cried out as you came, voice cracking from the volume. “there it is, let it out for me.” your legs shook with your orgasm, your back arched and fell with tremors. “i’m gonna cum.” his thrust faltered, one, two, three more before he filled you up. there was so much of it that you swore you could see your stomach expanding with each rope.

“Sugu, there’s so much.”

“fuck, i know.” it seeped out around him, dripping from you down his balls. he pulled out of you, wincing as the coldness of the rink met his cock. he laid next to you, sprawling out on the ice. “i meant it.” you looked at him. “i know what you’re thinking, i meant it. i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t.” you sighed with relief.

“i love you too.” he smiled so wide you thought it would stick to his face. “did you mean the other thing?”

“what? making you a mom?” you nodded. “fuck yeah.” he laughed. “you’d look hot as a mom.”

“Suguru!”

“what?! you would. and i’d get to watch it. getting hard jus’ thinkin’ bout it.”

“you’re gross.” your face turned up jokingly.

“maybe but it’s more than that. i want that with you, i want kids with you, wanna have everything with you.”

“i want it too.”

“really?”

“yeah but it might be too early right now.” you turned on your side, laying your head on his chest. “how about… meeting my grandfather next saturday?”

“ok. is he gonna kill me?”

“probably.”

“fuck.”

----------------

THIS TOOK FOREVER!! i was supposed to have this out weeks ago but it's out now! i hope you enjoyed. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

@shadowthief78 @alittlepuppyslut @leave-rae-alone @sugurusprettygirl @kissyblake-uwu @blubearxy @moonlithavensworld @deanzelly @xxharumixx @httpghostface @enhypen-scholarship @breeziebetty @3xv5s @iwannachokeontojifushiguroscock @ilovemydogsimon @jellyamour @secretanimesimp @literallynothingandnobody @morganadorodo @shiroganekagami @mmeerraa @lunairiki @saccharine-nectarine @deepinballs @boba-is-a-soup @localgaytrainwreck @bootlegroach @r0ses4ndlilies @shoyos-sugarbaby @sativaxc @spam-love @sh0rtccakee @onlypickless @nishii28 @missgab @anastasijaiwaizumi @strawberry-hyacinth @ynmnln @flrdete @megmercury @bforbiblio @hwanin @reinersweiner @childof-iluvatar @toijisdilfdaddy @doniveatry @cursedwings2005 @liaurokodaki @vixensbrainrotts @pillowow @beelzmunchkin @idkkk343 @xoxohyuniin09 @fartzalot @ghostlillah @diiaicar @vampl-sh @bffrrufr @jay-mach @firstwarmdayofbluespring @svtkiss

#getou suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto suguru x reader smut #geto suguro x reader #geto suguru smut #suguro geto #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto x y/n #jjk geto

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simjaexy · 10 months ago

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Synopsis: In a bustling college campus, Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon—are the ultimate heartthrobs, each excelling in their respective sports and capturing the hearts of many. One day, they come up with a playful challenge to see who can win the heart of the same person, you. A girl that was too kind for her own good, too innocent for her own good. As they each use their unique charms and talents to impress, they soon realize that maybe not everything could be a challenge. They can’t help that they want you.

Pairing: Enha Hyung Line x Fem! Reader (Completed)

Synopsis: Jake is the charming and athletic soccer player, known for his incredible talent and sportsmanship. He has a large fans following and the guy who can effortlessly balance his social life with his responsibilities. Jake's infectious smile and positive attitude makes him a favorite among students, so why can’t you notice him?

Wanna be Jake’s?

Synposis: Sunghoon is the enigmatic and talented ice hockey player, captivating everyone with his skill on the ice and his mysterious aura off it. He's the guy who doesn't say much but leaves a lasting impression. Sunghoon's dedication to his sport and his quiet confidence make him a true heartthrob, unfortunately he just can’t get your attention.

Wanna be Sunghoon’s?

Synopsis: Jay is the stylish and confident basketball player, always turning heads with his impressive skills and cool demeanor. He's the guy everyone wants to hang out with, known for throwing the best parties and having a great sense of humor. Despite his laid-back vibe, Jay would be dedicated to his sport and academics, coincidentally you are too.

Wanna be Jay’s?

Synopsis: Heeseungs the star quarterback, leading the football team to victory every season. With his natural charisma and leadership skills, Heeseung is adored by fans and respected by teammates. Off the field, he's be known for his genuine kindness and approachable flirty nature, but that comes crashing down when you don’t acknowledge him.

Wanna be Heeseung’s?

notes: this is my first time doing a hyung line fic! all of them have sexual interactions so MINORS DNI!! it’s best to read from top to bottom so it makes more sense.

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just-nc-tea · 4 months ago

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ICED AMERIANO SEASON

⭑.ᐟ Strangers to lovers - Park Jongseong A simple iced americano is about to ruin Jay’s entire season. Falling for the cute barista at his favorite café means free coffee, but it also comes with unexpected complications. Between her overprotective best friend stirring up drama and the internet’s relentless spotlight on his personal life, Jay quickly learns that some risks are worth taking—even if it means skating into uncharted territory. He regrets nothing.

ᝰ genre. College sports , angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, suggestive.ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, a LOT of partying (somehow they always meet at parties, dunno what happened there), some intense making out and loosing tshirts, toxic friendships, toxic fanbases, lots of drinking, profanity, suggestive language .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 39.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ (I am so sorry)

series masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

⟡ ┆ Instagram stories ⁀➴༯ Y/Ns version, Jays version

Jay pushed the glass door of the small campus cafe open. The familiar jingle of the bell above the door almost drowning in the chatter of the many students crammed into the small cafe. As he moved through the bustling cafe, the worn wooden floors creaked beneath his boots.

He spotted you behind the counter before you noticed him. You were bustling around, balancing a tray of mugs with one hand while sliding a plate of pastries across the counter with the other. Your hair was pinned back, loose strands framing your face, and you were wearing the café’s signature deep red apron over a flowy dress.

“Hey, Jay,” you called out, catching sight of him. His heart had no business to react the way it did. A greeting and a smile was not enough to get a 1,8 meter, fit hockey player's heart rate to spike. Your grin widened as you set the tray down and made your way to the counter. “Back so soon? Let me guess, iced Americano, two shots of espresso?”

Jay leaned against the counter, smiling back at you. “You know me too well.”

“It’s almost like you’re here every other day or something,” you teased, pulling a cup from the stack. Jay chuckled, watching as you moved behind the counter. Your hands worked with practiced ease, and the warm glow from the afternoon sun streaming through the windows seemed to make you glow. He caught himself staring and quickly glanced down at the counter, pretending to examine the worn wood beneath his fingers. Great. Counters. Counters are interesting. Is this oak? Walnut?

“So… how is your back? You guys got roughed up pretty bad last night.”, you asked while working on his coffee.

His head shot up in surprise. “You watched the game?”

“Not live,” you admitted, turning back around to set the cups on the counter. “But it was all over my feed. You holding up okay?”

Jay blinked, a little stunned that you’d not only heard about the game but had actually paid attention to it. His lips tugged into a small, boyish grin as warmth spread in his chest. “Barely. The other team decided my ribs were a fair target.”

You winced sympathetically. “Yikes. And you still made it all the way here?”

“What can I say? The coffee’s worth it.” His tone was light as he shrugged and winced after.

“Well, if the coffee doesn’t help, you can always take a nap on the green sofa,” you teased, nodding toward the corner. “It’s my preferred one.”

“Tempting,” Jay said, straightening up. “But I think I’ll save my naps for after I pretended to be a academic weapon in the library.“

“What are you studying today?”, you slid his drink across the counter, leaning in slightly as you rested your elbows on the worn wood. Maybe he should get his heart checked out.

“International finance.”, he groaned and fished for his wallet in his pocket.

“Oh. Doesn’t sound like fun.”, you grabbed a crookie from the display case and placed it in a small bag, sliding it toward him, after he finished paying. “Consider it my contribution to your recovery.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly, his tone warmer now as he reached for the bag.

“Anytime, Jay,” you said softly, your smile lingering as he picked up his coffee and crookie.

You hadn’t intended to stay long at the swim team’s party. Really, you hadn’t. But somewhere between the shots Lia handed you and Felix’s insistence that you “let loose for once,” the night had gotten away from you.

You were halfway through your third Sex on the Beach of the evening, the warm buzz of alcohol already humming heavily in your veins, as you pushed your way through the crowd. Han, Jeongin, and Ryujin trailing behind you as you tried to escape the crush of bodies and rejoin the rest of your friends playing beer pong in the garden.

You were laughing at something Jeongin said, only half-listening, when someone bumped into you. Your drink swayed, spilling a few drops over the rim, and you barely caught yourself from spilling it completely.

“Hey, watch it!” you said, turning around, ready to throw a playful glare at whoever had just so rudely bumped into you.

“Oh shit. I am sorry.” The culprit turned around, grinning sheepishly. Before you could respond, you heard Jeongin’s voice from behind you.

“Heeseung? Is that you?”

You turned to see him grinning Heeseung, his face lighting up.

"Jeongin!" Heeseung said. "Man, long time no see!” Heeseung clapped Jeongin on the shoulder, pulling him into a quick manly half-hug.

“We were about to step outside for a second. Care to join?”

“Sure. My friends are outside as well. Or well, they were the last time I saw them?”, Heeseung nodded and followed your little group as you fought your way to the garden of the frat house, escaping Kesha and her choir of drunk students.

The cold night air hit your cheeks as you stepped outside, the noise of the party muffled slightly by the walls of the house. The garden was lit by fairy lights and a few fake torches that flickered against the dark of the night. You were following close behind Jeongin, holding his shoulder and your drink in an iron grip, determined not to trip or spill any of your precious Sex on the Beach. Han was walking right beside you, his hand laying on the small of your back.

You arrived at the table near the end of the garden fence that separated the house from the small woods that surrounded the whole campus. Chan and Minho were playing an intense beer pong match against Jake and Jay.

“I’m freezing,” you whined, pulling your arms tighter around yourself and leaning a little more into Han. Whoever thought it was a good idea to place the beer pong table outside should definitely never get to voice their thoughts out loud ever again. Not only was it cold and icy out here but the woods were scary as fuck.

He chuckled, adjusting his position so you were tucked closer against his side and wrapped his padded jacket over the two of you.

“Should’ve brought a jacket,” he teased, his breath warm against the top of your head.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t defend yourself. Your dress wasn’t helping your case either. You knew you would be spending most of your time outside watching your friends play beer pong so you did bring a jacket, but it was stored safely somewhere inside. You thought you could rely on the copious amounts of alcohol to keep you warm. Apparently you were just as bad in thinking as the dude that put the tables here.

“Oh, is the little baby cold?” Minho cooed, his tone exaggerated.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Go back to losing beer pong.”

He gasped dramatically. “Excuse you, Y/N. I’ll have you know—”

His protest was cut off by loud cheers from the other team. The two players were both jumping around the table, celebrating a successful shot, while their friends were all high-fiving in excitement.

Them celebrating gave you an opportunity to, hopefully not too obviously, check out one particular player. Jay was standing just behind the table, laughing along with his friend. He was wearing a black button-up shirt and a padded leather jacket. The shirt was unbuttoned at the top. His hair had that messy, tousled look that somehow worked way better than if he’d tried to make it perfect. He looked hot. And totally out of your league.

You caught his eyes for a split second, and your heart skipped a beat. Great. Now he knows you were staring. This is fine. Totally fine. Maybe if you don’t blink for the next ten seconds, you’ll look like you’re in deep drunk thought instead of checking him out like a creep. But his lips curved into a smile, and he waved at you. Your arm was still wrapped around Han’s side, but you moved it enough to greet Jay properly.

Han’s body stiffened slightly, and his gaze followed the direction of your wave, his brows furrowing when he noticed where your attention was. He cleared his throat, then asked, his voice low, “Who are you waving at?”.

You glanced up at him, a little confused by the sharpness in his tone. “Jay,” you answered nonchalantly. Han knew all about your little crush on Jay, he had to listen to your rambling every time you saw him in the cafe. Which was quite often.

You felt Han’s hand shift slightly on your back. He reached up and he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze flicked back to Jay, still laughing with his friends.“Just- be careful, Y/N. Hockey players”, he paused for a second, contemplating his words, “they’re not exactly known for being the settle-down type.”

You rolled your eyes: “Han you know just as well as me that I would never make a move. He is so out of my league, I try to not get disappointed by men more than I already am.”, you said with a dismissive shrug.

Han’s fingers tightened for a second on your shoulder. “Just... be careful. I’m just looking out for you, okay?”

You smiled up at him. “I know, I know. I appreciate it. You are worse than Yudai sometimes,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

Han’s expression softened slightly at your words. He looked back at Jay, then back to you. Just as he opened his mouth to say something else, your phone buzzed in your purse.

You fumbled for it, managing to pull it out and glance at the screen. “It’s Chaeryoung,” you muttered, swiping your thumb across the screen to answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Chaeryoung’s voice came through, strained and frantic. “You need to come inside. Lia is throwing up in the bathroom. She locked the door and doesn’t want to let any of us inside!”

You blinked, suddenly alert and sober. Or well as sober as you could be. “Shit, in which bathroom are you?”

“The upstairs one!”

You turned to Han, your face apologetic. “I’ve gotta go help Chae. Lia is throwing up and locked the door,” you said.

Han looked at you with concern, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you need help?”

Before you could answer, Seungmin, Lia’s boyfriend, jumped in, his voice easy and reassuring. “I’ll go with her,” he said quickly, offering you a small smile. “We’ll get her sorted out.”

You gave Seungmin a quick nod. “Thanks, Seungmin. I appreciate it.”

You almost stumbled but caught yourself, your fingers gripping the edge of Han’s sleeve to steady yourself when you broke away from him and the warmth of his jacket. His fingers instantly curled around your wrist. His grip and his brow furrowed even deeper as he watched you, his eyes flicking between you and the door.

His voice was quieter now, almost tender, and his fingers brushed against the small of your back as if he was ready to catch you at any moment. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? You've had a lot to drink…”

“I’m a big girl, Han.” You nodded, though it felt like the nod itself might make you lose your balance. “And Seungmin is helping. He’s basically sober.”

Han’s expression shifted from concern to reluctant acceptance. He didn’t move to stop you, but his eyes lingered on you, his worry still evident. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Just... be careful, okay?”

You gave him a reassuring smile and glanced at Seungmin, who gave you an encouraging nod.

You were squeezing your way through the kitchen after you successfully got Chaeryoung to open up the door. Your friends decided to end the night like that and went home, leaving you alone to get yourself another drink before returning to the beer pong tables. The counters were lined with drinks, people laughing loudly, leaning against walls and talking over one another.

Just as you were about to sidestep a group of people near the fridge, someone bumped into you from behind. The sudden force sent you stumbling forward, your arms flailing slightly as you reached out instinctively to steady yourself.

"Whoa!" a voice called out just as strong hands gripped your arms, keeping you from falling. You froze for a moment, heat rising to your cheeks. “Easy there.”, the voice added, smooth and amused. Jay. Oh god.

“Oh my god i am so sorry.”, you blurted, trying to cover up the rush of heat in your chest. You laughed awkwardly, hoping it didn’t come out too flustered.

Jay’s smile spread, eyes sparkling with amusement as his grip remained light but firm. “No problem at all,” he said. “Funny running into you here. I thought I’d have to wait until Thursday to see you again.”

You let out a small laugh, steadying yourself on the edge of the counter. “Actually you could have seen me on Monday as well. Jaemin and I switched our shifts next week.”

Jay laughed and then turned his attention back to the drink he was mixing before you almost face planted into him. “What a bummer. If I’d known that, I could’ve enjoyed one of your ice americanos instead of the cafeteria ones.”

“Maybe next time,” you teased, leaning against the counter as you watched him work. You were here to get yourself another drink, but the thought of fighting your way through the crowd of people to find a new bottle of vodka felt more exhausting than it was worth.

He finished mixing his drink and set it down in front of you. "I was gonna make something for myself, but I figured you'd appreciate something a little better than the usual party fare, dear barista." he said, smiling.

You raised an eyebrow, taking the glass from him.

“Are you offering me a drink just so I’ll stick around?” you asked, taking a sip of whatever he just mixed. The drink was good, strong but it tasted well.

Jay’s smirk deepened. "Well, you could put it like that. But I figured you'd appreciate a drink that's a little less basic," he said, leaning against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours.

You leaned back slightly, studying him for a moment. Close up he looked even hotter. You could see the Prada chain that was dangling around his neck, reflecting the colorful lights of the led lamps in the kitchen. His black hair fell slightly over his forehead, and you had to fight the urge to reach out and brush it back.

“I sure like less basic.” you said, your voice a little softer than before.

Jay turned back to the counter, grabbing another plastic cup. “So, how long have you and - what’s his name? Han? been together?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Han? Oh, no, no, no. He’s not my boyfriend,” you said, shaking your head, a chuckle escaping your lips. “He’s like… a brother to me. We’ve known each other since high school. I moved to Korea with my family, and we just clicked from there. Just really close friends.”

Jay looked at you again and raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Really?” He tilted his head, studying. “I could’ve sworn you two were a thing. The way you were standing together looked very couple like earlier.”

You laughed slightly. "Yeah, we’re close, but definitely not like that. I was too lazy to get my jacket and I was freezing. I basically just used him as a portable human heater,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips.

Jay’s grin widened and he set down the bottle he just reached for. “So,” he said, his voice smooth and a little slower than usual, “if you’re not with him, that leaves me wondering, if someone wanted to get to know you better, what should be his first move?”

You tilted your head, amused by the sudden turn in the conversation.

“Well, that’s a loaded question,” you said, teasing him. “I don’t know, I guess you’d have to find out.”

Holy shit. This can’t be true. What the hell. Is he flirting?

Jay’s smile deepened, and he took a small step forward, leaning in just a little closer. His voice dropped, low and confident. “I think I could handle that.”

You laughed softly, the heat in your chest spreading as you glanced away for a moment, suddenly very aware of how close Jay was. You could smell his perfume. It smelled nice. He smelled nice. You swore your brain was running on autopilot.

“We’ll see about that,” you said, as you locked eyes with him.

Jay chuckled and tilted his head to the side and licked his lips. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Don’t try to seduce me just because you want free pastries. You got that because I felt bad for you.”, you teased, taking another sip of your drink not breaking eye contact.

Jay’s smirk widened, he leaned even closer, resting one arm casually on the counter, cornering you from one side. “You caught me,” he said playfully. “Free crookie is all I’m after. You’ve exposed my master plan.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Damn. You didn’t even try to deny it. At least you’re honest.”

“Always,” he replied, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Especially if I am talking to a girl as pretty as you.”

“Smooth,” you said, smirking, trying to ignore how your heart did a little flip. Why was he flirting with you? What was happening? Mayday mayday! “Is that how you charm all the girls?”

Jay chuckled, running a hand through his jet black hair. It looked so soft. “Nope. Usually, I just smile and hope for the best.” He made a small pause.

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you think charms me? Your smile? I don’t even have to do anything to do that.” Except handing him his daily dose of caffeine.

“Well definitely more than just a charming smile. Maybe a good drink and a nice conversation?” Jay grinned, leaning back just slightly, but his eyes never left yours.

You laughed again, shaking your head but not bothering to hide your smile this time. “Until now that seems to have worked pretty well, hasn’t it?”

He placed a hand over his chest in mock relief. “Thank god. I was worried I’d have to pull out my backup plan.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics. “Oh yeah? And what’s the backup plan?”

Jay leaned in again, his voice dropping low. “Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

Your eyes locked, and for a split second, but before either of you could say anything more Han’s voice cut through the tension. “Y/N.”

You turned around quickly, blinking a little at the sight of him standing behind you. A frown was pulling at his lips as his eyes flicked between you and Jay.

"Han, hey," you said, trying to sound casual and collected, not breathless and freaked out.

Jay smiled at Han but didn’t say anything. He took a step back. Han opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Minho appeared at his side.

"Y/N!" he called out, his tone cheerful. "What are you still doing here? I thought you wanted to be gone for just a few seconds. Come on, we’re going back outside, I wanna rematch Jake."

"I was just about to head out.", you glanced at Jay, his eyes still following you, and then turned to face Han and Minho, who were both waiting expectantly. You offered Jay a smile. “Guess I’ll see you around, Jay,” you said, your voice light, as you drowned your drink and set the cup down on the counter next to you. Jay raised an eyebrow, his smile never fading. “Looking forward to it,” he replied.

The small fried chicken shop near the ice rink was filled to the brim with people. Every seat was taken by a hockey player or one of their friends. The DA ice hockey team had just won the second game of the year after their winter break and everyone was celebrating.

Jay sat at the end of the table, idly pushing his rice around with his chopsticks, half-tuned into the conversation between Heeseung and Yeonjun. He was scrolling through his instagram feed and got stuck under one of your posts. It was a small clip from your newest video. “My husband and I cook dessert for the kids (you).”

He scrolled down to the comments, not wanting to see Han making heart eyes at you. He saw that happen in real life often enough, no need to see it here as well.

‘Y/N and Han are literally couple goals. Like, just admit you’re dating already.’

‘The way Han looks at her… I’m crying. Why are they so cute?’

‘If they ever break up my heart will be broken’

Jay clenched his jaw. The commenters clearly loved the idea of you and Han as a pair, and from the outside, he could see why. He leaned back against his seat, running a hand over his face. He needed to get a grip.

“-ay? Jay?”, Heeseung’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Are you still with us dude?”

Jay blinked, not even pretending to follow. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he mumbled, earning a snort from Yeonjun.

Heeseung narrowed his eyes playfully. “What’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing.”, Jay closed his phone and put it onto the table, screen facing the wood.

“You sure it’s nothing? You just looked like you wanted to punch someone.”, Yeonjun said, biting into a chicken. Jay sighed but figured there was no harm in being honest. Heeseung would probably get it out of him eventually. “Y/N uploaded a video. With Han.”

“Aww. Poor Jay is sulking because his crush is hanging out with Han?”, Heeseung mocked, feigning pity. Yeonjun snorted, nearly choking on his food.

“I’m not sulking,” Jay shot back, though the defensiveness in his tone only made Heeseung and Yeonjun exchange knowing smirks.

“Okay, fine,” Yeonjun said, holding up his hands. “You’re not sulking. But, come on, be real for a second. Do you actually think Han has a chance with her?”

Jay hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “Everyone seems to think they’re perfect together.”

Heeseung barked out a laugh. “Everyone except the two people actually involved. Dude, Han’s so deep in the friend zone it’s practically a different zip code.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun added, shaking his head. “The guy looks like he’s one declaration of love away from writing poetry in the rain. It’s tragic, really.”

Jay’s brow furrowed. “She told me she’s not interested in him like that. She said they’re just friends. Like siblings.”

“And you believe her?” Heeseung asked, arching a brow.

Jay nodded firmly. “Yeah, I do. She was clear about it. She’s never given me a reason to think otherwise.” Well it wasn’t as if the two of you talked about that topic particularly often. But he was certain that you have never mentioned a boyfriend.

“Then what’s stopping you?” Yeonjun asked, leaning forward. “You’re not in the friend zone. Hell, the way you were cozying up in the kitchen last week made it look like you are closer to her than Han ever was.”

Jay shrugged, his gaze dropping to the table. “It’s not that simple.”

Heeseung snorted. “It’s exactly that simple. Han’s not even in the competition, dude. You’re just psyching yourself out.”

Yeonjun grinned. “Let’s be honest, Jay. You’d be doing Han a favor. At least he’d finally get the hint and move on.”

Jay couldn’t help but chuckle at that, even as he shook his head. “You guys are impossible.”

“Maybe,” Heeseung said, raising his glass. “But we’re also right. Sooner or later, you’re gonna have to make a move. Before someone else does.”

Jay glanced at his phone again. Heeseung and Yeonjun might have been teasing, but deep down, Jay knew they weren’t entirely wrong.

“Yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “I know.”

“I hate the tomato sauce they serve in the food hall.”, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose in disgust after taking a bite of the cafeterias version of spaghetti bolognese.

“Why would you get it then?”, Changbin asked before stuffing his mouth with some high protein chicken dish he brought from home. It smelled better than it looked, but it still looked unappealing. Close to whatever you were eating. Which was…a chickpea soup? You were not entirely sure, but it did taste decent. Han looked at his spaghetti with almost as much disgust as Yeonjun did.

“Do I look like I wanna eat chickpea soup? It looks like vomit and I don't want to eat warm chickpea flavoured vomit.”, Yeonjun deadpanned and you snorted. He was right about that, but salty tomato sauce and over cooked noodles were not really a better option.

“Babe. I am trying to enjoy my food.”, Chaeryoung hit his bicep and he yelped in mock pain.

“Hey.”, came a greeting from somewhere behind you.

You turned around to see Jay, Sunghoon and Jake standing behind you. Jay was smiling down at you. Was he always this tall? It was like you were sitting in the shadow of a very well-dressed tree. Except this tree smelled like fresh laundry and confidence. Stupid tree.

“Could we join you? The other tables are full.”, he tilted his head into the direction of the food hall. Almost every seat was taken.

Before you could even think of a proper answer Yeonjun, already gave them the okay and Jay slid into the seat next to you. He set down his tray and moved to take off his jacket. His knee touched yours and you flinched for a second but didn’t move it.

“So, what did CC want from you?” Yeonjun asked between bites of his spaghetti, looking up at Jay with a raised brow. Jay shrugged, picking at his food as he leaned back in his chair. “Nothing important. He told Heeseung and me to keep an eye on you since Providence is a hard team to win against. And we, as captain and co-captain, are in charge of keeping you in check.” he said shrugging.

“Oh, that’s right,” Changbin chimed in, “Last year you lost against them, right? Wasn’Tt it againt them that Soobin almost broke his hand and CC freaked out?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah he was pushed behind the net and Lermann tends to play dirty and checked him from behind without apparent reason.”

You nodded, trying to act normal, but all you could think about was how Jay’s knee kept bumping against yours, the subtle touch sending a warmth flooding through your body. You kept your face calm and collected. Or well you tried to. Considering Chaes pointed facial expression you weren’t doing a particularly good job at it.

"Yeah. Jesus that was shit. We lost a good player and then they started playing dirty and provoked everyone else and got power plays.", Jay said, shifting in his seat and leaning slightly closer to you without even realizing it. "But we’ve got this this time. We just need to keep focused. And ignore Jensens comments."

“I’m sure you’ll do great," you said, trying to sound encouraging, “It’s as much a mental as a physical thing. So if you go into the game with good vibes I am sure you’ll ehm powerplay them this time?”

You had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. CC was Coach Choi, that was something you have learned, but aside from that you didn’t really keep up with anything that related to the hockey team. Well the real life one, you were keeping up with your fictional hockey boys?

The real life hockey players that were sitting around you snorted.

"Man, look at that. You always say that as well, don’t you?" Jake teased, nudging Jay with his elbow. "Maybe you should get her to coach the team. She would certainly be better in bringing the mood up than CC."

You winked at him, playing along. "Well, if you ever need a motivational coach for a game, you know where to find me.”

Your friends started digging back into their food, now talking about different topics. You were sitting in the middle, listening to Han Changbin and Chae with one and the rest with the other ear.

“You know,” Jay said suddenly, bumping his knee back into yours to get your attentio , “if you’d want to, I would love to see you at a game. Maybe we just need some new fans and motivational coaches in the stands to win.”

You smiled at him, tilting your head. “Mhm I am not sure how much help I would actually be. I would just hog someones ticket who would actually want to see you play.”

“Oh don’t you worry. Pretty girls are allowed to do that.”, he leaned back down to take a bit of his spaghetti.

Did he just call you a ‘pretty girl’? Like, in a casual, offhanded way? Like it was no big deal? Cool. That’s cool.

Jay cringing slightly before taking another bite. "Maybe I'll just stick with something safer next time."

You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Yeah, probably a good idea. Mine is actually not that bad." you teased, nudging him gently with your elbow.

Jay grinned at the playful exchange, leaning in slightly to whisper, “I’d rather get sick than eat that… chickpea disaster,” he added with a sly smile, gesturing to your soup.

“So,” Yeonjun said with a sly grin, slinging an arm around your shoulders when you walked out of the cafeteria. "You and Jay, huh?"

You hummed, looking up from your phone. “What about me and Jay?”

He shrugged.”You looked real cozy in there. I didn’t know you were this close.”

You narrowed your eyes at Chaeryoung, who was walking in front of you. “What did Chae tell you?”

“Oh.”, Yeonjun said, his grin widening. “Just that you have a itsy bitsy tiny crush on my co-captain.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his teasing with a laugh. "I don’t have a crush on anyone. Jay and I are just friends."

“Uh-huh. Sure, just friends.”, Yeonjun nodded in a mock serious way.

You could feel your cheeks heat up, but you refused to admit anything outright. "Are ridiculous." Chaeryoung turned around, walking backward so she could face you. “You know, Y/N, Yeonjun’s right. You were totally giving Jay heart eyes back there.” “Chae,” you groaned, your face growing hotter. “I wasn’t giving him heart eyes.” “Oh, please,” she continued, her teasing relentless. “If he leaned in just a little closer, you probably would’ve kissed him.”

If given the chance you would rather not kiss Jay in front of the whole food hall. Maybe you would kiss him if the two of you were alone and you were a bit drunk for some drunken confidence.

Yeonjun snorted. “Imagine the chaos that would cause. Half the school would either faint or riot.”

“You’re both delusional.” You said, exasperation slipping into your tone, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Jay’s just...Jay. We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Friends,” Yeonjun repeated, drawing out the word like it was some hilarious inside joke.

Han, who had been quietly walking next to you, started speaking. His tone was sharp, almost biting. “Maybe you shouldn’t get so cozy with him. You don’t want people to think you’re throwing yourself at him. You seemed a bit desperate in there Y/N.”

What. You turned to look at Han. Well you gawked at him. Month open, eyebrows furrowed.

The air around you seemed to shift instantly. Chaeryoung’s grin faltered, and Yeonjun stiffened, his arm falling from your shoulders.

“What the hell, Han?” Chaeryoung said, her voice low but clearly annoyed.

Han shrugged, avoiding your eyes. “Just saying. It doesn’t look great. Just cause he has a rich daddy and plays hockey fairly well, Y/N doesn’t have to behave like a puck bunny.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Did your best friend of 8 years, who knows of your crush, really just insinuate that you were using Jay for money? And sex? You have been gushing about Jay for the last few months, ever since he came into the cafe to study but the two of you ended up talking all the way through your shift.

No one said anything after that, you all just kind of stared at him. After a moment, Changbin cleared his throat. “Anyway, we should probably get to class.”

Yeonjun gave Han a look, one you couldn’t quite decipher, but said nothing as he started walking again.

Jay’s shoulders ached from the back-to-back practices, and every muscle in his body protested as he stepped into the café. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries washed over him, but it barely registered. His eyes swept across the room, searching for you.

You looked… rough. Your hair was pulled back in a loose, slightly messy ponytail, and even the faint makeup you wore couldn’t fully hide the tired puffiness around your eyes. There was a flush to your cheeks, not the usual vibrant glow he was used to seeing, but a sign of exhaustion. You moved quickly, your steps a little hurried.

Jay joined the line, which felt like it stretched for miles. He wasn’t in a hurry, though. This gave him more time to watch you.

You didn’t notice him at first, too busy juggling orders and working the machines with practiced ease. His attention was glued to you, tracing the way your hands moved as you filled cups and slid them across the counter. When you finally did glance up, just for a split second, your eyes locked with his. Recognition flickered in your expression before you quickly turned back to the task at hand, your head tilting slightly as if to refocus.

The line shuffled forward slowly, giving him plenty of time to watch. You were darting back and forth, exchanging quick words with Renjun while also shooting occasional glances toward the clock. You didn’t look up fully again, but Jay swore he caught you sneaking a peek in his direction once or twice.

When he finally reached the counter, Renjun greeted him with a rather stressed. "What can I get you?"

"Americano, no room," Jay said without missing a beat, though his gaze flicked past Renjun, drawn to you again. You were at the other end of the counter, busying yourself with the espresso machine. But as if sensing his gaze, you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his for the briefest moment before you focused back on your work.

Renjun passed his order down to you, and Jay took a step to the side, pretending to look at the pastries on display.

You turned back to the coffee machine, your movements fast despite the clear tiredness in your posture. He watched as you prepared his drink, the lines of concentration hardening your usual expressions. He noticed the way your fingers trembled slightly as you snapped the lid onto the cup.

"Here you go," you said, your voice soft and polite.

Jay grabbed the cup, his fingers brushing against the cardboard sleeve. He was about to say something but the words died on his lips when he noticed something written on the cup.

Text me :)

2997-2977-127

Jay blinked, his grip on the cup tightening slightly as his brain processed what he was seeing. His heart thudded, the soreness in his muscles fading into the background.

His eyes darted back up to you. You gave him a small smile before quickly turning back to help another customer.

Jay stared at his phone. He texted you almost four hours ago and you haven’t texted back. Everytime he opened his phone and saw that there was no notification from you he felt almost disappointed. He couldn’t remember being excited for a text message as much as he was for your answer.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as if that could somehow release the tension building in his chest.

The empty cup sat on the table beside him, the cardboard sleeve still marked with your scrawled handwriting. Jay sighed and flopped back against his couch, the phone resting on his chest.

“She’s probably busy,” he muttered to himself. That made sense. People had lives. You had a job. YOu were literally working at that job just a few hours ago and he knows your shift ended only like half an hour ago. It wasn’t like he expected you to drop everything just because he’d texted. But he kinda wanted you to.

His phone buzzed.

Jay shot upright so fast it startled him. His heart stuttered as he grabbed his phone fumbling with his thumb to unlock it.

Unknown Number Hey, sorry for the delay Work got busy I didn’t mean to leave you hanging :) How’s your day going?

The corner of his mouth lifted before he even realized it. He stared at the message for a moment, trying to figure out what to say back without sounding too eager.

Jay No worries :) My day had been pretty good, actually. How’s yours?

He hit send before he could second-guess it. The bubble popped up almost immediately, signaling that you were typing, and Jay smiled. This time, he didn’t even bother hiding it. He felt like a little school girl and if Jake was to come into his room right now he would probably never get the end of this.

Y/N Honestly, I’m exhausted. I might have drunk a bit too much yesterday? I missed you at the Greenwill-dorm-party :( I thought we could have catched up there!

Jay blinked at the screen, your words pulling a groan out of him.

Jay Missed me? I feel honored I was stuck at training all day yesterday, though Coach had us running drills for hours I think he’s trying to kill me

Jay frowned at the memory, his muscles still aching from the endless sprints and repetitions. He hadn’t been out with friends last night. Nope, he’d been sprawled on the locker room floor cursing his coach under his breath and had missed out on seeing you. Again.

Y/N Ohhh you poor thing Jay I’ll make you go through just one round of drills and you will beg me to stop Y/N Oh? who said I want you to stop doing anything?

Jay stared at your text, a slow heat creeping up his neck. Oh? Who said I want you to stop doing anything? His brain ran through a dozen possible replies, none of them appropriate enough to send. He rubbed a hand over his face, fighting the grin pulling at his lips.

You were doing this on purpose. You had to be.

Jay You really don’t know what you’re asking for, do you? Y/N I am always open to experience new things? But tbh the only thing i want to experience right now are 8 healthy hours of sleep I have class at 9:30 tomorrow and i still feel like dying Jay You looked tired today Did you take painkillers? Y/N geez thanks very much yeah but they aren’t helping that much and my stomach is kinda upset so i dont want to take another one Jay have you eaten anything yet?

The response took a little longer this time, but it finally came.

Y/N …No. But I have a good reason. My cat is sleeping on me, and I can’t move.

Jay blinked, his laughter bubbling out before he could stop it. Somehow, the image of you completely immobilized by a cat was both the most unexpected and the most fitting thing he could think of.

Jay You’re blaming the cat? Y/N I’m not “blaming” her. I’m respecting the unspoken rules. I’m legally required to stay put. Jay And starving in the process?

Your answer to this message took a while.

YN send a picture Just look at my little baby. I can’t just disturb her!

He sat up straighter, his thumb hovering as he opened it. The image filled the screen—a shot of you sprawled back on what looked like your bed, a sleepy black cat curled up snugly against your chest.

He blinked, then rubbed a hand over his jaw, trying to chase away whatever his brain was spiraling into. A stupid grin still tugged at the corner of his lips.

Jay Alright, I can’t even make fun of you for that She looks too comfortable to move.

He hit send, still staring at the picture like it might offer him answers to his prayers. It didn’t.

Y/N See?? I told you. Cat law.

He snorted, shaking his head as he leaned back against the couch. He then had a stupid idea.

Jay Well, lucky for you, I’m not about to let you starve. Y/N What do you mean? Jay I mean, tell me what you want to eat & your address, and I’ll bring it over.

The typing bubble appeared. Paused. Disappeared. Then came back again, like you were hesitating.

Y/N Wait, seriously? Jay You think I’d joke about something as serious as food? Now tell me what you’re craving.

Another pause.

Y/N Surprise me?

Jay stood outside your door, balancing a paper bag of food in one hand and a drink carrier in the other.

Play it cool, he thought, letting out a small breath. This wasn’t a big thing, right. He was just bringing a friend some food, after inviting himself to dinner? A friend he definitely had a crush on. That he never really gets to spend one on one time with. And now he will be inside your apartment. With you. Before he could overthink it any further, the door creaked open.

You blinked up at him, looking slightly surprised. Your hair was slightly mussed, like you’d just rolled out of bed, and there was a soft flush to your cheeks, probably from the heat of the apartment. You were wearing the blue knit sweater that he has seen quite often now and a pair of leggings that hugged your curves in a way that made his brain short-circuit for half a second. He had to force himself to keep his eyes firmly on yours, gripping the bag a little tighter.

“Hey,” you said, a small, surprised smile pulling at your lips. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I would never,” Jay replied, holding up the bag.

You stepped back to let him in, turning to walk toward the living room, and Jay, against his better judgment, found himself glancing down again. He yanked his gaze away, blinking rapidly as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Jay cleared his throat and stared at the nearest object, which just happened to be your bookshelf. He was surprised for a second at how many books you owned. The shelf was filled with books and trinkets and a collection of vinyls.

You laughed softly, walking into the direction of your living room sofa. “I thought you were joking. This is really nice of you.”

Jay shrugged, trying to play it off, though his heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest. “I wasn’t about to let you starve,” he said, glancing around your apartment. “Where’s your little kitty?”

You tilted your head toward the couch. “She abandoned me the second you knocked. Betrayal.”

Jay grinned, shifting the bag to the coffee table and pulling out the containers. “Figures. I brought Japanese food, I hope that's okay.”

You hummed in agreement, flopping down onto the couch with a little sigh, after you set down two glasses and a bottle of water.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you murmured, pulling yourself into a cross-legged position as you watched him unpack the food.

“It was no hussle. Really.”, he handed you a container with rice in it. “I would have had to eat something anyway and I really didn’t feel like cooking. I made steak with carbonara yesterday and cleaning up afterwards was so time consuming I didn't feel like cooking again today.”

“Oh?”, your eyes flickered back to him. “I didn’t know you like cooking?”

He nodded and put some rice onto his spoon, “I love cooking. I cook for my mom and my roommates all the time. I think it’s fun and if i don't cook Jake and Heeseung would live from Ramen.”

You hummed and took a bit from the curry Jay brought. “That’s so nice. I can’t cook for life. I don’t trust myself in the kitchen.”

“Lucky for you, you now unlocked a personal chef.”, he joked.

You laughed at him and hummed in agreement, while taking a bit of curry.

Jay’s eyes flicked back to the bookshelf. There were neatly arranged rows of novels, some well-loved and worn, along with a few figurines peeking out here and there. From (obsessively) watching your videos and Tiktoks (RIP) he knew you were right now rereading the city of bones series and he saw the thick book laying on the floor next to your sofa. Colorful tabs were peeking out under the worn cover.

„You have quite a big book collection. Have you read them all?“

You hummed again looking into the direction of your bookshelf aswell. „Most of them? My to-be-read books are on a bookshelf in my bedroom. I have about 48 left for this year to finish my reading goal.“

Jay looked back at you. „Reading goal?“

“Yeah. I try to read at least a book a month and i finished 4 already.”, you put the container you were holding back onto the coffee table and stood up. “I have a whole journal dedicated to my books.”

Jay watched as you grabbed a small, overstuffed journal from the shelf. His gaze softened as you came back to the couch, settling down cross-legged a bit closer next to him. You put the journal on the coffee table and flipped it open, revealing pages filled with handwritten notes, colorful tabs, and tiny doodles. It looked like a lot of work.

Jay scooted closer to you, his focus on the journal. “This is impressive. You really keep track of everything you read?”

You nodded, flipping through a few pages. “I like to rate them, write down my thoughts, favorite quotes… stuff like that. It’s relaxing, and it helps me remember the details.”

“What’s the latest book you read?” he asked, eyes focused on how your fingers moved across the pages.

You reached for the worn copy of City of Bones next to the couch, holding it up with a sheepish smile. “I’m actually rereading this series right now. I read the whole series back when it came out in like 2012? But I had quite a few edits of the male main character on my fyp and I kinda wanted to re-read it. I still love it, Jace was one of my first big fictional crushes.”

Jay laughed slightly and his gaze drifted back at your journal. The page that was flipped open had a print out of the cover of a book glued into it. He blinked, leaning in to take a closer look. A man in hockey gear stood front and center on the cover, and beneath it, in your neat handwriting, he spotted something that made him pause. ‘Heeseung and Jay remind me of Logan and Garreth. At least a bit.’

He tilted his head slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face as he reached for the notebook. “Wait a second,” he said, “Are you reading… hockey romances?”

You froze, mid movement, your hand lingering in the air still holding your edition of city of bones. A flush crept up your cheeks as you followed his gaze. “Oh. Um, yeah. Kind of.”

Jay’s grin widened, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “What do you mean, kind of? That’s a hockey stick right there on the cover.”

You groaned, leaning back against the couch as Gracie emerged from her cat bed and jumped onto the sofa, nestling against your thigh. “Okay, maybe a few. But it’s not what you think. These are actually really good! They’re funny and sweet, and the characters are…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “...well-written, okay? Don’t judge me.” You turned your face away in slight embarrassment.

Jay raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous. “Oh, sure. Well-written. I’m sure that’s why you’re all flushed.” He leaned back, stretching one arm along the back of the couch, the other still holding the journal, scanning the text. “Let me guess. It’s the character development that really got you during that, uh... locker room scene?”

Your eyes widened, and a soft squeak escaped your lips. “Stop reading that!”

He shifted, angling himself away from you to continue reading. “So, what exactly happens in this locker room? Should I be taking notes?”

“Oh my God,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “It’s not- Jay, stop! It’s not what you think!”

Jay chuckled, his laugh low and warm. You were cute when you got flustered, all pink cheeks and wide eyes. He couldn't get enough of it.

“No need to explain yourself,” he said, enjoying himself. “I get it. Hockey players are hot. I mean, look at me.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, shooting him a glare from between your fingers.

But your reaction only fueled him on. “I’m just saying,” he continued, leaning closer. “If you’re into tall guys with great stick-handling skills, you could’ve just said so.”

You groaned again, louder this time, and even Gracie meowed as if to add to your mortification. “Jay!”

“What?” He laughed, thoroughly entertained. “I’m just trying to understand your literary taste. It’s research.” HIs eyes flickered back to the journal.

“Maybe,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “Who knows? Might even learn a thing or two from these ‘well-written’ books of yours.”

Just the thought of you reading hockey romances made his mind wander, his thoughts going in places it shouldn't. His pulse quickened, but he pushed the thought down with a smirk. He knew too well what that locker scene was about. Jeonghee, the teams social media manager made them read that exact scene.

“I don’t think there really is a lot for you to learn from these books. You do know hockey and you-”, you made a short pause, “know your ways around the ladies, as far as i know”. Shaking your head, you reached out to pluck your journal out of his hands. You pressed it against your chest and pouted at him. When your eyes met, his brain completely abandoned its job. Thoughts? Gone. Words? Irrelevant. You looked adorable.

“Mhm you are sure the locker scene couldn’t teach me anything? Maybe I should read that book as well.”, he shrugged and smirked at you, grabbing his container of curry again.

You gasped and hit him with your journal. “Jay. What the hell. You are impossible.”

He laughed and raised his hand to defend himself from your attack. "Do you even know the rules of hockey?"

Your brow furrowed, eyes narrowing at him as you sat up, your attention fully on him now. "I know enough," you said. "You hit the puck, score goals, and try not to get punched?"

Jay couldn’t help but laugh at your confidence. It reminded him of your comment about them ‘playing in powerplay’ a few days ago. You were trying to be supportive, even if you were completely clueless. Jake and Yeonjun didn’t let him breath afterwards.

“That’s...not totally wrong?" he said with a chuckle, the corner of his lips twitching up. He leaned in a little closer, his voice shifting into a more playful tone. “But there’s a little more to it than that.”

“Oh, yeah?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

He shifted closer, trying his best to keep it together.

"Like icing. Or offsides. Or powerplays." He tilted his head, his eyes flicking to yours, and his voice dropped again, softer now. "If you’re going to read hockey romances, you should at least know what’s happening on the ice."

"Jay!" you said, but it wasn’t annoying. It was playful, lighthearted, and - damn, he loved hearing it.

Jay’s grin widened, and he leaned in a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “If you want a lesson, I’m more than happy to teach.” He noticed the way your breath hitched just slightly, and it sent a rush of heat through his chest. He had to admit, he was having way too much fun with this.

He leaned back again, trying to steady his racing thoughts. He shouldn’t focus on the way you looked, how you pouted when you tried to act mad. He definitely shouldn’t think about how cute it was when you crossed your arms like you were trying to protect yourself from his teasing. And he should definitely not think about you reading those locker room scenes. Getting all flushed and flustered for different reasons.

You glared at him but with a soft edge, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Oh, you think you can just throw out some hockey terminology and impress me?”

Jay shrugged, looking effortlessly confident. “Works for some people,” he said, a playful gleam in his eyes.

"Are you offering to teach me hockey rules so I understand my books better, Jay?", you leaned in closer to him. He could feel the warmth radiating from you, and for a brief, unhinged moment, he considered stepping closer.

“Why not? I’m practically a pro.” Jay’s lips curved into a slow grin. “I’d take it very seriously. After all, I’m in a prime position to verify the accuracy of the hockey parts.”

Your eyes rolled, but he caught the smile that tugged at your lips. "Oh, right," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because that’s the part of the book you’d focus on."

"Well, yeah," Jay said, his grin widening. "If it helps you visualize those locker room scenes better, I’m happy to provide insight."

He would love to provide insight on that. Desperately. The way you laughed, head thrown back, looking both exasperated and amused, made Jay's chest tighten again. You were so soft and pretty, he wanted to reach out and touch your face so badly.

“Alright, alright,” you said, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms again, but there was a slight smirk pulling at your lips. “You'll have to start with the basics. Even if i don't really need them to read hockey romances.”

Jay couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m just trying to help you expand your knowledge. It might come in handy and it’s educational.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Well, fine. Educate me,” you said, leaning forward a little, “I’m expecting some quality answers and a physical performance of important moves if necessary.”

“Trust me,” Jay said with a wink, “I always give a good performance.”

You were rubbing your hands onto each other while you were hurrying through the crowd of people entering the ice rink on the decelis campus. A few enthusiastic fans were already making their way to the stands even though the game was supposed to start in almost one and a half hours.

When you found Chaeryoung, she was already settled in her seat, looking completely at home in her oversized jersey with Yeonjun’s name printed on it. Her eyes sparkled as she scanned the players already warming up on the ice.

"Sorry I'm late," you said breathlessly, slipping into the empty seat next to her. "Professor Shin ignored that the lecture should have ended at four thirty and ended it like 20 minutes later. Made me want to shoot myself into my head."

“You’re just in time for warm-ups,” she said, nudging you lightly with her elbow. “Why does it take an evening together with Jay to convince you to come along to watch a game?”

You groaned, having had his conversation about three times since you asked her if she was watching the game today. “Like I told you, he invited me because he claims I will understand the rules better when watching a game in real life. Jay didn’t really have to convince me,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, but you could already feel the heat rising on your face. “He just... invited me. I thought it might be fun to see the game live.”

You would also like to see him in his element. The way he so enthusiastically explained everything and even showed you videos for better understanding, made you want to see him skate. He was right. You apparently did have a thing for tall hockey men with good stick handling skills. Especially if their names are Jay Park and they come and surprise you with food and butterflies in your stomach.

Chaeryoung let out a little snort of laughter, turning her head to look at you. “Uh-huh, sure. The ‘game’ convinced you to come.” Her tone was light, teasing, but there was a spark of amusement in her eyes.

You groaned, feeling your face heat up. “I’m just here to watch them play with their sticks. I guess?"

“Come on.”, she laughed, shaking her head “I see the way you are staring at Jay at any given chance.”

“First of all I am not staring, I am looking respectfully. And second of all why wouldn’t I? He is hot and I am here to be, you know, supportive to my new friend. Right. My new friend Jay.”, you didn’t sound convincing even to your own ears. But who were you to try to fool Chaeryoung, she could read you like the back of her hand.

Your friend raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden defensive tone. “Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s all you’re doing. Just being a good friend.”

You shot her a glare, but it only made her laugh more. “Hey, you should be happy you aren’t alone today and enjoy my presence. This may be a once in a lifetime thing.”

Chaeryoung just grinned, her eyes flickering back to the ice. “I am babes, don’t get me wrong. But Jay had to convince you?”

“Can we just focus on the game?”, you turned your gaze towards the ice, watching as the players from both teams were stretching and gliding around. “Or well, whatever they are doing there?”

“Warming up.”, she clarified, shrugging. “Jay's back number is 99, he is one of the forwards. Junnie is a defensemen but he is in the second line, so he won’t start the game.”

You nodded. You had picked up some of the basics. The forwards try to score, the defensemen block the shots, and the goalie defends the goal and is, according to Jay, absolutely batshit crazy. Well knowing Beomguy yourself, Jay's judgement of his character may be correct. The lines in the game are zones, don’t run over the zone line without a puck, don't trip anyone, don't play the puck above shoulder high, don't use your hockey stick to touch anything but the puck and try to not get into a brawl with anyone. If gloves come off, look away or enjoy men being brutal. Got that.

You tried to spot Jay. The players all wore the same gear and their helmets were keeping their faces hidden but they were moving so fast, you had a hard time keeping up with the back numbers.

The third period was just about to start when you reluctantly gathered your things, pulling your coat tighter around you.

“Leaving already?” Chaeryoung asked, her brows furrowing as she glanced at the ice. “The game’s just getting good!”

“I know, but I can’t be late for my shift,” you said, slipping your bag over your shoulder. “Haechan will rip my head off if i get there late and he has to spend his ‘precious friday evening in that shoe box’”

“You should think he loves his job, the way he boasts about being one of the hosts.”, Chaeryoung deadpanned.

“He does. He just doesn’t like being in the studio when he doesn't have to be.”, you shrugged and moved down a step, “Keep me updated and enjoy the rest of the game for me!”

“Oh, I will,” she teased. “I’ll let Jay know his friend had to skip out early. Have fun at the station.” she smiled at you, but her focus was back at the ice when the crowd around you groaned in frustration.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Navigating through the crowd, you made your way toward the exit, already mentally preparing for the long evening ahead. Just as you rounded the corner near the concessions, someone stepped into your path, nearly colliding with you.

“Whoa, hey!”

You looked up to find Sunghoon, his familiar grin spreading across his face.

“Sunghoon? What are you doing here?” you asked, surprised.

“Supporting the guys,” he said, gesturing toward the ice. “Jake claims I am his personal lucky charm so I am obligated to attend.”

“Right,” you said, stepping aside to let someone pass. “I forgot how close you all are.”

“What about you?” he asked, tilting his head. “Not sticking around for the third period?”

You sighed, hitching your bag higher on your shoulder. “I’d love to, but I’ve got a shift at the station.”

“Damn i forgot you host fridays,” he said, shaking his head sympathetically. “Too bad, though. There’s a party after the game. You should come celebrate their win and getting some free booze.”

“Wish I could, Jay also invited me, but I’ll be working until like eleven?”, you said with a shrug.

Sunghoon’s smirk widened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Bummer. I’m pretty sure he’d love to see you.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you rolled your eyes to play it cool. “I’ll try to stop by, but no promises.”

“Fair enough,” he said, stepping aside to let you pass. “I’ll let him know. He’s gonna be bummed, though.”

“Sure. I really have to get going. It was nice to see you Sunghoon, maybe until later.”, you smiled at him and continued your way to the exit of the ice rink.

You entered the studio just in time, as Haechan was queuing his last song of the evening. “This has been 37.5 MHz Haechan Radio. Thank you so much for listening.”

He clicked off his mic just as you dropped your bag on the couch by the door. Spinning his chair around, Haechan grinned at you.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” he said, throwing up his arms in a dramatic gesture.

“I’m literally right on time,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile as you let yourself into the recording booth.

“Barely,” he quipped, standing to stretch. “For a minute there, I thought you were gonna leave me hanging. Can you imagine? Poor me, abandoned, forced to extend my show just to fill dead air…”

“Spare me the dramatics,” you said, nudging him aside so you could take his seat. “You’d love the extra airtime, and you know it.”

“True,” he admitted, leaning against the desk as you adjusted the mic to your height. “But I also love my Friday night freedom.”

“I once did too.” you replied dryly.

Haechan laughed, giving you a quick salute as he grabbed his bag. “Knock ’em dead.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the studio. You settled into the chair and pulled your headphones on.

“This is Y/N, and you’re tuned in to 37.5 MHz. Today we are going to travel through time and listen to a lot of 90s and 2000 bangers, to get you all hyped up for your Friday evening parties. Please send in any song wishes or recommendations to our instagram and remember to have fun, but don’t have to much fun! This is Britney Spears with her hit song ‘Baby hit me one more time’,” you said into the mic, officially starting your programm of the evening.

This job was everything you’d dreamed of. Landing your own show at the station, especially on a Friday evening as a first year, was a big thing. You weren't about to take it for granted, especially since this job was looking very good in your CV. You always wanted to work in the entertainment industry and this was a good opportunity to get a foot into the door. But that didn’t mean it didn’t come with sacrifices.

Sometimes, you wondered if you’d been too eager to take Johnny’s spot. When he graduated he was looking for a new host to take over his show. He was ecstatic when he saw your application and a few days later his signature slot was yours. While you loved it, you couldn’t deny the occasional pang of regret when your friends made plans without you or when nights like this one rolled around.

The first hour passed uneventfully, your curated playlist keeping you company as you took requests and made the occasional announcement. You leaned back in your chair, pulling out your macbook to work on an essay that was due in a few days, while Rihanna was singing about her umbrellas in the background. You got a bit of work done before the four songs you queued up were done playing. As you announced the next track, your phone buzzed against the desk. You picked it up to find a text from Jay.

Jay Sunghoon told me you left early :( Wish I got to see you after the game

You smiled, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before you typed a reply.

Y/N Sorry :( I had to literally run to the station since i stayed as long as i could But I did catch that penalty kill in the second period I was holding my breath the whole time! Jay Oh wow, I’m impressed you remember what it’s called Look at you, turning into a real hockey pro You rolled your eyes at the screen, still smiling. Y/N I did actually pay attention when you explained the rules to me okay!! I’m still not entirely sure I know what offside means Jay We’ll work on that. I’m always available for hockey lessons Y/N Sure lmao The next time i am lost during the game I wont ask Chae but shout over the glass to ask you Jay Please do ahahah

You put your phone back onto the table, queuing up a few more songs after checking the recommendations in the stations instagram account, when you phone vibrated again.

Jay How’s the station? Y/N It’s fine, just me and the music I am working on the essay for COM 1 Jay Want some company? I could skip the party and come by :)

Your heart skipped, and for a moment, you stared at the screen, unsure how to respond.

Y/N That’s sweet, but you should celebrate with your friends I’ll be fine here Jay You’re sure? I don’t mind I’ve gotten drunk too often in the last few weeks My liver would thank me for a small pause Y/N Yes I am sure Park Go and celebrate your win!

After you wrapped up your shift and closed the station for the day you texted Lia and Chaeryoung that you were on your way to the bar and asked them to let you know if they were still there. As you stepped out into the cold night air your phone vibrated and you saw Chaeryoungs face smiling at you. You pressed your phone to your ear as Chaeryoung’s voice slurred through the line.

“Y/N! Where are you?” Chaeryoung’s voice was loud as she almost screamed over the loud background music.

“I’m on my way, Chaeryoung,” you said, pulling your jacket tighter.

She giggled. “Hurry up! They are doing body shots right now. The exchange students are going crazy right now.”

“I will babes. I’m there in like fifteen minutes.”, you hung up, laughing to yourself.

As you stood just inside the entryway of the full bar, scanning the room for Chaeryoung, you were bumped lightly from behind. Before you could even turn, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N!”

You spun around to find Sunghoon grinning at you. “You made it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “Have you seen Chaeryoung?”

“Yeah but she’s off doing god knows what,” Sunghoon laughed, shaking his head and swaying dangerously. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink!”

As you were pulled through the crowd, people greeted Sunghoon enthusiastically, clapping him on the back or offering him shots, which he accepted without hesitation. You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, and accept your first shots of the evening aswell.

At the bar, you spotted Jay leaning casually against the counter, a drink in hand. His cheeks were flushed, and his grin widened when he saw you approaching. His hair was tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it all night, and his leather jacket clung to his broad shoulders in a way that made your mouth dry.

“Y/N!” Jay called, his voice bright with excitement. He set his drink down and took a step toward you pulling you into a hug. Okay, this was new. Not bad. But new

“Jay,” you greeted a bit breathless, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped when you felt his broad chest collided with yours. He had to have a six pack. A eight pack??

After a second your brain decided to come back to its senses, even though your actual senses were filled with Jay. He smelled so heavenly. And his warm body pressing into yours was a stark contrast to the biting cold of the outside. “Congratulations on the win!”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling at you and letting you go from his embrace. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“I couldn’t miss the chance to celebrate,” you said, returning his smile.

Jay chuckled. “What are you drinking?"

“Whatever you can recommend?",” you shrugged, glancing around for Sunghoon, who had already wandered off.

Jay turned to the bartender and ordered a martini pornstar. Before you could say anything else, someone bumped into you, and you nearly lost your balance. Instinctively, you reached out to steady yourself, and before you could fall, you felt a firm hand settle on your waist.

“Careful,” Jay’s voice was low in your ear, his touch warm against your side.

“I’m fine,” you managed, glancing up at him, only to realize how close his face was to yours now.

“You really have to stop falling for me like this,” Jay teased, looking down at you.

You fought the urge to smile, biting back a grin. “If I remember correctly, I wasn’t exactly falling for you. I was trying my best not to faceplant. You just happened to be in the way.”

“In the way?” Jay’s lips curved into a teasing smile, and he placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “Ouch, Y/N. That stings.”

He rested his arm casually on the bar as he leaned in a little closer, just enough to make the space between you two feel impossibly small. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t faceplant,” he said softly, his gaze dipping to your lips for just a moment before meeting your eyes again. “That would’ve been tragic for both you and my jacket.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at him, the space between you two so close now that it felt impossible to focus on anything else.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d survive,” you whispered, unable to stop the way your eyes drifted down to his lips, then back to his intense gaze.

A very drunk Jake appeared on Jay’s other side, a grin plastered across his face. “Y/N!” he said loudly, throwing an arm around Jay’s shoulder to steady himself. “You`re here!”

“I am,” you replied, laughing softly at his enthusiasm. Looking back at Jay. His hand remained around your waist and his pretty face was pulled into a frown, when he looked at Jake.

“Do you want a shot?” Jake asked, not waiting for your answer before flagging down the bartender. “Three shots of tequila, please!”

Jay opened his mouth to protest but was immediately ignored as Jake handed you one of the shots, his grin widening.

“Cheers!” he said enthusiastically, raising his glass.

You glanced at Jay, whose lips curled into a smile but his eyes narrowed slightly. “I think that's not a good idea.” Jay said, his tone light but firm.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I think I can handle one shot,” you said, raising the glass to your lips.

You swallowed the shot, the heat spreading through your chest, but you didn’t break eye contact. His eyes flicked to your lips as you finished, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, almost predatory smirk.

“I know you can,” he murmured, his voice low. He was close enough now that you felt his breath against the shell of your ear as he spoke. You swallowed again. Hard. “I’m just not sure about him.”

Jake leaned over to order another round of shots. Jay let out a soft sigh, removing his hand from your hip, to stop his friend.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight, Jake,” Jay said, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder and steering him toward the crowd.

“You're a party pooper, Jay.”, he shook his head, “I am going to find Hoonie, he is going to want a shot!”

As Jake stumbled off again, you shook your head. “I should probably also find my friends before they think I bailed.”

Jay’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he masked it with a smile. “Sure. Will we see each other later?”

“Definitely,” you promised, giving him a small wave as you stepped back into the crowd.

The next time you bumped into Jay was on the dancefloor. You were dancing with your friends, singing, well screaming, along to the songs blaring from the speakers. Minho and Changbin had done an excellent job getting you drunk, offering shot after shot and drink after drink until everything around you buzzed with a pleasant warmth. The bass vibrated through your chest, as you lifted your lifted into the air, your hips instinctively moving to the beat.

The first beats of Teenage Dream started playing and you gasped.

“Oh my god! This is my song!” you exclaimed, closing your eyes as you belted out the lyrics.

When you opened them again, you spotted Jay and his friends stepping onto the dancefloor or more accurately, being pulled into the crowd by Jake and Sunghoon, with a reluctant-looking Heeseung trailing behind. Jay's grin widened when he spotted you, and before you could process it, he was steering his friends through the crowd into your direction. Jake almost immediately jumped Felix, also belting Teenage Dream.

“You’re a Katy Perry fan?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise as he reached you.

“Who isn’t?” you shot back, already singing along to the lyrics, your voice a little loud and off-key, as you swayed to the rhythm, your movements just slightly unsteady.

Jay laughed, and to your delight, he joined in, belting out the chorus.

“When did you get this drunk?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched you spin in place.

“I’m not drunk! Just tipsy!” you corrected with a grin, catching his arm to steady yourself mid-spin.

Jay’s hand instinctively came to your waist, steadying you as you giggled. “Okay, tipsy, maybe we should cool off for a bit?”

“Nooo!” you protested, grabbing his free hand and shaking it with exaggerated insistence. “We can’t leave Katy hanging!”

Jay threw his head back, laughing, but he didn’t argue. God he was so pretty. He stayed by your side, belting out the rest of the song with you, his voice blending with your off-key enthusiasm.

It wasn’t until the DJ transitioned to a rap track you didn’t recognize that you finally relented to take a small break. The world was a bit wonkier than you’d like and the fact that Jay was so close that you could feel his body heat radiate into yours made your heart beat faster than you'd like.

Jay guided you through the crowd, his hand warm on your back as he led you to the door. The cool night air hit your face like a splash of water, sobering you slightly as you stepped onto the patio.

You sighed in relief, tilting your head back to feel the cool breeze against your skin. “This is so much better,” you murmured.

You shivered slightly, tugging your cardigan tighter around you as you stepped onto the sidewalk. You spotted a bench a few feet away, its wooden slats looking inviting despite the cold. Without thinking, you made your way over and sat down.

Jay hesitated for a moment before joining you, his shoulder brushing yours lightly as he settled in. He glanced at you and frowned when he saw you shiver again.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your teeth chattered slightly.

Jay didn’t say anything. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. It smelled like him. Whatever cologne that is, it’s probably illegal in seven countries for how unfairly attractive it makes Jay smell.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, pulling it tighter around you.

“Of course,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long.

You tilted your head back to look at the sky, the stars faint against the glow of the city lights. “You were so cool at the game,” you said suddenly, your words slightly slurred.

Jay chuckled. “Oh yeah?”

“I mean it,” you insisted, turning to face him, though the motion made your head spin slightly. “The way you all move and like i don’t know glide over the ice? And you can still stop and ugh. It was very cool to watch. And i understood stuff. Very cool. And I am rambling. I should stop.” When did you get that drunk. You didn’t even drink that much. Maybe, just, a few shots and a few drinks? Okay. Scratch that, you did definitely drink more than planned.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, his expression softening. “That’s good to hear. I tried extra hard today, knowing you would be there and yeah.”

You positively beamed at him. He played good to impress you? “Oh that’s so nice. Thank you.”, without thinking you rested your head on his shoulders, shuffling a bit closer to him and his body warmth.

Jay froze for a second, but then you felt him rest his head on yours as well.

A yawn escaped you before you could stop it, and you blinked.

“Tired?” Jay asked.

“Nope,” you lied, shaking your head, though the weight of his jacket and the buzz of the alcohol were making you feel dangerously close to curling up right there. “Totally wide awake. I want more shots.”

Jay laughed, the sound vibrating through you. “I think you’ve had enough for one night.”

“Lies!” you declared, standing up abruptly. The world tilted, and you quickly sat back down, clutching the bench for support. “Maybe just one more.”

Jay groaned softly, running a hand through his hair as he watched you give him your best pout, complete with wide, imploring puppy eyes. “Y/N, you’ve already had, what? Five? Six shots?”

“Four,” you corrected, holding up three fingers. Then you frowned and switched to four. “Maybe five. But that’s not the point!”

Jay crossed his arms, one brow arching as he fought to keep a straight face. “The point is you’re done for the night.”

“I’m not,” you protested, leaning against the bench dramatically. “One more. One teeny, tiny little shot. Pleeease?”

Jay shook his head, laughing under his breath. “Y/N, no.”

You groaned, throwing your head back in mock despair. “But Jay, I never get to have this much fun.”

“Trust me, you’ll have more fun when you don’t wake up feeling like your head’s been run over by a car,” he teased.

You pouted harder. “You’re mean. The meanest ever. Jake would let me drink another shot. He is so nice”

Jay rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “You’re not going to guilt-trip me into this.”

You squinted at him, tilting your head as if assessing his resolve. Then, with a dramatic sigh, you straightened and muttered, “Fine. But only because you’re cute.” What.

Jay froze for a fraction of a second, the words clearly catching him off guard. “I’m cute?” he repeated, a teasing smile replacing his initial surprise.

“Devastatingly,” you mumbled, clearly not realizing what you’d just said and when you did, just a fraction too late you had the desire to hit your head onto the concrete floor.

Jay bit back a laugh, reaching out to steady you as you wobbled slightly. “Come on. Let’s get you some water, tipsy.”

Reluctantly, you let him help you up. His hand was warm and steady on your back as he guided you inside. The bar was still lively, and Jake immediately spotted you.

“Y/N! Another shot!” he shouted, holding up a glass triumphantly.

“Yes!” you started to cheer, but Jay’s arm came up, blocking you slightly as he intercepted the glass.

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly, tossing the shot back himself before placing the empty glass on the bar. The smoothness of his motion, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, left you momentarily speechless. All thoughts left your brain.

“That was so sexy,” you mumbled, barely realizing you’d said it out loud. You were pretty sure this shot could have been the beginning of an erotica movie. Amazing.

Jay turned to you, his lips twitching into a teasing smile. “Glad you think so.”

He handed the empty glass back to Jake, who looked mildly impressed despite his tipsy state. “That’s the last one. For everyone.”

“I hate you,” you muttered, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

“Sure you do,” Jay replied, his voice low and teasing.

He steered you gently toward your friends, making sure you said goodbye to everyone. Chaeryoung hugged you tightly, Felix gave you a goofy thumbs-up, and Jake pouted when Jay wouldn’t let him order another round.

When the two of you were back at the door, Jay stopped, turning to face you with a small frown. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”

“I’m sure,” you said, smiling up at him. “It’s a short walk. I’ll call you!”

Jay hesitated, his gaze searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. But call me as soon as you get home.”

“Deal,” you said, leaning up and impulsively pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek. You pulled back, the reality of what you’d just done hitting you like a freight train. Did you just kiss him? Oh my God, you just kissed him. Abort mission. Run. MOVE.

But your feet betrayed you, glued to the ground as heat flooded your face. “Uh- sorry. That was- I didn’t mean-” you stammered, your words tangling together and your face heating up. “Okay, I meant it, but I didn’t mean it like that, I just - oh my God, can you forget I just did that?”

Jay blinked, his expression shifting into something almost unreadable. Soft, maybe a little amused? Then his lips curved into the kind of smile that made your heart stumble over itself.

“I’m not forgetting that,” he said, his voice warm and quiet. “But if you want me to, I’ll pretend you didn’t just completely short-circuit in front of me.”

“I- ” you started, then closed your mouth, unsure if you should laugh or cry. Probably both. “I’m fine. Totally fine. I just - goodnight!”

You turned quickly, trying to escape the scene of your own emotional car crash, but Jay reached out, catching your wrist gently. The warmth of his hand stopped you dead.

“Hey.” His tone was soft, coaxing, as he leaned down just slightly to meet your gaze. “Don’t overthink it, okay? I liked it.”

You blinked at him, the words hitting like a slow wave. “You did?”

Jay’s grin widened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Yeah. Though I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm next time.”

“Next time?” you repeated, your voice rising an octave. Oh no, your brain has officially checked out again. Someone reboot you. “Next time,” he said firmly, letting go of your wrist but brushing his fingers over yours in a way that felt deliberate, lingering. “But for now, go home before I decide to ignore my better judgment and walk you there anyway.”

You could only nod, your heart thudding in your chest as you stumbled out into the cool night air. Next time. His words replayed over and over in your head as you made your way home.

When you could see your apartment building you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. Taking a deep breath and pretending that your heart wasn’t still racing you called Jay.

He picked up almost instantly. “Y/N?”

“I am almost home, Jay. I can see my apartment building already. I am safe and sound.”, you said softly.

“Good,” he said, his voice softening. “I’m still walking you to the door, though. Stay on the phone. I-” Jay was interrupted by Jakes slurred and offended voice.

“Y/N went home? My shots partner ditched me?”

Jay sighed, but there was an unmistakable fondness in his tone. “She didn’t ditch you. She’s tired and needed to get home.”

“You’re so boring,” Jake grumbled. “Let me talk to her!”

“Jake-”

“Jaaaay, let me talk to her!” Jake’s whining made you laugh, and Jay sighed in defeat before you could hear him handing the phone over.

“Y/N!” Jake’s voice boomed through the speaker.

“Jake,” you greeted, suppressing your laughter. The embarrassment, the fresh air and the bottle of water you bought in the GS25 did a good job in sobering you up at least a bit.

“You’re a traitor,” he accused, though his tone was playful. “We were supposed to keep the shot streak alive. Katy is playing again!”

“Next time,” you promised, nodding even though he could see you.

“Fine,” Jake said with a dramatic huff before handing the phone back.

“Sorry about that,” Jay said, his tone dry but amused.

“It’s okay. Jake’s fun.” You paused. “I’m almost home. You can hang up now and go back to the others.”

“No,” Jay said firmly. “I’m not hanging up. Not until you’re inside.”

You punched the pin to your apartment into the number pad as Jay was fending off a drunk Jake again. You haphazardly kicked off your shoes as Gracie trotted over to greet you.

“Oh my God, Gracie,” you squealed. “You’re so cute. Did you miss me? I missed you.”

Gracie purred loudly, rubbing her head against your hand.

“I’m home!” you declared into your speaker. “Also, guess what?”

Jay chuckled softly. “What?”

“Gracie missed me,” you said with a dramatic sigh, collapsing onto your couch. “Like, she’s acting like I’ve been gone for years. She’s the best cat ever, Jay. Like, ever. And she forgives me for leaving her because she loves me so much.”

Mhm. Maybe not as sober as you thought.

“Of course,” he said, his tone amused. “I’m glad Gracie forgives you. She’s very forgiving.”

“She is,” you agreed, stroking her fur as she curled up on your lap.

Jay laughed softly, the sound warm in your ear.

“But she’s still the best. I mean, look at her-wait, you can’t see her. She’s being adorable right now, though. You’d die.”

“I am sure she is.”, he laughed again.

Ugh why must his laugh be that attractive.

“I had so much fun tonight. And Gracie’s the cherry on top. She’s purring like crazy right now. ”

“Oh, really?” he teased.

“Really,” you insisted.

Jay’s laughter filled the line, warm and teasing. “You should sleep now.”

“Okay, fine,” you mumbled, getting up from the floor, “Congratulations on your win again.”

“Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me.” he said softly.

For a short moment neither of you said anything until he urged you to drink some water and to go to sleep.

“Good night, Y/N”

“Good night, Jay.”

God, you were in trouble.

The morning sunlight filtered through Jay’s curtains, waking him slowly. Blinking against the brightness, he stretched out on his bed, his muscles pleasantly sore.

He reached for his phone. The screen lit up, revealing a flood of notifications. New Instagram followers. Dozens of comments on his Posts. As well as a dozen DMs.

Choi Jeonghee What did you do?!

Jay groaned softly, rubbing his face as he sat up in bed. He did nothing, or well nothing that would have gotten him any trouble with the media or similar? After you left yesterday he collected Jake, Heeseung and Sunghoon and made them go home and he fell into his bed as soon as they walked through the doorway. Maybe his dad posted on the official instagram of Park ent. and tagged him?

He opened Instagram first, scrolling through the sea of new followers and tags. Confused, he checked his DMs, finding them packed with messages—mostly from strangers, a few from people he vaguely recognized.

Then he saw it: a tagged story from you.

Clicking on it, he was greeted by a short clip of the two of you from last night, dancing to Katy Perry. The video was shaky, and a bit blurry and Felix and Jakes voices were drowning out the actual singer by belting the lyrics. Even completely sober you looked beautiful to him. You were laughing and holding onto him, while he was looking at you like you were holding the stars in your eyes. You tagged him and the bar you met in yesterday. You also posted a picture of Chaeryoung during the match yesterday.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that your fans must have seen the story and just started following him because of that. You have told him before, that your fans were very invested in your love life and how you weren’t a big fan of that, so you tried to keep that as secret as possible, never really posting about it. They would love you and Han together but you assured him that you weren’t interested in Han a bit. He did believe you but he wasn’t so sure that Han felt the same. Every time he crossed paths with you and your friend group, whether on campus or down by the creek, Han shot him glances sharp enough to kill.

He was about to text Jeonghee back when a soft knocking sound came from his door and Heeseung peaked into his room. His hair was standing off in every direction.

“Good morning. You want breakfast? Jeonghee came over and brought some pasties from the creek to celebrate yesterday's win. And she kinda wants to know what you and Y/N did. She said she wants it straight from the source.”, his voice sounded a bit rough, like he just woke up as well.

Jay groaned, tossing his phone onto the bed. “I didn’t do anything. She tagged me in a story, and now her fans are swarming my account.”

“Tell that to Jeonghee, not me.”

Reluctantly, Jay got out of bed, throwing on a hoodie before heading to the kitchen. The smell of coffee and something vaguely burnt greeted him as he entered.

Jake and Sunghoon sat slumped at the table, their heads resting on their arms. Jeonghee sat by the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Morning, lover boy,” she greeted with a smirk.

Jay rolled his eyes, grabbing a mug. “Please don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Jeonghee began, sliding into a seat across from him, “that story went viral. Y/N’s fans are convinced you two are a thing. And honestly, from the way you were looking at her, I can’t blame them.”

Jake groaned, lifting his head slightly. “Can we talk quieter? My head feels like it’s been put through a blender.”

“Maybe don’t take shots with Sunghoon next time,” Jeonghee shot back, unimpressed.

Sunghoon raised a hand weakly. “I regret nothing.”

Jeonghee ignored him, turning her attention back to Jay. “Anyway, the engagement our posts have had in the last hours is insane. People started making edits for you.”

Jay frowned, his grip tightening on his mug. “What does that mean?”

“It means that her fans are now invested. And that she probably is too. I know from trustworthy sources that that should be the case. And I also know that if you don’t get your ass up soon someone else will.”

“You mean Han?”, Jay raised an eyebrow.

Sunghoon snorted, half-asleep. “Man, he is so hopeless.”

Jay shook his head. “I don’t think he has the balls to make a move on her.”

Jeonghee smirked, sipping her coffee. “I don’t think so either, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. You’ve seen how he hovers around her, Jay.”

Jay leaned back in his chair, processing her words. The thought of Han crowding you, oblivious to your lack of interest, made his jaw tighten. Especially after he knew you were not interested in Han. Maybe he was just as delusional as Han, but especially after yesterday he was sure that you had a thing for him.

Heeseung chimed in. “Look, Jay. You like her, right?”

Jay hesitated, glancing around the table at his friends. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I do.”

“Then what’s the holdup?” Heeseung asked, spreading his hands. “You’ve got an opening. Just… be honest with her.”

“Honest about what?” Jay asked, feigning ignorance. He was about to say that Heeseung was the one to speak. Before Jeonghee and Heeseung were officially together she slept over more times than Jay could count and the way Heeseung went all soft and crazy for their captain's daughter while not making a move (for almost half a season!!!) seems to be a tad worse than Jay's little crush on a random barista.

Jeonghee rolled her eyes. “About the fact that you look at her like she’s the only person in the room. And don’t even try to deny it. I saw the way you were staring at her in that Instagram story.”

Jake snickered. “It’s painfully obvious, man.”

Sunghoon lifted his head a bit. “If it works out I want credits for being your wingman yesterday.”

Jay groaned, running a hand down his face. “You guys are the worst.”

Jeonghee grinned, unbothered. “Maybe, but we’re also right.”

The studio was quiet, save for the faint hum of the equipment and the muted sound of the current song playing. You were reviewing your notes for your classes later in the day when your phone vibrated. You picked it up, squinting at the message.

Jay Hey, I’m outside. Do I just ring the bell, or…?

You blinked, rereading the text. Jay? Outside? You glanced at the clock. 7:02 a.m. What was he doing here?

Y/N Huh? What do you mean? Where are you?

The reply came quickly.

Jay In front of the studio. I figured you’d need some coffee. Should I ring, or can you let me in?

Your heart skipped a beat, and you scrambled to your feet. Slipping on your shoes, you hurried down the narrow hallway to the entrance. Pushing open the door, you were met with the cold morning air and Jay, holding two steaming cups of coffee, looking unfairly cute in his hoodie and a beanie pulled low over his hair.

“Morning,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small smile.

You stood there for a second, slightly stunned. “You-what are you doing here?”

“Morning practice,” he explained, holding up the coffee cups as if that explained everything. “I wanted to stop by. Thought you might need this.”

Your chest warmed, the gesture hitting you harder than you expected. “Jay, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, stepping inside as you held the door open for him.

Closing the door behind him, you led him back to the studio, sitting down by your equipment, still processing his surprise visit.

“You’re seriously the nicest person ever,” you said, taking one of the cups from him. The warmth seeped into your hands, and you cradled it gratefully. “Thank you. Really.”

Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the edge of your desk. “You’ve got a long morning ahead. Thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

You smiled and took a sip of your latte.

“Are you filming today?” Jay asked, noticing the camera on your desk.

“Uh, kind of,” you admitted. “But uhm don’t worry. I’ll cut you out of the vlog.”

“Oh no worries.”, he said waving into the camera.

You bit your lip, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I just-ugh, I feel so bad about tagging you in that story. My followers were so obnoxious. I’m sorry if they bothered you.”

He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. “They didn’t bother me. It was kind of sweet, in a way? lt was quite an ego boost to now have more followers than Heeseung.”

You ducked your head, your cheeks burning. “Still. I felt bad.”

Jay reached out, his hand brushing yours briefly, a gesture so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. “Don’t. It’s really not a big thing”

You glanced up at him, his warm gaze making your heart race. “If you say so.” you said softly.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, the quiet of the studio wrapping around you like a cocoon.

“You should sit,” you said finally, gesturing to the chair across from yours. “Do you wanna stay for a bit?”

He smiled, settling into the seat. “Sure. I’d love to.”

Jay settled into the chair across from you, his long legs stretched out slightly.

“So,” you began, fiddling with the edge of your notes. “Do you want to pick a song or something? I mean, since you’re here.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me? Don’t you have a whole playlist planned?”

You shrugged, feeling the familiar warmth creep up your neck. “Yeah, but I can squeeze something in. It’s my show, after all.”

His smile widened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. “You’re giving me creative control?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t make me regret it. No pressure, but pick something good.”

Jay leaned forward, a thoughtful expression on his face as he tapped his fingers lightly against the coffee cup. “Can I recommend a song in Japanese?” he asked, his tone soft.

You froze mid-sip of your coffee.

“Yes! Of course!” you said, your voice bright and eager.

His lips curled into a small smile, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

“Okay,” he said, pulling out his phone. “There’s this song I really likeドライフラワ by Yuuri. Do you know it?”

Your eyes widened, and you practically bounced in your seat. “Are you kidding? I love Yuuri!” you exclaimed, your hands coming together in an excited clap. “His songs are so good, and the storytelling in his music is incredible.”

Jay’s grin widened at your reaction. “Yeah, right? This one’s been stuck in my head lately. The vibes, the lyrics. It’s just so well done.”

You queued up the track immediately. As the music played, you glanced at him, a new thought crossing your mind. “How do you know Your?”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little bashful. “Well, I’ve been studying Japanese for a while. And I love music so I started listening to japanese artists a lot.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you shifted in your chair to face him fully. “Wait, what? You speak Japanese?” Shit. You tried to remember if you ever spoke Japanese around him. Or well if you spoke in Japanese about him AROUND him.

Jay chuckled, switching seamlessly into Japanese. “Well, I’m not that good, but I’m trying.”

Your face lit up, your smile so wide it practically hurt. You didn’t really get the opportunity to speak Japanese to anyone but your family that often and now Jay was speaking Japanese? “No way! You can really speak it! That’s amazing!”

He laughed softly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Thanks, but I’m not that good.”

You waved a hand dismissively, shaking your head. “Not at all! You sound pretty much fluent!”

He leaned back in his seat, setting his coffee down. “Okay, full disclosure: I actually started learning Japanese because of anime. It’s a little embarrassing, but yeah… anime and a ton of subtitles.”

You blinked at him for a moment before bursting into a soft laugh. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Completely serious,” he admitted, his smile sheepish but endearing. “I’d hear a phrase, look it up, and just… kept going. Then I got hooked on the language.”

You shook your head, still laughing but with a warmth that softened the sound. “I mean, fair. I can’t even judge you because I’ve been studying Korean with K-dramas for years. I even have a little notebook where I’d write down new words while watching.”

Jay’s brows rose in amused surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” you said, “When my parents decided to move here, none of us could speak korean and my brothers and I started watching K-dramas together. Taki and Yudai had to suffer a lot.”

Jay’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as he processed your words. “Wait, hold up. Yudai’s your brother?” he asked again, his tone mixing disbelief with amusement.

You grinned, leaning back in your seat a little.“Yeah, Yudai’s the older one, and Taki is the younger one,” you explained. “You might also know my dad. Professor Koga?”

Jay’s eyebrows shot up even further, and he let out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s kind of crazy. I didn’t realize you were his daughter. I’ve been on the receiving end of his lectures a couple of times” He trailed off, shaking his head with a small chuckle. “He’s intense, man.”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah, he is. Especially when it comes to his work. But when he’s at home, it’s like a totally different person. He’s a softie when it comes to family. Especially to Taki. I swear he never gets scolded for all of the shit he does.”

“I’ll have to remember that if I ever run into him again,” Jay said, looking genuinely impressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him being anything but intense.”

“He is a great dad.”, you said softly smiling.

You and Jay ended up talking until he was almost late for his morning training session. When Jay finally stood you found yourself reluctant to let him go.

“Thanks for stopping by,” you said as he lingered near the door.

“Thanks for letting me crash your show,” he replied, his voice light but his expression soft.

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, his lips brushing lightly against your cheek. “See you later?”

You swallowed and smiled. “Yeah. See you later.”

Later turned out to be more than a whole week later. Both of your schedules were so stuffed you couldn’t even grab lunch together. That didn’t stop you from non stop texting though. It was almost ironic how, no matter how chaotic life got, the two of you always ended up crossing paths at parties.

You were minding your own business, questioning all of your life choices while you were watching your friends play drunk jenga. So far Minho had to pick a body part to kiss from the person to his left. Much to his displeasure the person to his left was Changbin who was cackling the whole time. Minho, clearly not thrilled, ended up kissing Changbin's biceps, which, in fairness, wasn't the worst fate. Beomgyu had to strip his shirt and Ryujin had to text her ex ‘I miss you’ but opted out to take the two shots of whatever alcohol they were currently drinking. You would have killed her if she would have texted Mina again.

You decided to sit this round out. The last time you played, you had to give the person sitting opposite you a lap dance. Lucky for you, it was Lia and the two of you had been laughing the entire time. You hadn’t really known what you were doing, but judging by Chaeryoung’s enthusiastic thumbs up when you finished and the way Intak discreetly pulled a pillow onto his lap, you were pretty sure you’d at least done something right.

But today, Jay was playing too, and there was no way you were even risking the chance of giving him a lap dance. With your luck, that would’ve been your fate.

Instead, you leaned against the sofa armrest and took the time to not so obviously stare at Jay. He looked absolutely incredible tonight. He was wearing a tight fitted black t-shirt, his arms toned arms were almost screaming your name, paired with several chains. His dark jeans were snug, outlining his legs in a way that had you biting your lip before you could stop yourself. Every time he laughed, his whole face lit up. His smile was so damn attractive it made your heart race and you weren't even tipsy yet. He caught you staring at him more than once, but you just smiled at him and gestured him to focus back on the game. Which lead to him cocking his head to the side and smirking, not breaking eye contact waiting for you to back down.

You had no idea where your newfound confidence was coming from. Maybe it was because, the first time he saw you, he looked like he had just seen a ghost. And when his eyes slowly dragged up and down the tight black mini dress you’d borrowed from Chaeryoung, his ears turned bright red.

You stood up to get yourself another drink when you bumped into Yudai and Sakura exiting the kitchen.

"Whoa, watch where you're going!" Yudai said with a teasing grin.

He looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow. "That’s uh, an interesting choice of outfit, huh?" He smirked, crossing his arms. "A little short, don’t you think?"

You rolled your eyes, ready to defend yourself from your brother's overprotectiveness when his girlfriend immediately jumped in: “Yudai, shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She looks hot. Let her live."

Yudai scoffed, not backing down. "I’m just saying, she’s my baby sister, she shouldn’t be wearing stuff like that."

Sakura laughed, nudging Yudai. "She’s not a baby anymore.", she looked back at you, giving you an appreciative once-over. "You look amazing Y/N. You should wear dresses like that more often! It really suits you."

Yudai threw his hands up, playfully frustrated. "I’m just saying, I don't need to see my little sister looking like that."

Before you could respond, you felt a presence behind you, and Jay suddenly appeared, his hand on your elbow. You hadn’t even noticed him approaching, but now he was standing just a bit too close, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, Yudai. Sakura,” Jay greeted, giving them a friendly nod before his gaze flickered down to you. “Y/N.”

Nice. Just nice. Why now Jay. He had the whole evening to approach you. Why infront of Yudai?

You felt your cheeks flush instantly, the heat creeping up. You hoped your foundation was holding up because, knowing Sakura, she could probably see right through your flustered expression. Sure enough, she shot you a pointed look, a grin tugging at her lips.

“The others are going outside to play a round of beer pong, do you wanna come along?”, he asked, his focus solely on you.

You smiled at him and tried to ignore how your brother was mustering Jay. “Sure. I’ll come outside in just a second.”

He nodded and grinned at you: “Perfect, I’ll see you there.” And then he leaned forward, giving you a chaste cheek on your cheek. Your heart stopped for a second and then started beating so fast, you were sure if someone was to watch your chest they would see the rapid movements. He nodded at Yudai and Sakura and turned around.

The moment he left, you sighed and turned back to face your brother and his girlfriend. You knew exactly what was coming next.

“Not a word,” you said, your voice flat, glaring at them both.

Yudai gave you a knowing smirk, clearly not buying it. “Oh, come on. Y/Nie.”

Sakura wasn’t helping either. She snickered, leaning closer to you with an overly sweet smile. “I didn’t know you and Jay were a thing.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you took a deep breath. “We’re just... friends.”

Yudai raised an eyebrow. “Friends, huh? You sure blush a lot for just being friends.”

Your brain scrambled for a way out of this conversation. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen like you might just vanish in that direction.

Sakura leaned back, her grin widening. “Please, Y/N. Don’t even try.”

Your words started coming out in a jumbled mess. "I-what-no! Stop it!” you spluttered, praying for divine intervention. Someone. Anyone. Help. “We are just friends. Jay is way out of my league. You are imagining things.” Like the kiss they just saw. Maybe you were hallucinating that?

Sakura snorted and nudged your arm. “You are not out of his league. And, honestly, it’s obvious Jay likes you too. He kissed your cheek Y/N.” Okay, not a hallucination then.

You whined, shaking your head. “Stop! This is so embarrassing. I’m leaving. Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day!”

Before either of them could respond, you spun on your heel and headed for the back door, determined to escape their relentless teasing.

You found your friends pretty quickly. The hockey frats house was a bit off campus and had a gigantic yard with a pool and enough space for three beer pong tables lined next to each other. When you reached the tables you leaned into Chaeryoung, who was talking to Lia. “Please, please kill me.”

Chaeryoung laughed and petted your hair. "What's up Y/N?”

“Yudai and Sakura just saw me and Jay. I had to escape just now.”

Lia leaned in. “Why what did Jay do?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Please don’t make me relive this. I’m already mortified. Jay kissed my cheek, Yudai went full big-brother mode, and Sakura was just egging him on, calling me out for crushing on him.”

Lia laughed, crossing her arms. “Well, to be fair, you do have a massive crush on him.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, glaring at her.

Chaeryoung shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re hopeless, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, a voice startled the three of you from behind.“Y/N! ”

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around to look directly into Jay’s face, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a beer bottle.

Chaeryoung raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a laugh. “Speak of the devil.”

You shot them both a withering look but turned to make your way over. As you approached, Jay’s smile widened just slightly, his gaze softening.

“Would you like to play against Hee and Jake?” he asked, his tone light.

You nodded, trying to play it cool despite the way your heart was racing. “Sure. But if we lose, it’s all your fault.”

Jay chuckled, stepping aside to let you take your spot by the table. “Deal. We’re not going to lose.”

The two of you slipped into an easy rhythm. By the time you sank the last shot, your opponents were groaning in defeat, and Jay gave you a triumphant high-five.

“Told you,” he said, grinning. “We make a great team.”

You laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. “I never denied that. You are actually not terrible at this.”

Jay tilted his head, mock-offended. “Not terrible? That’s the best compliment I’m getting?”

“Take it or leave it,” you teased, your smile widening.

After the game, the two of you decided to take a break, grabbing fresh drinks before finding a quiet spot to just relax for a second.

The two settled onto a bench near the pool, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself as you glanced at the scene in front of you. Jay sat down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body beside you.

You tilted your head back to look at the stars, the coolness of the evening air brushing against your face. You could hear Jay breathing beside you, and after a moment, he turned his head slightly to look at you. You turned to meet his eyes.

“I’m glad we’re out here,” you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the breeze. “It’s nice.”

Jay nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah, it’s a lot better than being stuck inside.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. You closed your eyes for a second, just letting the calmness of the evening settle over you. You had morning classes and a hosting session behind you, and the exhaustion was finally catching up.

After a moment, Jay shifted slightly, his voice low. “How drunk are you?”

“Just a bit tipsy,” you admitted with a soft chuckle. “Not nearly as tipsy as last time though. Don’t worry.”

“Mhm you were pretty cute last week. I am not sure how you were handling the amount of shots you had that well, but Jake was feeling way worse than you did.”, he chuckled.

You blushed a bit as you turned to him, the soft glow of the pool lights reflecting in his eyes.

“Well, Jake’s a lightweight,” you said with a playful shrug. “But I’m also not usually one to go that hard. Guess I just felt comfortable last time.”

Jay’s smile widened. “Comfortable, huh?”

You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder. “Maybe. Don’t let it go to your head.”

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I won’t, but. I’m glad. I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

You glanced down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your dress, before daring to meet his gaze again. “I do. You make it easy.”

His eyes softened. “Good. That means a lot to me.”

Jay’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression thoughtful and gentle. The soft glow of the pool lights danced in his eyes, and you felt your heart thrum in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t control.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to him, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah?”

He hesitated.“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Of course. Shoot.”

Jay’s lips curled into a soft smile, and he leaned just a fraction closer, his voice low and steady. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Your cheeks warmed, your heart racing as his question settled over you. You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice.

Jay smiled, a small, relieved exhale escaping him. He lifted his hand, the touch of his fingers feather-light as they brushed your cheek, tilting your face gently toward him. He leaned in, his movements slow, giving you every chance to pull away. You didn’t.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes, afraid that if you did, he would disappear in front of your eyes.

Jay’s gaze searched yours for another heartbeat before his lips finally met yours.

His lips were warm, soft, and faintly flavored with the Malibu you’d both stolen earlier. You sighed into the kiss, your hand sliding up his back, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair. He shivered under your touch, and the quiet sound he made against your lips sent a thrill down your spine.

Jay’s hand cradled your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone as the kiss deepened. He angled his head slightly, his lips parting just enough for his tongue to brush against yours in a tentative, teasing motion. The sensation sent a wave of heat through you, and you instinctively leaned closer, your grip tightening in his hair as his free hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss grew bolder, his lips molding perfectly to yours as his tongue explored in slow, deliberate movements that left you breathless. You let out a soft, involuntary sigh, and he answered with a low hum that you felt resonate through your chest.

When you both finally pulled back his forehead came to rest against yours, both of you catching your breath. His eyes fluttered open, warm and dark in the soft glow of the party lights.

Jay broke the silence, his voice a whisper. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile, your forehead still pressed to his. “Me too,” you murmured, your voice barely above a breath. You carefully leaned forward again, reconnecting your lips. He hummed into the kiss and pulled you into his lap, but before anything else could happen a sharp voice rang out behind you, starling the both of you: “Y/N?”

You and Jay jumped apart, nearly tumbling off the bench as you scrambled to straighten up. You turned quickly, your breath caught in your throat. Standing there, a little unsteady on his feet, was Han. His face was flushed, his expression angry.

“Han?” you said cautiously.

Han’s gaze flicked from you to Jay, narrowing in irritation. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his voice louder than you are used to.

Jay stood up, his posture stiffening, concern flashing across his face.

"Han," you started, trying to steady your voice, “calm down please.”

But Han didn’t listen. His chest heaved with every breath, his eyes locked onto Jay with nothing but fury. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing, Jay. You think she’s just some game to you?” Han’s voice cracked, but he didn’t stop. "You have no right to mess with her like this."

You watched as Jay instinctively stepped in front of you, his posture defensive. His eyes remained locked on Han, while his hands reached out to push you further behind his body.

"Stay the hell away from her!" Han barked, his voice full of venom. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew I—” He hesitated for just a moment, then his eyes flared. “You knew I liked her. And you still just swooped in, didn't you? You think you can have everything, right?”

What?

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting. Your chest tightened.

He came closer to the two of you, stumbling a bit. “You think you are better than me, Jay? You think you can just come in and convince her to like you?”

Han liked you.

Your throat was closing up and your mind started reeling. Han, your best friend, the one person who had been there for you through thick and thin, the person who always understood you in ways no one else did, he had feelings for you. Feelings that went beyond friendship.

“Han, stop! You- you don’t mean all of this” you finally managed, your voice shaky but loud enough to be heard. "You’re drunk, and you need to calm down."

But Han didn’t listen. His glare that until just now was firmly on Jay, wandered to you.

“And now you’re defending him?” Han sneered, his tone laced with contempt. “Look at you, Y/N. All you ever wanted was a chance to get close to him. You're so desperate to get into his world that you'll let him use you. You think I don’t see it?”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't understand what was happening, but before you could even think of something to say he already continued.

“Jay's nothing but a rich kid with a pretty face and you’re just another one of his stupid stories,” Han spat, shaking his head as if the sight of you hurt him. "You’re wearing that dress for him, aren’t you? You want him to notice you, to think you’re hot.”

The words hit like a punch, leaving you breathless, your chest tightening in hurt. How could he say that? How could he turn on you like this, after everything you’d shared? It felt like he was ripping apart everything you’d ever believed in. It was too much. You could feel the tears starting to sting your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You were too angry, too confused, too hurt.

Jay stepped forward then, his jaw tight with anger. “Don’t talk to her like that,” he said, his voice low but filled with authority. “You’re completely out of line, Han.”

But Han wasn’t backing down. His eyes flickered between you and Jay, a mix of anger, betrayal, and something else you couldn’t even begin to understand. As Han’s words continued to lash out, it felt like they were pushing you farther away from him with every sentence. His anger was a torrent, and you were caught in the middle of it, struggling to catch your breath.

“You’re better than this, Y/N!” Han shouted, voice cracking with emotion, and his eyes locked on you, filled with something you couldn't place. “I am so disappointed in you.”

You blinked and took a step backwards. Disappointed? Why was he disappointed in you? Was he angry because you had feelings for someone else? Because you were making your own choices?

“Enough, Han,” Jay said, his voice steady. “You need to stop.”

But Han didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his eyes filled with something unreadable, and in that moment, you knew that no matter what you said now, nothing would change what had just happened.

“Do you think this is worth it?” Han spat, his hands trembling with barely contained rage. “You’re worth more than this. More than him. You’re better than this whole situation, and I don’t get why you’re throwing yourself into it like this!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could find the words, Jay’s hand slid into yours, gently but firmly intertwining your fingers. Han’s eyes snapped to Jay’s hand, his jaw clenching, his entire posture bracing as if he were about to snap. For a brief, heart-stopping second, you thought he might lash out, his anger bubbling over into something physical. But before anything else could happen you heard the sound of heavy footsteps and within moments, Minho and Bang Chan appeared, their eyes quickly scanning the situation. They took in the scene: Han standing there, furious and shaking with rage, Jay essentially hiding you behind his back, your hands intertwined. Minho didn’t hesitate for a second. His eyes locked onto Han, his voice calm but sharp. “Jisung. Enough.”

Bang Chan stepped forward too. “You need to back off. This isn’t the time for this.”

Han turned towards them, fists clenched, his breath ragged as he fought to keep his composure. His eyes darted between Minho and Jay, but neither of them flinched. They were standing firm, not backing down.

“You’re not helping, Minho,” Han spat, his voice low but seething with anger. “You don’t know what’s going on here. You don’t understand how much this matters.”

Minho took a step closer, not intimidated by Han’s rage. “I have heard enough Jisung. You are crossing a line.”

Han’s gaze shifted back to you, his expression flickering between frustration and something else. Something that looked like regret.

“You deserve so much more than this, Y/N. You deserve better than him,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, but still tinged with raw emotion.

You shook your head slowly, trying to make sense of his words. “No, Han,” you whispered, your voice wavering but firm. “You’re wrong. You don’t get to tell me what I deserve or who I should be with.”

Han opened his mouth to argue, but Minho stepped in again, his voice cutting through the tension. “This needs to stop, now.”

With that, Han’s shoulders slumped, his anger finally giving way to exhaustion. He looked defeated. Your heart ached for him. You loved Han. Just not the way he did.

Bang Chan nodded to Jay, signaling for him to take a step back with you. Jay’s grip on your hand tightened just slightly as he gave your hand a gentle tug.

Before either of you could get too far, Minho spoke again, his voice softer now. “Go. We’ll handle this.”

Jay didn’t hesitate, pulling you along with him, away from the confrontation. You didn’t look back at Han. You couldn’t. Not now, not after everything that had been said. The two of you walked quickly. Jay’s hand tightened around yours as he glanced back at you. Your mind was reeling and you felt a mix of emotions, from anger to confusion to sadness, and you couldn’t figure out how to make sense of any of it. Jay led you out of the party, walking past your friends and towards the main door.

Once you finally reached a quiet spot away from the house, you stopped, trying to catch your breath. You pulled your hand from Jay’s and looked up into the sky, trying to stop your tears and pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from wobbling.

“I’m so sorry about all of this,” Jay said quietly, his voice filled with regret.

You barely nodded, too shaken to speak, and when you finally looked at Jay the tears that you had been holding back spilled over, and you could feel them streaking down your face as your chest tightened. “I trusted him,” you whispered to Jay. “I thought he is my best friend. How could he say that to me?”

Jay stepped closer, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away a tear. "I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You didn’t deserve any of it."

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. That only resulted in your tears coming harder now. How could Han say that? You couldn’t stop asking yourself that question.

“I just... I don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “He’s my best friend, Jay. He’s always been there for me, and now he’s... he’s saying these things. Like I’m some-” You choked on your words, the hurt too much to contain.

Jay’s hand stayed on your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over the skin.

“He’s just angry and confused,” he said softly, his voice calm. “But that doesn’t excuse what he said. And it doesn’t change what you mean to me.” His eyes met yours, a steady, reassuring gaze. "You are so pretty, so clever, so kind. I can’t take my eyes off of you whenever I see you. I love hearing your laugh, I love to see you laugh. And I know you feel at least somewhat similar to how i feel about me. And you are not using me for anything."

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, staring at him.

He continued, his gaze not wavering, “You’re so strong, and passionate. You care so much about the people in your life.”

“Why does this have to be so complicated?” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

Jay’s lips parted, but before he could say anything, you found yourself stepping forward, your body instinctively seeking his closeness. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace, and you felt a small weight lift from your chest as his warmth surrounded you.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” Jay whispered against your hair, his voice soft and soothing. “Don’t blame yourself for this. Han’s confused, and drunk.”

Your tears slowed. You nodded against his chest, letting yourself just breathe, allowing the silence to envelop you for a moment longer.

After a few moments, Jay pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. “Do you want to go back inside, or do you need a little more time?”

You hesitated, glancing back toward the house. The sounds of the party still buzzed in the distance. You didn’t know what to do with all of the emotions swirling inside, but you knew one thing: You didn’t want to face Han again right now.

“I think I want to go home,” you said softly, your voice steadying just a little bit.

Jay gave you a small, comforting smile, his hands still resting on your arms. “Let’s get you home Y/N.”

The walk to your flat was slow and silent. When you reached your apartment, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. Jay followed you, crouching down to greet Gracie.

Wordlessly, you made your way to the living room, sinking down onto the couch. You pressed the palms of your hands into your face, letting out a long, shaky breath.

Jay didn’t follow you, but walked into the kitchen. He came to the living room, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“Here,” he said gently, handing you the glass. “You should drink something.”

You took the glass with a nod, sipping slowly. The cool water felt good against your dry throat, and for a moment, you let the quietness between the two of you settle.

Jay’s voice broke the silence after a while, soft and coaxing. “Hey, maybe you should get ready for bed? You’ve had a long day.”

You met his gaze for a moment, then looked down. “Yeah, you’re right,” you said quietly, setting the empty glass down on the table.

“I’ll wait here,” Jay said with a small smile, petting Gracie, who had curled up next to him, “Take your time.”

You gave him a brief nod and walked toward the bathroom. The sound of the water running as you washed your face was a small, soothing comfort as you tried to shake off the lingering tension in your body. When you finished washing your face, you slipped Chaeyoungs dress over your head, tossing it into a corner and grabbing your pajama.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Jay was still sitting on the couch, Gracie snuggled up beside him. You felt a small flicker of warmth in your chest at the sight of them. You walked over and sat down next to him, letting out a soft sigh as you settled your head onto his shoulder.

Jay looked down at you, a faint smile on his lips. "You okay?"

You didn’t respond immediately, just nestled in closer, closing your eyes for a moment.

After a few seconds, you spoke, your voice soft. “Stay, Jay. Please.”

His hand rested on top of yours. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

With that you felt another tear rolling down your cheek and your breath started hitching. You buried your face in Jays shoulder and he maneuvered you into his lap, carefully caressing your back but not saying anything. He let you just silently cry for a while.

After a long moment, his voice broke the stillness, soft and careful. “Do you want to go to bed?”

You nodded, still resting your head on his chest. He didn’t rush you, just helped you gently up from the couch, guiding you with a tenderness that made your chest ache a little less.

When you reached your bedroom, Jay watched you as you wiped away the last of your tears, your skin still flushed. You stepped forward, pulling a set of clothes from a drawer. “Here,” you said quietly, holding them out to him. “These should be more comfortable.”

Jay accepted the clothes with a quiet nod. "Thanks," he murmured.

A small laugh escaped you as you sniffled. “It’s Niki’s,” you explained with a weak smile. “But he’s at least two meters tall, so I think you’ll fit in it just fine. Taki and he love to crash here so they have their own drawer.”

Jay chuckled softly, the sound soothing to your frazzled mind.

You watched him as he turned toward the bathroom to change. When he returned, you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of him in the oversized PJs.

You both settled into the bed, Jay sliding in beside you carefully, keeping a respectful distance. You moved closer to him and put your head onto his chest. His arm gently wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You could hear his steady breathing, feel the calmness in the air, and it lulled you in. Slowly, the tension in your body started to loosen. His steady presence next to you, the soft caresses in your hair, and the rhythm of his breathing were enough to quiet the storm inside your head. You let your eyes flutter shut.

The soft morning light filtered through the beige curtains in your bedroom, casting a gentle glow over the room. Jay blinked awake slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light.

You slightly shifted in your sleep, still tucked close to him, your head resting on his chest, your legs tangled with his. Your steady breaths warmed the fabric of his shirt. To his side, Gracie purred quietly, curled into the space between his ribs and one of the pillows on your bed. Jay absently rubbed a hand over her fur as his mind wandered back to the night before.

What the hell had happened?

Han’s voice echoed in his head, sharp and angry. Jay could still see the hurt in your eyes, the way your voice had cracked when you told him you trusted Han. He hated that you’d been put in that position, hated that someone who was supposed to care about you had caused you so much pain.

Jay let out a quiet breath, careful not to disturb you. Gently, he shifted beneath you, and though you stirred slightly again, your fingers clinging to his shirt for a moment, you didn’t wake up. He took a second to study you. Your hair was spread like a halo across the pillow, the soft curls from the evening before now almost completely gone. Jay’s fingers brushed softly over your cheek. His heart ached at the slight puffiness around your eyes. His stomach growled softly, snapping him out of the moment. Slowly, he slipped out of bed, pausing to make sure he didn’t wake you up. You shifted slightly in your sleep, but the soft rise and fall of your chest remained steady. Jay watched for a moment longer before heading out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

He walked into the living room, taking in the quiet stillness of your space. Your jackets were still haphazardly thrown over the back of the sofa. Jay reached out, carefully hanging them back up by the door before moving to the coffee table to pick up the empty glass of water you’d left behind. He glanced down at his phone, still resting on the sofa cushion.

He sighed, unlocking it to find a barrage of messages waiting for him.

Puckin’ Legends and Sunghoon Heeseung hyung Did you get home okay? Jake Is Y/N alright? Jonghee told us what happened Hoon Dude, answer us. I am starting to get really worried Jay Y/N is sleeping right now Fucking hell I’ll update you when i am home later

There were also messages from Chaeryoung and several of your friends, asking similar questions. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen.

He decided to at least answer Chaeryoung, telling her that you were okay right now and that she should call you later.

He stared at the messages from Felix.

Felix (DA swim) Jay i am so sorry for what happened yesterday We lost Han and he found the two of you before we did I know you went home with Y/N Please take care of her. She is going to pretend everything is fine. Don’t let her. Make her talk to you, please. I'll make sure Han won’t text her, tell her to take all the time she needs. And for the record, i am really happy for the two of you.

After a moment’s deliberation, he decided against responding for now, slipping his phone into his pocket and heading into the kitchen.

Jay stood in front of your fridge, scanning its content for something useful. He found eggs, a few vegetables and some microwavable rice. It wasn’t much to work with, but it would do. He reached for a chopping board and a frying pan, deciding on egg fried rice.

The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board was oddly calming. After a while he heard your bedroom door creaking open quietly and the soft shuffle of feet behind him.

Jay turned slightly, but before he could say anything, you pressed your face into the space between his shoulders, your arms sliding around his waist. He froze for a second but let his body relax, molding into your hug. He rested his hands over yours where they curled against his stomach. “Morning,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly to look at you.

“Morning,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against him.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, or well moved your head in something that felt like a shake of your head against his back. “No,” you murmured

Jay hummed and resumed chopping vegetables, the soft thud of the knife against the cutting board filling the stillness of the kitchen. Your arms stayed loosely wrapped around him, your forehead resting between his shoulder blades.

A soft meow broke the stillness, drawing both of your gazes toward the kitchen doorway. Gracie padded into the kitchen, stretching lazily before meowing at the cabinet where her food was kept. You rubbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie before moving to get her some food, your movements slow and unhurried. If it wasn’t for what happened yesterday, Jay would have loved the domestic atmosphere of the situation.

He glanced at you as you moved to the cabinet. You’d changed into an oversized hoodie with the initials DA Swimming Team printed across the back. It hung loosely on you, the sleeves slightly too long. As you crouched to pour Gracie’s food, Jay’s thoughts drifted. Maybe he should text Yudai. He didn’t really know what to say, but you seemed to be quite close to your brothers so their comfort may be better than anything he could give you.

Your phone started buzzing from the sofa table, faint and insistent you seemed to not hear it.

Jay hesitated. “Your phone’s going off,” he said softly, glancing toward the living room.

“Ignore it,” you replied, your voice quiet and flat. You poured a glass of water, sipping it slowly as your gaze lingered on the counter.

Jay didn’t press. He turned back to the stove, stirring the rice and vegetables. Normally, cooking brought him a kind of peace, but now, every sound, the sizzle of the pan, the scrape of the spoon, felt too loud. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you walking towards the living room, shutting off your alarm. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he finished cooking in silence, the aroma of fried rice filling the room. You wordlessly started decking the table while Jay slid the food onto plates.

As you sat down across from him, the silence lingered. Neither of you had the energy to fill it, and for now, that was okay. Jay would wait. For now, he’d let you have the space you needed, even if it meant sitting across from each other in silence.

Jay left when it was already dark. The two of you spend the rest of the day curled up in your bed watching Howl's moving castle, eating the leftover fried rice from your breakfast. He was so soft and caring all day and you felt so bad for making him do all of this. You didn’t want to seem like a charity case he had to care for.

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Your thoughts wandered back to the last 24 hours. How could everything have gone so wrong. One moment you were kissing Jay, his lips so soft and gentle on yours and the next your childhood best friend accuses you of essentially being a puck bunny after he confessed and you didn't reciprocate his feelings? And then he dared to claim he was disappointed in you?

You sighed again, louder this time, and threw yourself back against the pillow, your arms flung wide. Why did it have to be so hard? You reached for your phone, ignoring all of your notifications that accumulated over the day. You unlocked it and typed a quick message to Jaemin.

Can you take over my shift at the café tomorrow? I am not feeling too well :(

You hesitated for a moment before hitting send, then set the phone aside and buried your face in the pillow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, you will deal with it all.

You were good at pretending.

Or at least, you were trying to be.

After you took a day for yourself, not leaving bed and only replying to Chae, Jay and your brothers you decided to get back on track.

You went to the station, delivered your segments with faked enthusiasm, your voice steady even when your hands trembled.

You went to your classes, tried to pay attention, tried to focus on the words the professors were saying.

You went to the creek, smiled and served customers.

You even stayed on track with your usual posting schedule, posting a book review about a childhood friends-to-lovers book. It was ironic, really.

Almost two weeks have passed since the party and your backlog of pre-recorded videos was running dry. You haven’t had the motivation to film anything, your latest update on any social media platform being that book review from a week ago.

You clicked "publish" for your last pre recorded and cut video, a monthly recap vlog and sighed.

You were exhausted. It was easier to keep moving, to keep working, than to face the truth. You couldn’t afford to stop, to let everything sink in. You needed to act like nothing had changed.

Around your friends, you acted like nothing had changed. You smiled through your shifts at the café, laughed at jokes you didn’t find funny, and acted like everything was alright. They asked how you were doing, and you gave them your best reassuring smile.

You don’t think they believed a single word you said. They knew something was off. Obviously. You haven’t seen Han since that night, but you know that Felix was taking care of him. You knew that Jay was giving him updates on how you were feeling. Felix and the others tried to reach out, telling you that they were sorry, they didn’t stop, telling you to not feel bad, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer them. Not yet.

You loved spending time with Jay.

His schedule was always packed with practices and games, but whenever he had a free moment, Jay would find a way to drop by the café or send you a quick text asking if you wanted to grab a bite. It was never anything extravagant, just small, quiet moments together between his and your hectic schedule.

You hadn’t really talked about what you were or where things stood between the two of you. It was an unspoken thing that hung between you, something both of you hadn’t fully addressed. But you weren’t in any rush. In a way, it felt comfortable this way. No pressure, no expectations. Just being around each other when you could, enjoying the small, sweet moments without overthinking it. You liked it. You liked him. Maybe it wasn’t official, and maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but for now, that was okay. You were content with how things were, with how he made you feel. You started to get more comfortable around the rink too. Sometimes, after his practices, Jay would invite you to watch his team scrimmage or just hang out in the stands while the guys warmed up. You still didn’t know much about hockey, but that didn’t matter. You were just enjoying your time in the rink, away from all of the chaos. You grew quite close to Jeonghee, the social media manager of the team, since you spend a lot of time in her office. You taught her quite a few handy tips and tricks for editing videos and she claims that you were the best thing that happened to the hockey team. She invited you over to Jays flat more often than he did himself, claiming she needed some female support when dealing with her boyfriend and his roommates, which includes your (almost?) boyfriend, aswell.

It was almost like a ritual. You’d sit in the stands talking or recording something with Jonghee, him glancing over to see you there between drills, his eyes lighting up when he caught your gaze. And afterward, the two would end up in either your or his apartment.

Jay stood under the hot stream of water, the pressure of it soothing his tired muscles. His mind raced in a whirl of thoughts. His coach was relentless the past few training sessions, always pushing him and his teammates to the limit, after they lost the last two games. They had to win the game against Merrimak today. They had to.

He signed and finished his shower a few minutes after, grabbing a towel to dry himself. As he did, he noticed his toiletries, his shampoo, conditioner, and a few other things, scattered neatly around your bathroom. He smiled softly to himself.

He walked back into the bedroom, wearing a new set of boxers and nothing else. You were still asleep on your bed, your soft breathing barely audible in the quiet room. He reached out, running his fingers lightly across your cheek, brushing aside a few stray strands of hair that had fallen across your face. Jay stayed there for a moment, just watching you.

He loved being with you, more than he could put into words. He loved your little quirks and habits, he loved the way he felt when he spend time with you, how well you fitted in with his friends. But he couldn’t help the weight that settled in his chest every time he thought about how things had unfolded. He hated the circumstances that had led to this, the fight with Han, the fallout, the awkward silences and lingering tension between you and your friends. It wasn’t how he wanted this to start.

His jaw clenched as he thought about Han. He knew his anger wasn’t entirely fair, feelings weren’t something you could control, but that didn’t stop him from resenting the way Han had approached everything. Confessing to you like that, knowing you didn’t feel the same, had set off a chain of events that neither of you deserved.

You stirred slightly, your face scrunching up in that adorable way it always did when you were just waking up. Jay smiled down at you, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

As your eyes fluttered open, he whispered, “Morning.”

Jay couldn’t resist leaning down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back slightly, his gaze tracing the features of your face as you slowly woke. You looked up at him, your eyes soft and a little dazed, and his heart stuttered in his chest.

He leaned in again, this time capturing your lips in a slow kiss. The softness of your lips against his was enough to make his head spin. When you responded, by pulling him closer with a hand on his shoulder, he let out a quiet, satisfied hum, his hand slipping from your cheek to your waist.

The oversized shirt you wore had ridden up slightly, and the feel of your bare skin under his fingertips made his pulse quicken. His lips moved against yours with a growing intensity, and when you sighed softly into the kiss, he felt heat pool low in his stomach.

Your cold fingers trailed along his still damp chest and he couldn’t suppress the sharp inhale that followed. The sensation sent shivers racing down his spine, and he instinctively shifted closer, deepening the kiss. As you arched into him, your hips brushing against his in a way that made his breath hitch, Jay felt his self-control slipping.

He broke the kiss just enough to lay you back gently against the bed, hovering above you as his lips found your jawline. He pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, savoring the way you shivered beneath him.

“Jay…” you breathed, his name leaving your lips in a way that made every nerve in his body hum.

“Yeah?” he whispered, his voice low and rough as his hand slid up your thigh, his palm pressing lightly against your skin before settling at your hip.

You didn’t answer, instead pulling him back to you, capturing his lips with yours.

Your hand trailed up to the nape of his neck, tangling in his damp hair, slightly pulling at the strands. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating between you as his hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing along your side. You whined against his lips, your hips bucking up slightly, meeting his crotch. The sensation sent a rush of heat through him, and his grip on your waist tightened instinctively. His lips trailed back to your neck, where he left slow, lingering kisses, savoring the soft gasps that escaped you.

As his hand drifted higher beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing the edge of your ribs, his alarm cut through the quiet, shrill and unrelenting.

Jay froze, his forehead dropping to your shoulder with a groan of frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, reaching over to silence it with an annoyed swipe.

You laughed softly, your chest still rising and falling rapidly against his. He looked down at you, the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips making it almost impossible to pull away.

He leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time.

“We’ll pick this up later,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, before reluctantly rolling away, the lingering warmth of your body making him already crave more.

Every fiber of him wanted to stay, feel your lips on his, feel your body on his. But he also really didn’t want to be late for a game day. CC was already mad at him. He didn’t know for what, probably for breathing too loud into his direction or something similarly trivial. He was still praying for Heeseung, having CC as his, well almost, father in law seemed like hell.

Jay stood up with a sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. He moved toward his bag, which rested against the side of the bed, fishing out a fresh T-shirt for the day. His frustration deepened as his body refused to cooperate with his rational thoughts. The heat of your kiss, the way you’d clung to him, your soft gasps, all of it played on a loop in his mind, making it nearly impossible to focus. He clenched his jaw, trying to will his body into submission. Hockey drills. Push-ups. Coach Choi yelling about bad passes. Just Coach Choi. Maybe Coach Choi naked?

He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head slightly as he grabbed his jeans.Trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of restricting his hard on.

“What the hell,” you muttered, the confusion in your tone pulling his attention instantly.

Jay watched as the confusion on your face morphed into a frown, your lips pressing into a thin line.

“Y/N?” he asked softly.

Your frown deepened as you scrolled through your notifications. “I…I don’t know what happened. It’s…they… the comments.” you said quietly.

Jay’s jaw tightened as he leaned over to glance at your screen. Comment after comment, calling you a slut, a gold digger, and worse. “The fuck…” he muttered under his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the heat rising in his neck. His eyes scanned the hateful remarks, his stomach sinking with every word he saw.

“He could’ve had anyone, but he chose a girl like that? I can’t believe he’s that dumb. Jay deserves better than her, honestly.”“He deserves better than this. Just look at her.”“Stay away from my man, you’re ruining his image.”

"What does Jay even see in her? She’s not even pretty enough to be with someone like him."

"She’s not even his type. It’s obvious she’s just using him for clout."

His breath quickened as his gaze flicked back to you. Your face was pale, your eyes wide with confusion and shock. His earlier frustration from the alarm morphed into pure, unfiltered anger. His hands clenched at his sides.

You flipped between your accounts, your fingers trembling. "What the hell is wrong with people?" You muttered, scrolling past endless hate, barely acknowledging the kind comments that were hidden beneath the sea of hate.

Without thinking, he reached for your phone, gently but firmly taking it from your hands. His jaw clenched harder, his pulse hammering in his ears. He set it down on the bed, his heart aching as he looked at you and cupped your face in his hands. “Hey,” he said softly, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “Don’t look at it.”

“Shit,” you muttered, biting your lip in frustration. “Why are they doing this, Jay? How do they even know about us?” You sighed deeply, your shoulders slumping. “I am so sorry Jay. I never wanted to drag you into the mess my life is. This is all my fault”

“No, it’s not,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “This is on them, not you. Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do.”, he paused for a second, “You didn’t drag me into anything, Y/N,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering. “I’m here because I want to be. This is on me too.”

Your lips quivered as you met his eyes. “But they’re saying such horrible things. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” Jay felt a wave of frustration rise in him, but he held it back, focusing instead on reassuring her. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. People hate on any and everything.” “I know,” you whispered, still trying to hold yourself together. “But they’re everywhere. And some of them are even saying stuff about your career.” Jay took a deep breath, his expression softening. He gently tilted your head so your gazes locked, his thumb brushing the skin under your eyes. “Y/N,” he said, his voice serious, “I don’t care. I am signed with the eagles. If I call Namjoon he will for sure understand that you have done nothing to deserve this and there won’t be any consequences. Don’t worry about me.” You sighed deeply, sitting up as you glanced at him, your face pale. “I should’ve been more careful with what I posted.” you said softly, your voice laced with regret. “You should turn off your comments on your posts. Or privatize them. It’s just... it’s too much. You don’t need this.” “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low but firm, “I won’t delete any pictures. I’m proud of them. Proud of us. I’m happy to have you here, with me. You don’t need to apologize for any of this.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he stopped you by leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours. You stiffened for a second, then melted into it, your hands sliding to his shoulders as you kissed him back.

When you broke apart, he held you close, his hands still gently cradling your face. “I won’t delete them, Y/N,” he repeated, his voice steady. You held your breath for a second, considering his words. “But they’re... they’re being so cruel.” “They don’t matter,” he said firmly, kissing your forehead before standing up. “They can say whatever they want. I like you Y/N. Hell I even might love you. I love being there for you. And if that means dealing with some crap along the way? So be it. I’m not going anywhere.” You didn’t say anything for a moment, your eyes searching his face. And then, finally, you nodded, your shoulders relaxing a little. Oh lord. He said the L word. Or well almost. A month after the two of you started dating. His heart was racing waiting for your answer. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try. I just don’t want to hurt you.” “You’re not,” he said, smiling softly. “You’re not hurting me, Y/N. I’ll handle it. We’ll handle it.” His heart clenched when you didn’t say it back. But it was fine. He also didn’t really say ‘i love you’. If he was going to say those three words he will do it properly. You gave him a small, grateful smile before looking down at your phone again. “I’ll turn off my notifications,” you said quietly, tapping the screen to go into your settings. He hummed and pressed a kiss onto your head again. “Turn your phone off completely.I’ll think of a way to deal with this.” You sniffed and followed his instructions, turning your phone off. “I’ll see you when I get back, okay baby?” he said, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. You nodded, your eyes following him with a mixture of longing and sadness. “Okay,” you whispered, “Go kick Riverfields arse.” He smiled. “Of course.”

Jay’s fingers tightened around his phone as he scrolled through a flood of notifications, his stomach sinking with every word he saw. His vision blurred slightly, not from the tears threatening to rise, but from the sheer intensity of the anger and frustration that kept bubbling up with each new comment. He figured out the hate came from his “fans”. Disliking him having a girlfriend. Apparently that gave them the right to hate on you and him as well, commenting on his recent instagram photo dump about how he should not be with you, how you are just together with him for his fame. He scrolled to the top of his instagram account page. 26.515 followers. Most of them only followed him after you posted pictures tagging him. The worst part? It wasn’t just his account. It was spilling over onto his father’s business page too. His blood ran cold as he read the comments infecting the companies page and his fathers personal account as well. Why drag his family into this? He hadn’t even had the chance to tell his parents personally that he was seeing you seriously. He ran a hand through his hair, his chest tightening. “Yo, Jay.” Jake nudged his arm from the seat next to him, lowering his voice to avoid catching the attention of the others. “You good, man? You’ve been glued to your phone the whole ride.” Jay forced a tight smile, barely looking up. “I’m fine. Just dealing with some… stuff.” Jake frowned, unconvinced, but nodded, deciding to drop it for now. “Alright. Can you forget about that stuff when we are on the ice later? We need you focused." “Yeah. Sure.” Jay muttered, already zoning out again. The bus pulled into the rink parking lot, and as the team shuffled off, Jay hung back, letting everyone else move ahead while he stayed by the bus for a moment. He glanced at his phone one last time, taking a deep breath before dialing his dad’s number.

“Son,” his dad’s familiar voice greeted him, warm but gentle, like always. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the game right now? Your mom and I are trying to watch a live stream of it later.” Jay hesitated, his grip on the phone tightening. “Yeah, I know. I just… I need to talk to you about something first." There was a pause on the other end. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?” Jay let out a slow breath, his free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Sort of. It’s about… someone." “Someone?” his dad asked, the slightest note of curiosity creeping into his voice. “Go on.” “There’s this girl,” Jay began, the words awkward and halting as he tried to piece them together. “Her name’s Y/N, and we’ve been… seeing each other. It’s been a little while now. She’s amazing, Dad. She’s smart, kind, funny. There was a pause on the other end before his dad’s voice returned, calm but kind. “I see. That’s lovely, Jay. And you’re calling me because…?”

Jay leaned against the side of the bus, staring down at the asphalt. “Because people found out. She’s a content creator. She makes videos, book reviews, vlogs stuff like that. She’s got a big following, but… I guess some people who follow me don’t like the idea of us being together. And now, they’re tearing her apart online. She’s getting all this hate, Dad, and it’s… it’s bad. Even the company’s socials are getting hit because of me.” His dad let out a soft sigh, and Jay could picture him leaning back in his chair, likely pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did when he was thinking. “The social media team filled me in earlier today,” his dad admitted. “They’ve been monitoring the situation and handling most of it, trying to keep it from escalating on our platforms. I didn’t want to distract you with it, especially with how important tonight’s game is.” Jay’s jaw clenched. “It’s bad, Dad. They’re coming for her like she did something wrong just by being with me. She doesn’t deserve this. I don’t even know how to fix it.” “You can’t control what people say, son,” his dad said gently. “I know it’s frustrating, but people always talk, especially when someone they admire starts living their life outside of the image those fans have built up in their heads. This isn’t Y/N’s fault, and it’s not yours either.” Jay leaned against the side of the bus, staring at the asphalt below. “I feel like I dragged her into this mess, though. She didn’t ask for any of it. And now, even the company is getting hit because of me.” His dad’s voice softened even further. “Jay, listen to me. The company can handle itself. That’s why we have a team in place, to deal with things like this. What matters to me, what matters to your mom, is that you’re happy. And if Y/N is a part of that happiness, then we’ll support you. People will always find reasons to criticize. It’s not fair, but it’s the reality of being in the spotlight.” His dad paused, then spoke with quiet conviction. “Does she make you happy?” Jay blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of the question. “Yeah. She does. A lot.” “Then don’t let anyone take that away from you,” his dad said firmly. “And don’t let her think for one second that she’s not worth it. People like to tear others down because they think they can. But if you and Y/N stick together, you can get through this. And as for the company? That’s my problem, not yours. You let me handle that.” Jay swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “Thanks, Dad. I just… thank you.” “You can always talk to me, son,” his dad replied. “And when you’re ready, bring her by. Your mom will want to meet her, and frankly, so do I. Anyone who can make you this happy has to be someone special.”

Jay managed a small smile, despite the weight in his chest. “I will. Soon.” “Good. Now go focus on your game. I’ll be watching." “Love you, Dad,” Jay said softly. “Love you too, son.”

Jay stepped onto the ice with a single-minded focus: win. The rage bubbling inside him from the past few hours made his movements sharp and aggressive. Every stride, every pass, every check was fueled by his anger and frustration. The puck dropped, and the first faceoff was brutal. Jay muscled past his opponent, sending the puck flying toward Heeseung, who immediately began driving it down the rink. Minutes into the game, it became clear to everyone that Jay wasn’t playing with his usual calm control. He slammed into one of the opposing players with a shoulder check that sent the guy sprawling onto the ice. The whistle blew sharply, but Jay barely flinched, skating back into position with a steely glare.

“Jay!” Soobin hissed as they lined up for the next play. “What the hell, man? Pull it back a little!” Jay ignored him. Later, during a scramble near the boards, another player tried to corner him. Jay shoved him off harder than necessary, sending the guy crashing into the plexiglass. The opposing bench erupted, yelling at the refs for a call. The ref blew the whistle and signaled for a penalty. “Two minutes in the box,” the he barked, pointing at Jay. Jay didn’t argue. He skated to the penalty box, sitting down heavily on the bench, his chest heaving. He yanked off his helmet, running a hand through his damp hair. He saw his teammates exchanging worried glances on the bench, CC pacing furiously behind them. Jay leaned his head back onto the wall of the box trying to calm down his breathing. It’s going to be fine. His dad was taking care of it. It’s going to be fine. But at the same time he had to think of you, being alone in your apartment, probably not listening to his advice to not read anything, to turn off your phone and the rage inside his chest bubbled up more than ever before. Back on the ice, the team fought to kill off the penalty, but Jay could barely focus on the game happening around him. His jaw clenched as he stared at the rink, replaying the hateful comments in his mind. His fists tightened as he thought about how powerless he’d felt seeing you scroll through them.

The penalty ended, and Jay burst back onto the ice with even more intensity. He intercepted a pass, speeding toward the goal with laser focus. An opposing defender tried to stop him, and Jay plowed through played the puck to Heesung and Heeseung set the puck into the goal. Just seconds later the first period ended. “What the hell are you doing out there?” the coach snapped, grabbing Jay by the arm when he arrived at the bench. “We don’t need you fouling around, Park. Pull it together or you’re sitting for the rest of the game. I want to see a fair game, no playing dirty or brutally.” Jay didn’t respond, just pulled his arm free and sat heavily on the bench. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, but he didn’t care. When the final whistle blew, the team had won, but his excitement over the win was muted. As they filed back into the locker room, Jay stayed quiet, avoiding the others. He showered quickly, the water doing little to cool his temper. By the time he was back on the bus, his teammates were chatting and laughing, but Jay sat silently, his gaze fixed out the window. All he wanted was to get to you. He needed to see you, you, and figure out what the hell to do next.

You were sprawled out on your living room floor, one hand mindlessly stroking Gracie’s soft fur while your other arm draped over your eyes. The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting stripes of light across the room. Your phone sat next to you, buzzing intermittently with notifications you refused to check. Jay had told you not to look. He’d texted you three times already since leaving, urging you to ignore the comments, to stay offline. But you couldn’t. Gracie let out a soft purr as you scratched behind her ears. You sighed deeply and picked up your phone, opening youtube first. It didn’t take long to find the catalyst for the whole situation. In the vlog you posted yesterday, a brief six-second clip of Jay had made it in. His face wasn’t blurred. Combined with the few Instagram stories you’d posted over the past few weeks of cute cafés and hockey rinks, plus his own post of the two of you hugging after his last game, it was more than enough for people to piece things together. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, someone had leaked pictures from your private spam account. You stared at the photos now flooding your twitter feed, a lump forming in your throat. Pictures of you out on dates, at the weekly movie night at Jays dorm, pictures you took of him cooking and snuggling with Gracie. Your mind raced, trying to figure out who could’ve leaked them. You trusted everyone on that account. Or at least, you thought you did.

You didn’t only get hate. There were supportive comments from your viewers and fans that were happy about you and Jay, of course some of them more and some less. Many speculated that Han and you were a thing, but kept it in private. You could now see why they were thinking that. Apparently you were the only one not thinking that. “God, I’m so over this,” you muttered, dropping your phone onto the floor and rubbing your hands over your face. The harsh buzz of the doorbell startled you, followed by an unmistakable series of rapid, heavy knocks. “Y/N, open up!” Before you could even stand up to open it, Taki was already stepping inside, his face clouded with concern. “Y/N,” he said softly, setting down his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes before coming over to you. “Are you okay?”

You tried for a smile, but it faltered almost immediately. “Not really,” you admitted, sitting up. “But I’m surviving, I guess.” Taki kneeled down next to you and gently pulled you into a hug. “Jay told me to come check on you. He’s worried,” he said, his tone low but comforting. “Well he told Yudai but he isn't here this weekend so Yudai told me and yeah.” You sighed, pulling back and gesturing for him to sit on the couch. “He shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want you worrying too.” “That’s my job as your brother,” he said lightly, flopping down onto the couch and patting the seat next to him. “Now sit and tell me what’s going on.” You hesitated for a moment before joining him, Gracie hopping into your lap the second you sat down. As you scratched behind her ears, the words tumbled out. “It’s a mess, Taki,” you began. “I messed up. I didn’t blur Jay’s face in my vlog, and between that and his post, his… fans figured out we’re dating. And now they hate me for it.”

Taki frowned, his expression softening as he listened. “Why would they hate you? That doesn’t make any sense. Jay seems like a great guy, and you guys look happy together.” You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s the problem, Taki. They think I’m not good enough for him, or that I’m using him for his money or his career. And some of them are just angry that I exist.” He tilted his head, clearly confused. “I don’t get it. Why would they think that?” You hesitated, running your fingers through Gracie’s fur. “Because Jay isn’t just some college hockey player, Taki. He’s already signed with one of the best NHL teams. He has a future most people can only dream about. And his parents? They own this insanely successful company. They’re millionaires. So… yeah, some people don’t like that he’s with me instead of, I don’t know, someone richer or more famous or -” “Someone stupid,” Taki interrupted, cutting you off with a shake of his head. “That’s ridiculous. You’re amazing, Y/N. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot.” His words brought a small smile to your face. “Thanks, Taki. But these people…they think I’m ruining everything for him.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s so stupid,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “It’s not like they even know him. And Jay doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to let other people tell him who he can date.” You shook your head. “He’s not. He’s been so… so amazing through all of this. But I don’t want him to have to deal with this either, you know? He’s already under so much pressure.” Taki studied you for a moment before leaning back, his tone softening. “Look, I don’t know much about this whole fan thing, but I do know one thing - Jay really likes you. That dude makes heart eyes at you every breathing second. And honestly, I think you like him just as much.”

You glanced at him, surprised by his sudden insight. “So,” he continued, a small smile tugging at his lips, “stop worrying about what other people think. The two of you are perfect for each other.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “When did you get so wise?" “I’ve always been wise,” he teased, nudging your shoulder, “Wise enough to go to Yudais party today. And you are coming along!” You groaned, shaking your head. “Taki, I’m really not in the mood.” He grinned, undeterred. “Too bad. Yudai’s letting me come, and Niki’s gonna be there too. You can hang out with us all night if you want. No pressure to talk to anyone else. Just come.” You hesitated, but the earnest look in his eyes made it hard to say no. “Fine,” you relented. He did a celebratory fist bump.

The moment Niki barreled into your apartment, hyped to be allowed to come to a college party and not having to sneak home and being allowed to drink, you knew your night would be more fun than you anticipated. When you stepped into the kitchen, the smell of alcohol and the clinking of glasses greeted you. Taki wasted no time, zeroing in on the lineup of bottles on the counter like a kid in a candy store. “Oh, look at this!” he exclaimed, grabbing a bottle of tequila. “You’re not drinking that straight,” you warned, though your tone lacked its usual sternness. Yudai appeared just then, already buzzed. “Finally! Took you guys long enough. Shots! Let’s go.” Taki and Niki immediately nodded excitedly. You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest as Yudai handed out glasses. “One shot,” you warned the younger two, holding up a finger. “Yeah, yeah,” Taki muttered, clinking his glass against Niki’s and Yudai’s before throwing it back. You took your own shot, the burn of alcohol making you wince slightly. “Another round?” Yudai asked, holding up the bottle, ignoring your protest.

Before you knew it, the four of you were gathered around the beer pong table. Taki and Niki were practically bouncing with excitement, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their enthusiasm. “Y/N, you’re terrible at this,” Taki whined after you completely missed the table. “Careful, or you’re getting water for your next turn,” you shot back, making him laugh. As the game went on, you allowed yourself to let loose a little more. You even took a third? fourth? shot when Yudai passed it to you. Despite your growing haziness, you noticed Niki wobbling slightly as he lined up his next shot. When Yudai handed him another shot, you stepped in. “Okay, that’s enough for you,” you said, plucking the glass from his hand. “Y/N!” Niki groaned, pouting at you. “Nope,” you said firmly. “Water. Now.” Taki, his face already flushed from the alcohol, groaned dramatically. “You’re such a buzzkill.”

“Better a buzzkill than dealing with you puking later,” you retorted, handing them both water bottles from the counter. “Drink these or I’m telling Mom and aunt Aiko. That shut them up quickly, and you felt a small surge of triumph as they grudgingly obeyed. You turned back to the beer pong table, only to freeze when you caught sight of two familiar figures across the room. Felix and Chaeryeong stood by the doorway, their eyes scanning the crowd. Until Felix's gaze landed squarely on you. Your breath hitched. You managed a small, shy wave, but when Felix nudged Chaeryeong and they both started moving toward you, panic set in. You were sure they saw, they knew what was going on and if they came and asked if you were fine, you weren't able to pretend. Not today. “I need some air,” you mumbled to your brothers, pushing off the counter. Before they could protest, you slipped out the back door, the cool night air hitting your face as you tried to steady your breathing. The cool night air hit your face like a slap, and you stumbled slightly as you stepped outside, gripping the railing for support, trying to steady your breathing.

Jay walked into the swim team's house behind Heeseung, Jake, and Beomgyu. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for a party, but you texted him that you are playing babysitter for your brother and his friend and now he had no option but to get dressed for the spring break party. Against his better judgement, he spent the last few hours scrolling through the hateful comments, which had dampened his mood drastically. He barely registered the chatter and the music blasting around him. His gaze was searching for you, eyes scanning the room, dodging drunk students as he made his way deeper into the crowd. He didn’t have to look for long before spotting Felix, who was talking to a couple of people near the kitchen. He noticed Jay almost instantly, and when their eyes met, he gave him a sympathetic, almost understanding look. “Have you seen Y/N?” he asked, his voice tight with concern. Felix nodded, his expression softening. “She was here a few minutes ago, but I think she… kind of fled outside. Jay’s heart clenched at his words. He didn’t waste another second, muttering a quick thanks to Felix before moving toward the backdoor. He spotted you almost immediately. You were leaning against the small shed in the garden, gazing into the dark sky.

Jay made his way over to you, shivering slightly against the cold. He took a step forward, then another, his feet heavy as he approached you. His heart skipped a beat when he softly whispered your name, “Y/N.” You turned toward him at the sound of your name, and for a split second, he caught the flash of recognition in your eyes before they softened with relief. “Jay…”, your voice cracked slightly, but it was enough to make his heart tighten. He crossed the small distance, wrapping his arms around you. “Hi baby. Why are you outside? It’s so cold.”, he asked, his voice quiet against the crown of your hair. You shook your head a little, your lips pressing together as you tried to force a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I just…needed a minute.” Jay nodded. He wasn’t going to push you for details - not yet. He knew you would tell him in your own time. Instead, he pulled back slightly, taking our face into his hands and lightly rested his forehead against yours. “I get it,” he murmured. “You don’t have to explain anything. I just… I needed to see you. Needed to know you were okay.” The tension in your shoulders seemed to ease at his touch, and you let out a small sigh, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I’m just so frustrated, Jay. I can’t even look my friends in the face right, and… everything’s just so much.”

Jay’s hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently massaging the tension there. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You didn’t say anything in response, but he could feel your body relax further in his arms, your chest rising and falling as you leaned into him. “Come inside with me,” he whispered, pulling back just slightly so he could meet your eyes. “We don’t have to go back to the party, but I’m not leaving you out here alone." You hesitated for a moment, your brows furrowed in thought, but then you nodded. “Okay,” you nodded, strengthening your shoulders. “We should probably check on Taki and Niki. I am sure they ignored my warning about snitching to mom and kept drinking.” Jay laughed and led you back inside, the noise of the party growing louder as you stepped into the living room. Drunk students were lingering in the room, laughing, talking, and occasionally yelling over the blaring music. Jay’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted Taki and Niki slumped on a couch, giggling like children as they watched a Mario Kart game unfold on the TV. A group of people had gathered around the players, cheering and shouting encouragement. “There they are,” Jay said, nodding toward the couch. You followed his gaze and laughed softly. “Of course they’d be there.”

Taki spotted you both and immediately waved, his hand flopping dramatically as he almost tipped off the couch. “Y/N! Get over here!” Jay chuckled, steering you toward the duo, his hand never leaving the small of your back. When you reached them, Taki was giggling uncontrollably at Niki’s horrified expression as his kart spun out of control. “Bro, you just drove off Rainbow Road. Again." “Shut up,” Niki muttered, and turned to you, “Y/N save me. I can’t do this. I don’t even have a license yet!” You burst out laughing and softly shoved your brother out of the way so you could sit down on the sofa next to him. Your brother immediately dropped his head onto your lap and giggled again. “How much did you drink, Taki.”, you asked while caressing his hair. He shook his head and protested, he didn’t drink too much! The world isn’t even spinning yet! You just rolled your eyes and signed. Jay chuckled, settling himself on the floor by your legs, his shoulder brushing against your knee. His gaze kept drifting to you. Your gentle touch as you smoothed Taki's hair, the way your lips curved into a tender smile. God, you were beautiful. And when you were like this, soft and sweet and effortlessly loving, he couldn’t help but fall for you even harder. You looked down and caught his eye winking at him. He smiled and focused back onto the TV screen where Yoshi just took another nose dive into space. He felt your long nails slightly scratching along the sensitive skin of his neck and shivered. “Y/N, help me!” Niki groaned dramatically, interrupting your moment by waving his controller in front of your face like it might somehow convince you to help him. You rolled your eyes, your hand still absently moving up and down Jay’s neck. “Niki, you can’t just give up. You gotta power through.” “I am not giving up!” Niki insisted, his tone petulant, and you laughed. “Yes, you are.” You glanced down at Jay, your fingers not stopping. “Jay, save him. He’s apparently incapable of surviving Rainbow Road on his own.” Jay tilted his head to look up at you, grinning. “What do I get if I rescue him?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “My eternal gratitude?” “Not enough,” Jay teased, leaning slightly against your leg. “I’m risking my life here.” “Jayyyy,” Niki groaned, flopping back against the couch.

“Fine, fine.” You nudged Jay gently with your foot and leaned forward, whispering. “How about I make it worth your while in ways Niki doesn’t need to know about?” Jay felt his neck and ears flush red at that comment, but took the controller form Niki’s outstretched hand. “Deal. But if I lose, I’m blaming you for distracting me. You snorted. “You can’t be serious.” Jay looked up at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Dead serious. You’re too pretty. It’s unfair.” A faint blush crept up your cheeks, but you rolled your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “Just play the game, hockey boy.” As Jay took control, the game resumed, and Niki immediately began shouting instructions from beside him. “No, no, don’t take that shortcut! It’s a trap!” Jay ignored him, more or less expertly navigating the twists and turns of the map. He leaned forward, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration.

“See?” he said, glancing up at you for a split second as he rounded a sharp curve and caught up with the other players. Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a challenge, given that Jay was sober while the other players seemed barely capable of walking in a straight line, let alone focusing on the screen and steering a virtual motorbike. “This is how it’s done, Niki.” “Show-off,” you muttered, but you were smiling. “Jealous?” Jay teased, barely dodging a banana peel. “Not at all.” “Uh-huh.” Jay smirked, his confidence growing as he passed another racer. You crossed your arms, pretending to be unimpressed, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “I’ll admit it when you win, not before.” “Challenge accepted,” Jay nodded. As the game progressed, Niki alternated between cheering and groaning, Taki dozed off in your lap, and Jay kept stealing glances at you, his chest swelling with a mix of pride and affection every time he saw you smile. By the time Jay crossed the finish line in fifth place, he threw his hands up in mock victory, turning to you with a triumphant grin. “Hah! Look at that!” You laughed, shaking your head. “Well done babe.” Niki jumped up and almost threw himself into Jays’ arms. “Thank you, Jay. I will always remember this!” He tried giving Jay a kiss, but Jay stopped him and sat him down next to him again, fending off the younger's love. “No worries Niki.”, Jay grabbed the remote again and got ready for the next round. This time the other players decided on playing an easier route, choosing… Bowser's castle? “I’m going to use the bathroom,” you said softly, leaning toward Jay and kissing his head. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He tore his eyes away from the screen. “Are you sure? Should i come along?” You gave him a small smile, nodding, while you carefully moved Takis head, waking him up in the process. “I’m fine, Jay. Promise. I am a big girl.”

Reluctantly, he let you go, watching as you disappeared down the hallway. Turning back to Taki and Niki, he chuckled at the scene in front of him. Niki was now lying on his back on the couch, kicking his feet in mock frustration as he held an empty red Solo cup. “I hate this game! Who invented this stupid road with no sides? I’m suing Nintendo!” “Yeah, good luck with that,” Jay said, smirking as he leaned against the couch, the controller abandoned. Taki squinted at him, his face scrunching in exaggerated concentration. “You… you’re Jay, right? The hockey guy. With the money.” “Yeah, Taki. That’s me,” Jay said, amused. Taki sat up dramatically, pointing a finger at him, though his hand wobbled. “Listen, Jay. I like you. You’re cool.” He paused, his expression turning serious or as serious as a drunk 17-year-old could manage. “But if you hurt Y/N… I’ll kick you in the nuts.” Niki snorted, not even trying to stifle his laughter. Jay burst out laughing, ruffling Taki’s hair. “Duly noted, Taki. I’ll keep that in mind.” “I mean it,” Taki insisted, poking Jay’s chest. “She’s awesome. And you’re, like, just a dude. So don’t screw it up. She can replace you. Easily.” “I won’t,” Jay said, his voice softening. “I promise.” Taki seemed satisfied with that, flopping back against the couch.

After listening to their banter for a few minutes Jay glanced toward the hallway where you had disappeared. You’d been gone for a while now. He stood up, detangling his limbs from Taki and Niki, ignoring their complaints, and headed toward the toilets. As he moved through the crowd, he nearly bumped into Jake, who was coming from the kitchen with a drink in hand. “Whoa, man. Watch it,” Jake said, grinning. “You lose someone?” “Yeah,” Jay muttered, his brows furrowed. “Have you seen Y/N?” Jake tilted his head thoughtfully. “Nope. Did you lose her?” Jay shook his head, scanning the room once more for any sign of you. “She said she was going to the bathroom, but it’s been a while.” “Hmm.” Jake glanced toward the hallway. “Could be a line.” Jay shrugged, though unease prickled at him. “Maybe. I’ll go check upstairs. She likes the bathroom up there better. Fewer drunk people hanging around.” “I’ll come with you.”, Jake nodded and followed Jay, as he navigated through the crowd. As they walked, Jay dodged a group of tipsy girls stumbling into the kitchen, his focus narrowing as they approached the staircase. Jay climbed the stairs, Jake following a step behind. He was halfway to the bathroom door when his steps faltered. There, at the end of the hall, you were standing. Talking to Han.

Jay’s jaw clenched as he stopped in his tracks, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. Han leaned slightly forward, his expression a mix of regret and sadness. You stood across from him, calm and composed, your arms loosely crossed. “I should-” Jay started, stepping toward you, but Jake grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t,” Jake said firmly. Jay turned to glare at him. “Why not? He’s-” “Look,” Jake cut him off, gesturing subtly toward the two of you. “They’re not fighting. She looks fine. And Han looks like a kicked puppy. Let them talk.” Jay hesitated, his fists clenching at his sides. He hated watching you and Han together. Resentment boiled in his chest. Still, he couldn’t ignore Jake’s reasoning. You didn’t look distressed. Your body language wasn’t defensive or angry, just... patient. Whatever was being said, it didn’t seem like it was hurting you.

His eyes snapped up when he saw you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, his face crumpled into a mix of regret and hesitation. “Hi, Han,” you said evenly, even though your heart started racing. You really didn’t want to deal with this now, not when you had a few drinks and he probably had as well. You gave him a polite, tight smile and tried to walk past him, but his hand shot out, gently catching your wrist. “Y/N, wait,” he said, his voice quiet but urgent. You stopped, glancing down at his hand on your arm before meeting his gaze. “What do you want Han?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Can we talk? Please,” he said, his voice tinged with desperation. You hesitated. After a moment, you sighed. “Okay. Talk. Han let go of your wrist, his hand dropping limply to his side. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as he steadied himself. “I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… I’ve been such an idiot. And I hate how things are between us now.” You crossed your arms, staying silent as he struggled to get his words out. There were no things between you. Nothing. Nada. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice soft but heavy with emotion. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment we became friends. And I knew, I knew, you didn’t feel the same way. But I told myself that maybe if I waited long enough, if I was just patient, you’d come around. You’d come to see me as more than your childhood best friend.” Your chest tightened as his words sank in. Since he first met you? That means it would have been more than 8 years at this point. “I know now how stupid that was. Delusional, even,” he continued, his voice growing quieter. “You were never anything but honest with me. You were my friend, and I took that friendship and twisted it into something selfish. I let my feelings fester, and when Jay came into the picture… I lost it. I couldn’t handle it. I thought I’d been waiting for so long, and then he just showed up and…” Han trailed off, his eyes glistening under the dim light. He took another deep breath, his voice cracking as he said, “I hurt you, Y/N. I said things, did things, that I’ll never forgive myself for. And the worst part is, I knew how much I was hurting you in the moment, but I let it happen anyway. I was bitter and jealous, and that’s on me. None of it was your fault. Nothing I said at that party is the truth. I don't think of you like that, I just wanted to hurt you, like you hurt me. Even if you didn’t intent to." Your throat felt tight, but you forced yourself to respond. “Han…” “No, let me finish,” he interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “I need to say this. I need you to know how sorry I am. For everything. For ruining what we had, for making you feel like you couldn’t trust me. I don’t expect you to forgive me - not right now, maybe not ever. But I had to tell you how sorry I am.”

You looked at him, your emotions warring between anger, sadness, and something softer. “Han, I’m not going to pretend this didn’t hurt me,” you said finally, your voice steady but quiet. “You were my best friend. I don’t know if I can forgive you. I don’t even know if I’m ready to try." Han nodded, his expression pained but understanding. “I get it. I do. And if you need space, I’ll give you that. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of never telling you how much I regret all of it. And i don’t want you to avoid the others anymore. They worry Y/N. A lot. If you want me to, I'll stop hanging around them, but please talk to them." Before you could respond, you caught movement over his shoulder. Glancing up, you saw Jay and Jake at the end of the hallway. Jay’s jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on you, while Jake hovered beside him, looking more curious than concerned. Han followed your gaze and turned to look. When he spotted Jay, a bitter smile flickered across his face before fading into something more resigned. He turned back to you, his voice softening. “I’m glad he makes you happy, Y/N. In a way, I couldn’t.” You blinked, unsure of what to say. After a moment, you simply nodded. “Maybe someday we can go back to being friends,” he added, his tone wistful. “Maybe,” you said quietly, offering him a small, tentative smile. As you stepped around Han and headed toward Jay, his hand immediately found yours. His eyes searched yours, concern etched into his features. “What happened?” he asked, his voice low and protective. “Nothing,” you said softly, squeezing his hand and smiling at him. He really made you happy. “He just needed to talk. I’m fine.” Jay didn’t look convinced, but he nodded, brushing his thumb against your hand as he guided you back downstairs.

When the three of you rejoined Jays friends in the kitchen your mind couldn’t stop reeling. Han might not think you were a slut and a gold digger, but apparently many others do and they let you know they do. Every time you open your phone in fact. You found yourself reaching for the nearest drink table, eager for a distraction. You felt Jays gaze on you as you poured yourself a cup of something pink and unidentifiable, but he didn’t stop you, watching carefully instead. The drink wasn’t particularly strong and you couldn’t figure out what you were drinking, but the slight burn of the alcohol was enough for you to set the cup aside again. Getting drunk wasn’t going to help you figure anything out right. You plastered a smile on your face, laughing along when needed, determined to shake off the heaviness from your conversation with Han. “Let’s dance,” you said, taking a sip and tugging at Jays hand. Jay obliged, though his gaze lingered on you, concern etched into his features. The two of you moved with the music, and for a fleeting moment, you almost convinced yourself that the tightness in your chest was fading. It wasn’t. If you were honest it just got worse. The music, the people laughing, the overwhelming smell of sweat, weed and alcohol made you want to scream. Han’s words replayed in your mind. His regret, his confession, the way he said Jay made you happy in a way he couldn’t. You didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Relieved? Angry? All of it mixed together? Jay noticed. Of course he noticed. “Y/N,” he said softly, leaning down so only you could hear him over the music. “Let’s go home.” You blinked up at him, the forced smile slipping from your face. “What? No, I’m fine,” you lied, shaking your head. “I want to stay.” Jay didn’t let go of your hand. His gaze was steady, grounding, as he said, “You’re not fine. Let’s go.” Your chest tightened, and for a second, you wanted to argue. “Okay,” you whispered.

Before leaving, the two of you searched for Taki and Niki, who were both passed out on the couch, tangled in a heap of limbs and half-empty cups. Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get Niki. Can you grab Taki?” It took some effort, but the two of you managed to haul your brother and his friend upstairs to Yudai’s room. Jay carefully laid Niki on the bed while you tucked Taki in beside him, brushing his hair out of his face as he mumbled incoherently in his sleep. You and Jay exchanged a small, exhausted smile before quietly slipping out of the room.

The walk back to your flat was quiet, the cold night air sobering you slightly but doing little to settle the storm in your chest. Jay’s hand was warm and steady around yours, his thumb tracing small circles against your skin. When you finally reached your place, you let out a shaky breath as the door clicked shut behind you. You kicked off your shoes and let yourself fall flat onto your sofa, startling Gracie, who was resting on her bed next to the cushions. Jay watched as you slumped onto the couch. He sat down beside you, close but not too close, waiting for you to speak. For a moment, the room was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the heater kicking on. Then, the words spilled out of you. “I don’t know how to deal with this, Jay,” you started, your voice tight and wavering. “What Han said... God, I don’t even know how to feel about it. He’s been my friend for so long, and I love him. Platonically. But he didn’t. Doesn’t? Oh I don’t know. Looking him in the eyes today-” Your voice cracked, and you shook your head. “It was so hard. I hated it.” Jay’s hand moved to your back, resting there lightly as you continued.

“And my friends…” you continued, your voice rising slightly as the words tumbled out faster. “I can’t even look them in the eyes because I don’t want them to feel like they have to choose between me and Han. I don’t want them to pick sides. I just- I want everything to go back to normal, but it can’t, can it? And then he offers that he could just pull back a bit? To not hang out with them so I can do so? I don’t want him to do that. They are our friends. No matter what the two of us are.” Your breath hitched, and you covered your face with your hands for a moment before dropping them to your lap. “And I just want to stop feeling sad. I want to stop being like this so you don’t have to worry about me all the time. You already have enough on your plate, and I-” “Hey,” Jay interrupted softly, his hand pressing slightly firmer against your back. “Stop. Just stop for a second." You glanced at him, your eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. He met your gaze, his expression filled with so much tenderness it made your chest ache. “I’m glad you told me all of this,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I need to know when things are weighing on you, Y/N. I want to know. You don’t have to bottle it all up, okay?” You nodded slightly, your lips pressing together as you tried to hold back tears. It really was the first time that you’ve told him what's going on you realized. “It’s normal that you feel like shit right now, Y/N. If you weren’t I would be worried even more. If Jake told me he had a crush on me since highschool and then cursed me out I would not leave my room for months, but look at you powering through. I know you don't feel like everything is okay, but give yourself a bit of time. It’s going to be weird and hard for a bit, but at one point you will be laughing about the whole situation.”, he shook his head and moved next to you onto the sofa, slightly adjusting you, so that you were lying in his arms. “And about the social media stuff,” Jay continued, “my dad’s already on it. He has a team of professionals who deal with this kind of thing. They’re going to handle it, and they’ll give you tips on what to do. You don’t have to figure this out on your own. We’ve got it covered.” You blinked, surprised. “Your dad knows?” Jay gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. He wanted to help." You nodded slowly, the weight on your chest easing just a fraction. “You don’t have to solve everything by yourself,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Let me take some of the weight, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

You loved waking up in Jay's arms. He was over more mornings than not so the two of you have built up your own little routine by now. Jay was responsible for breakfast, while you handled the drinks. A iced americano for him and a different drink for you and a bit of milk for Gracie, since you are easily influenced by her pleading meows. Jay scolded you for it everyday, but didn’t stop you. Instead he bought cat milk for her. Simp. His phone buzzed with an incoming call. Jay groaned, lifting his phone from your bedside table to check the caller ID. “It’s Coach Choi.”, he muttered, irritation clear in his voice. Answering the call, Jay’s tone was clipped but polite. “Yeah, Coach? What’s up?” You glanced up at him with a questioning look, but he just gave you a reassuring smile and mouthed, I’ll be okay. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but from the way Jay’s jaw tightened and his fingers paused in your hair, it was clear this wasn’t a casual check-in. “Alright. I’ll be there,” he finally said, ending the call with a heavy sigh. “What’s going on?” you asked, sitting up slightly. “Coach wants me at the rink,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “No idea why, but I have to go.” You frowned but nodded. “Okay.” Jay leaned down to kiss your forehead before grabbing his things. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Park.”, the Coach barked, “Sit.” Jay dropped himself onto one of the benches opposing his Coach. “What the hell is going on with you?” Coach Choi’s voice echoed off the tiled walls. “You think last night was acceptable? Playing like a damn wrecking ball and spending more time in the penalty box than on the ice? The penalty box isn’t where we win games!” Jay opened his mouth to respond, but Coach cut him off with a glare. “You’re the co-captain of this team, Jay. Do you understand what that means? It means you’re supposed to be a role model. Someone the younger guys look up to. You’re supposed to keep your head in the game, set the example - not be the one I have to bench because you can’t control your temper.” Jay clenched his jaw, his fists tightening on his thighs. He wanted to explain, to defend himself, but there was no way to deny that Coach was right. “If you’re distracted by something,” Coach continued, his tone hard but not unkind, “then you need to handle it. Whatever it is- your personal life, girl trouble, social media drama - I don’t care. You leave it at the door. You’re here to play hockey, not let everyone else clean up your mess. The mention of girl trouble made Jay’s stomach twist. He could hear the implication loud and clear. This wasn’t just about his performance; it was about you, about the backlash you were facing and how it was bleeding into his game. “Do you even realize the position you’re in, Park?” Coach’s voice softened slightly, his frustration giving way to something almost like concern. “You’re one of the most talented players we’ve had in years. Your future is right in front of you, but if you keep playing like you did last night, you’re going to ruin it before it even starts.” Jay took a deep breath, his head bowed. “I understand, Coach,” he said quietly. Coach sighed, running a hand over his face. “Good. Because I don’t want to see that kind of performance again. And if there’s something going on - something you need help with - figure it out. Quickly.” The words hit Jay like a slap to the face. He wanted to yell, to argue, but instead, he nodded stiffly. “I’ll do better next time.” Coach studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “See that you do. Ask Jeonghee if you need help with anything regarding that situation with your girl. Dismissed.” As Jay left the rink, his mind was a whirlwind of anger and frustration. He knew the Coach had heard about the social media backlash. But the thought of anyone, even his coach, implying you were a liability made his blood boil. You were the best thing in his life, and anyone who couldn’t see that could go to hell.

“Jay?” you called cautiously. He didn’t answer, instead walking straight over to you, plucking your book from your hands and draping himself over you, his weight pressing you back against the cushions. “Jay!” you laughed, trying to sit up. “What-” He didn’t let you finish. His lips were on your neck, softly feathing it with kisses. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “Jay, wait,” you said between breaths, “what’s going on?” He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his own dark and intense. “I’m just so mad,” he muttered. “At Coach, at the stupid hate, at all of it. But then I come back here, and you’re just… you.” You blinked at him, your heart pounding. “Me?” “You,” he said, pressing another kiss to the side of your neck. “You’re perfect, and I don’t care what anyone else says. I don’t care if I have to fight every coach, every fan, and everyone else who doesn’t get it.” Your hands found his shoulders, slightly pushing him up. “Jay, slow down. What happened?” He sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. “Coach basically told me to get my head in the game or break up with you.” Your breath got caught in your throat. “He said that?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah,” Jay admitted, his voice low. “And I’m not breaking up with you. That’s not even an option.” You felt a wave of emotion crash over you, a mix of anger, gratitude, and love. You cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. “Jay, I’m sorry. This is all my fault.” “Stop,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “None of this is your fault. Don’t ever think that. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, Y/N. Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.” You nodded, your chest tight with emotion. “Okay.” Jay’s forehead rested against yours. “I just can’t stand the thought of anyone making you feel like you’re anything less than amazing.”

Jay’s forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm and steady against your skin. His voice was soft but filled with emotion. “I just can’t stand the thought of anyone making you feel like you’re anything less than amazing.”

His words sent a shiver through you, your heart swelling in your chest. A faint smile tugged at your lips as your hands slid up his shoulders, fingers brushing over the firm lines of his muscles, until they clasped together behind his neck.

“You’re doing a pretty good job of reminding me,” you whispered, your voice light but trembling slightly with emotion.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending warmth cascading through you. His lips brushed lightly over yours, teasing, before he murmured, “Good. Because you deserve to feel that way every second.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that sent your thoughts scattering.

His lips were hot and insistent against yours, moving with a fervent intensity that left you breathless. He kissed you deeply, his tongue teasing and coaxing you in a way that made your knees feel weak, even as you stood firm in his embrace. You responded without hesitation, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging slightly as he deepened the kiss further.

Jay’s hands weren’t idle; they traveled up and down your torso, his touch igniting a trail of warmth that lingered long after his fingers moved. His palms were firm yet gentle as they slid under the hem of the oversized hoodie you were wearing, the rough pads of his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your sides.

When his hands brushed the underside of your bra, you gasped softly against his lips, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. Your chest heaved, your heart racing as you tried to steady yourself.

“Jay,” you whimpered, the sound escaping unbidden as his lips left yours to trail a heated path down your jawline.

He stopped immediately, his movements slowing as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His pupils were blown wide, dark and intense, and the sight of him sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach. His voice was husky and careful, thick with restraint as he asked, “Can I touch you?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, your body alive with anticipation. You met his gaze, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

The way his expression shifted made your breath hitch. This man was going to drive you insane, and you didnt mind it a bit.

You were still asleep on Jay's naked chest when his phone rang. The sound of it being enough to wake you up from your slumber. You opened one of your eyes and squinted at Jay as he stretched towards the bedside table. He glanced at the caller ID and you felt him tense under your hands. “Hey Dad.”, he greeted his father. You pulled up the blanket over your naked bodies a bit more, the thought of his dad made you want to hide any evidence of what you did earlier in the afternoon. “Yes I am with Y/N.”, he said furrowing his eyebrows, listening to his dad again. You strained your ear to understand what his dad was saying but gave up after a few seconds of not being able to decipher any of his words. “Got it,” Jay muttered. “Yeah, I’ll post it right. Thanks for handling this and for helping Y/N.” His dad answered something that made Jay chuckle. “Yes Dad I will…Yes…I will tell mom myself…I love you too.” Jay’s hand was tracing up and down your naked spin under the covers while he seemingly thought about what his dad just told him. After a beat of silence he signed opened his phone again. “Dads team drafted something for us to post. We can post it whenever we want, wherever you feel comfortable posting it.” You swallowed hard, your heart clenching but you nodded. “What does it say?” Jay pulled up the text draft and handed you his phone. “This is what they wrote for me.” You rubbed your eyes a bit and sat up, the blanket pooling around your hip and Jays hands wandered to your waist, caressing it while you read the statement.

“To my fans, followers, and everyone who has shown support throughout my career: I want to address something that’s deeply personal. Over the past few days, I’ve seen behavior I can’t and won’t tolerate. My girlfriend, Y/N, is someone I care deeply about, and she’s been nothing but kind, hardworking, and supportive. She doesn’t deserve the hate or invasion of privacy she’s endured. Let me be clear: if you claim to support me, you’ll respect her. Thank you to those who stand with us. To those who don’t, I don’t need you in my corner. – Jay ” You handed the phone back, your chest tightening with nerves. “And me?” He opened another email, handing you his phone again. “This is what they suggested for you.” “Hello everyone. This is my one and only statement. Harassment, defamation, and invasion of privacy are illegal, and I won’t hesitate to take legal action against anyone involved in such behavior. Sharing pictures of my private instagram account and then spreading lies about my intentions regarding my boyfriend, sending not only me but also him hate is taking it a step too far. Those actions are listed as defamatory and are crimes. My legal team is currently collecting evidence and I will press charges. I will not forgive and will pursue the furthest extent of the law. To those who’ve supported me: I am forever grateful for your love and support. – Y/N” You read the text, your anxiety creeping up with every line. “Since when do I have a legal team.”, you furrowed your eyes and looked at Jay. He shrugged. “I am pretty sure my dads legal team is now also ours?” You looked back onto the phone. “I don’t know, Jay,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What if it makes things worse?”

Jay reached over, taking your hand in his. “It won’t,” he said firmly. “The people who care about you will stand behind you. Fuck the rest. You don’t need those clowns in your life.” You laughed and then nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The fallout was immediate. Comments and DMs flooded your notifications almost the second you posted your statements. You found yourself obsessively refreshing your phone, watching the numbers climb, rereading replies, and letting each one weigh heavier on your chest. It wasn’t until Jay plucked the phone from your hand, turned it off, and tucked it out of reach that you finally stopped. "Enough," he said firmly but gently, guiding you to your feet. "Come on, let’s do something else. Something not even remotely connected to that mess." Jay practically dragged you to the shower, shampooing your hair with so much care you were about to cry. Once you both were dressed and ready to go, he moved to the bookshelf in your bedroom and pulled out a battered copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, its spine cracked and corners softened by your years of love and annotations. He carefully tucked it into his bag along with your sketchbook and markers. You let him take your hand as he led you outside into the crisp March air. The evening was cool and the sun was just beginning to set, painting the horizon in different shades of amber and violet. By the time you reached your destination, darkness had settled in. You looked up, blinking in surprise at the sight of the familiar entryway. The grand double doors of the library loomed before you, its stone facade glowing faintly in the moonlight. “The library?” you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity as Jay pushed open one of the heavy doors and pulled you inside. “Yeah.” He nodded decisively, guiding you through the quiet halls to a small reading nook near one of the towering windows. “You told me you loved sketching here. So do it. I’ll sit here, read, and let you just...draw. Forget everything else.” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you dropped into one of the old, plush chairs in the corner. Jay crouched to unpack the bag, setting your sketchbook and markers into your lap. Then he settled into the chair beside you, flipping open your well-loved copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. For a while, the world narrowed down to the sound of pages turning and the soft scratch of your pen on paper. You let yourself drift, losing track of time until Jay nudged you, gesturing toward the clock. “We should head back,” he said, closing the book and sliding it into his bag. The walk back was quiet, save for the crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant hum of campus life winding down for the evening. You were starting to feel tired, despite the amount of sleep you’d gotten today, and leaned into Jay’s calming presence as the two of you strolled together. Neither of you was in the mood to cook, so you decided to grab something quick from the campus food hall. You were about to pile an arguably excessive amount of kimchi onto your plate when a familiar voice startled you “Y/N!" You turned, finding Felix standing there with a wide grin “Hi, Felix,” you said, smiling back at him. An actual smile, for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Are you alone?” he asked, grabbing a tray for himself. “Uh, no.” You shook your head, motioning toward Jay, who was setting his tray down at a table nearby. “I’m here with Jay. We just spent the day in the library.” “Studying?” Felix asked, his tone mockingly incredulous as he raised an eyebrow. You laughed, nudging his shoulder with your own. “No, you idiot. I was sketching, and Jay was reading.” “Thought so,” he replied with a smirk, loading up his tray with what could only be described as a even more reckless amount of kimchi. “If you’d told me you were studying, I wouldn’t have believed you anyway. No offense.” “None taken,” you teased, shaking your head. Felix glanced around the food hall, nodding toward a familiar table in the corner. “I’m here with some of the others. Wanna join us? Or we could join you?” You hesitated, looking over to where Jay was watching the two of you, his tray already on the table. He smiled at you, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

“I…” You trailed off, turning back to Felix, whose expression had turned a bit awkward. You took a breath, forcing yourself to push past the tension lingering in your chest. “I’d love to. Let me just grab Jay, and we’ll come sit with you. Are you at our usual table?” Felix nodded, motioning toward the familiar corner. “Yeah. Are you sure it’s fine? Han’s there too.” You paused, steadying yourself before answering. “It’s fine,” you said, your voice firmer than you expected. “I can handle it. We can all behave like adults, right?” Felix studied you for a moment, his freckled face softening with relief. “Of course.” “I’m sorry I avoided you all, Lix,” you admitted, setting your tray down on the counter as you rubbed your temples. “I needed to sort my shit out, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you guys.” “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle. He put down his tray down as well and pulled you into a warm hug. You blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears that threatened to well up, and wrapped your arms around him. When you finally separated, Felix gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “Let’s go, yeah? I’ll tell the others you’ll come over and make Chan move away from your seat near the heater.” “Thanks,” you chuckled with a small smile, picking up your tray and heading toward Jay. Jay raised an eyebrow as you approached, his expression curious. “Everything okay?” You nodded, setting your tray down next to his. “Felix invited us to join their table. Would that be okay with you?” “Of course,” Jay said easily, standing and grabbing his tray. He studied you for a second, “Is it fine for you?" “Yes.”, you said with a nod. “Okay then let’s go, sweetheart.” The smile he gave you made your heart flutter.

The two of you made your way to your usual table, where the rest of your friends were already seated. Lia waved you over enthusiastically, scooting her tray aside to make room for you both. “Look who’s here!” Felix announced as you and Jay slid into the seats. Han’s eyes flickered to you briefly, his expression unreadable, before he offered a small nod. “Okay, serious question,” Minho said, leaning back in his chair looking at Jay with narrowed eyes. You noticed Jay tensing up next to you and you were ready to stop Minho when he continued. “Jay, you are a neutral party here. Do you think Changbin has a bubble but yes or no.” You blinked, startled by the abruptness of the question. You were expecting something completely different. Jay snorted, all the tension from his body gone in seconds. “A bubble butt?” “Oh my God,” Lia groaned, covering her face with her hands. “We are not doing this again. Not in front of a stranger.” “We are absolutely doing this again,” Yuna declared. “His girlfriend is reading these books and in one they talk about bubble butts. She claims Binnie has one. He claims he doesn't.”, Seungmin explained, almost uninterested. “He is just doing squats,” Lia argued. “Lots of squats.” “Or implants,” Minho added, his expression completely deadpan.

“Implants?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow as he reached forward to dip his spoon into his food. Bang Chan leaned forward, his tone mock-scolding. “Don’t talk about him like that when Changbin is not here to defend himself.” “Who says I’m not here?” Everyone turned as Changbin appeared, tray in hand, eyebrows raised suspiciously. “What are you saying about me?” “Oh, nothing,” Minho said innocently, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Uh-huh.” Changbin narrowed his eyes, setting his tray down. “Wait. Is this about my butt again?” “No!” Yuna said quickly, though her wide grin said otherwise. “Yes,” Han muttered, earning a shove from Yeji. Changbin groaned, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. I’ve told you guys, I don't have one. I’ll prove it right now if I have to.” “Don’t you dare!” Lia squealed, slapping her hands over her eyes as the table erupted into laughter, while Changbin turned around, his hands on the waistline of his jeans. “Binnie, please,” Minho said through barely-contained snickers. “We’re in public.” The commotion settled, though the lingering giggles and playful teasing rippled through the group. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them bicker and banter.

Not much had changed. But somehow, everything had. You caught yourself studying the way Han laughed at one of Minho’s sarcastic remarks, the tension you’d been carrying toward him softening just a little. Lia and Yeji were laughing about something on Seungmins phone, while Felix, Changbin and Yuna argued over getting ass and hip implants. And then there was Jay, sitting beside you with a quiet smile, watching the whole scene unfold. Maybe he was right. Maybe everything just needed a bit time for grass to grow over.

The end of your spring break arrived faster than you expected, and now you were here, standing in front of an elevator in a sleek, high-rise building in the heart of Seoul. The city buzzed below you, a symphony of car horns and distant chatter that seemed to vibrate in your chest. You clutched the box containing the cake you spent all morning baking tightly, your knuckles white. Jay stood beside you, his hand on the small of your back, while his other held a bouquet of flowers. “Relax,” he murmured, leaning closer. “They’re going to love you." “I’m not worried about that,” you lied, your voice a touch higher than normal. Jay smirked knowingly, his lips brushing your temple. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Before you could argue, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal the penthouse floor. You stepped out hesitantly, glancing down at your shoes and the way they squeaked faintly on the polished marble. Jay's parents had a very expensive taste. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you came to a sudden stop, panic flaring in your chest. “Jay, no,” you whispered, whirling to face him. “We have to turn around. Right now.” “What?” He blinked, his expression caught between amusement and concern. “Jay,” you hissed, gesturing toward the grand double doors at the end of the hall. “I’m not... I can’t do this! I didn’t even-” Before you could spiral further, Jay stepped behind you and gently turned you around by your shoulders, steering you toward the doors. “You’re going to be fine,” he said firmly, though his voice was still soft. “They’re not scary, I promise.” Jay pulled a key card from his pocket and swiped it across the panel. The door beeped softly, and Jay pushed it open, stepping inside. “Come on,” he said, holding it open for you with a grin. You hesitated but stepped in. The air smelled faintly of something delicious and you could hear faint clattering from the kitchen. Jay closed the door behind you and turned to you with a smile. “Shoes off, please,” he said, already bending down to untie his shoes. As soon as he stood upright, Jay took the cake from your hands and cradled it carefully. “Got it,” he said, glancing down at the dessert. “I’ll take this in.” You followed and crouched down, fumbling with the straps of your heels. A cheerful voice called out from deeper in the apartment. “Is that you, Jay?” “Yes it’s us Mom!” he called back, his tone light.

You barely had time to steel yourself before his mom appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Her face lit up when she saw you, her smile warm and welcoming. “Y/N!” she exclaimed, coming forward with open arms, completely ignoring her son. “Hi, Mrs. Park,” you said, bowing slightly. Jay’s mom didn’t hesitate for even a second. She stepped forward and pulled you into a warm, slightly overwhelming hug. “Oh, it’s so good to meet you,” she said, squeezing you gently. You felt your eyes widen, and over her shoulder, you shot Jay a desperate look. Jay, save me. Jay smothered a laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly as he mouthed, You’re fine. When his mom finally pulled back, she took a good look at you, her hands resting lightly on your arms. “You’re even prettier than I imagined,” she said warmly. You managed a shy smile, your cheeks flushing. “T-thank you,” you stammered, holding up the flowers as a distraction. “We brought these for you.”

“Oh, Y/N, these are beautiful! Thank you so much.” she exclaimed, taking the flowers and calling over her shoulder, “Now Jay where are your manners. Bring your girlfriend inside while I get your father.”, she jokingly scolded her son and disappeared again. “Jay.”, you hissed under your breath, glaring at him when the two of you walked past the floor to ceiling high windows with a perfect view of Seouls skyline. “You’re fine,” he whispered back, grinning as he set the cake down on the already decked dinner table. “I’m going to die,” you mumbled, your face buried in your hands. “You’re not dying,” he said, his voice full of amusement. “My mom already loves you.” His hands slid around your waist and he pulled you close to him. You put your arms on his shoulders pouting up at him. “Mhm.”, he said tilting his head, “Pouting won’t save you darling.” Sure. Thanks Jay, for those motivating words. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?”, he quickly pecked you on the lips and then released you from his hold, just in time as his mother came into the dining room holding up a vase for the flowers, her excitement undimmed.

Jay’s dad appeared a moment later, his face lighting up when he saw you. He looked like an older version of Jay, his smile warm and kind. He approached you with open arms, and before you could overthink it, he enveloped you in a hug that was somehow both firm and gentle. “It’s so wonderful to meet you in person,” he said, pulling back to look at you with a smile. You smiled shyly. “It’s wonderful to meet you, too, Mr. Park. And... thank you,” you added, your voice earnest. “For what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “For everything,” you said, glancing down for a moment before meeting his kind eyes again. “For helping when I was dealing with all of that mess online. I know you didn’t have to, but you did, and it meant the world to me. Truly." Jay’s dad waved a hand dismissively, though his expression remained warm. “Of course we helped. We couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. And I’m just glad you’re doing better now.” “Me too,” you said softly, your voice laced with gratitude. His dad smiled, then glanced toward Jay, who was leaning casually against the counter, watching the exchange. There was a glint of mischief in his dad’s eyes as he turned back to you. “You know, you’re the first girl Jay’s ever brought home to meet us.” Your eyes widened slightly, and you glanced at Jay, who immediately straightened, his casual demeanor cracking just a bit.

“Dad,” he said, his voice slightly strained. “He always told us as a teenager that the first girl he’d bring home would be the one he planned to marry.”, his dad said with a chuckle. “Dad!” Jay said, louder this time, his ears turning a distinct shade of red. You blinked, momentarily stunned, before a small laugh escaped you. “Did he really?” you asked, glancing at Jay with a teasing smile. “Oh, he was very adamant about it,” his dad continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Said it every time we asked why he never dated anyone in high school.” Jay groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. “I was a kid,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know what I was talking about.” His mom appeared in the doorway, clearly having overheard. “Well, kid or not, you’ve always been a man of your word,” she said with a knowing smile. You couldn’t help but laugh, though your heart was racing at the implications of what his parents were saying. You glanced at Jay, whose flushed face and shy smile were a far cry from his usual confident self. “Is that true, Jay?” you teased gently, your eyes sparkling. He met your gaze, his cheeks still tinged pink, but there was a steadiness in his eyes that made your breath catch. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice low but sincere. “But I didn’t expect my parents to ambush me with it the first time I brought you here.” His dad laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’re just happy to see you this way, son. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked this content.” Jay gave a small, embarrassed smile but didn’t deny it “Well, now that we’ve embarrassed Jay enough for one evening,” his mom said, stepping forward with a twinkle in her eye, “why don’t we get started with dinner? I hope you like Galbi JJim Y/N.” “I do Mrs. Park.”, you said while sliding into the chair next to Jay, grabbing his hand under the dinner table as his parents started excitedly talking about how they were so glad to meet you. He gave it a slight squeeze.

All feedback and reblogs is welcome ⭑.ᐟ

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love

ᝰ taglist. @firstclassjaylee @50-husbands @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona @jaylvrsworld @xylatox

ᝰ an.Thank you so much for the love on pt. 1 of thise series. I hope you enyjoy this part just as much! I am so sorry to Han for making him an asshole in here :((( I did love writing for Jay and this was about 60k, just them being cute .ᐟ₊ ⊹

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rise-deepseamonster · 9 months ago

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Sorry but imagine ur an academic machine, a top of the class med student. You've managed to be on the college sports team and you're balancing it astounding well given that sports comes with its own bag of drama. Now imagine you have a sibling and they're in a committed relationship with a guy who pisses you off but everyone else is cool with. Just point blank annoyance each time you're in the same room.

And he's the only one you know that can help you with ur math homework.

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #the foxhole court #tfc #tsc #aaron minyard

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inkpetrichor · 4 days ago

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Nasty Dog! | Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

1.- Part one.

masterlist here<3

cw. MDNI. fem! reader. delinquent! reader. use of yn. smoking. cursing. smut. dry humping. dirty talking. power struggle. both you and kuroo are kinda feral. lemme know if i missed anything ;3 wc. 5.6k an. i blame this on sir mix-a-lot and my instagram fyp. enjoy<3 comments are appreciated <3

And when I catch a little kitty lookin', oh, so tough Bring hot water 'cause I might get stuck!

Nekoma wasn't huge, but it wasn't some tiny rundown school either. It wasn't a prestigious rich-kid academy like Fukurodani, but it wasn't a dump. You'd call it perfectly average—just balanced enough to create a decent social jungle. The school had its fair share of quiet nerds, top-ranking students, sports freaks, and, of course, the so-called delinquents, as adults liked to whisper whenever they saw kids with piercings, dyed hair, or a cigarette hanging from their lips.

You? You belonged in the latter category.

Which is why, during lunch break, you and your bestfriend Emi had a cigarette and a canned coffee for lunch, tucked into a secluded corner she'd found and claimed after a teacher caught you smoking behind the gym a week before and threw a fit about it, forcing you to find a better place.

You leaned against the sun-warmed brick, one boot crossed over the other as the late morning light sliced through the cracks between the buildings. The sky was too blue for how shitty the day had started.

"Inukai-sensei scolded you again? What a drag." Emi's voice broke through the idle silence, syrupy with a mix of concern and genuine amusement. She had her eyes closed and face looking up into the sky, bathing in the sun like a happy cat.

You nodded in response.

"Another lecture about skipping class and how I could amount to more and to 'please think of my future' and yeah... The usual." You waved a hand in the air as if you could swat away his voice. Just retelling it made your skin itch with anxiety. You patted your blazer for your cigarettes.

Emi let out a thoughtful hum. And opened her eyes to study you with a tilt of her head.

"Well, he's right. You used to get really good grades in first year..."

You shot her a disgusted look, scrunching your nose.

She laughed, brushing you off. "Hey, I'm just saying. Why waste your time with us anyway? Why don't you listen to Inukai-sensei and get your grades back up?"

"I just don't get the point of chasing 'academic success' All that effort just to end up working in some office that'll suck me dry and bury me under unpaid overtime like the rest of this country?" You scoffed, still patting your pockets. "Bullshit... Where are the fucking things?"

Emi rolled her eyes and reached into your bag, retrieving the familiar box with a practiced flick of her wrist. She stole one for herself, already slipping it between her glossy lips.

Emi was loud, pouty, and wore trouble like lip gloss. Shiny, sweet, and impossible to ignore, she floated through the chaos of Nekoma High with a glossy grin, a one too many questionable friends (one of them being you). The perfect image of a bleach-blonde puppy pretending to run with the big dogs.

But underneath the fake lashes and the too-short skirts, she was pure heart: loyal, messy, a little reckless, and your best friend.

She loved too fast, forgave too easily, and stuck to your side like her life depended on it. In a city full of knives disguised as smiles, Emi was an open wound— raw, real, and stupidly brave. A rare trait in Nekoma. You'd landed more than a few punches to protect her, and you were willing to land many more if it meant she was out of harm.

"You sound like such a snob, Y/N."

You snorted as she handed over the box.

"Thanks, babes," you whispered as you took it form her hands, pulling a cigarette out of the box. "Call me whatever you want. As long as I pass and graduate, the rest is useless." You bit down on the filter of your cigarette, patting your pockets again, this time in search of your lighter.

"Sure, sure. You've gotten enough lectures today. I've got my own problems anyway." Emi sighed, reaching into your left pocket and fishing out the lighter. She lit her own cigarette before handing it to you. You gave her a grateful nod. "Yasuo broke up with me. What's up with that?"

You didn't really hear her. Your lips parted just a little, cigarette hanging forgotten between your lips. Your gaze was already drifting toward something—someone—far more interesting.

Kuroo Tetsurou, striding across the schoolyard.

Broad shoulders, long legs, the kind of posture that said I know exactly who I am. His hair was a wild mess—bedhead in the most deliberate, devastating way, like he'd rolled out of someone else's bed and still looked hotter than anyone had a right to. It was all jagged spikes and volume, practically defying gravity, but somehow it worked for him.

Too well.

Next to him walked a shorter guy with a slouched posture and his eyes glued to his phone. But your eyes? Locked on Kuroo like a heat-seeking missile.

He turned his head slightly, talking to his friend with a lazy grin. You caught a glimpse of sharp, narrow eyes and a grin that looked like trouble. The kind of cocky smile that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and was daring you to think it louder.

Your heartbeat stuttered, then picked up like it was trying to break free from your chest.

Fuck, he was hot.

The kind of hot that made you want to do something reckless. Like ruin your academic record. Or make it better. Or crawl into his lap and ask him to tutor you in anything but math.

Eureka.

"Very cute," you muttered under your breath and lit up the smoke, eyes raking over him like he was your next bad decision wrapped in a school uniform.

(He was.)

Emi's voice rose in protest beside you. "Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

You crushed the flavor capsule between your teeth, a little too hard.

"Who's the hottie? Never seen him before..." you murmured, half to yourself, half to Emi—afraid that if you took your eyes from him, he'd vanish.

Emi's annoyed pout was immediately replaced by a curious squint. "Eh?"

"The tall one, next to the blondie," you pressed with a jerk of your chin in his direction, your body practically leaning forward like gravity itself was pulling you toward him. "You know him?"

Of course she did. Emi knew everyone.

She followed your line of sight—and her face lit up with recognition. "Oh! I do, he's the captain of the volleyball team... Tetsurou! Kuroo Tetsurou. He's in Class 5, I think."

"Kuroo Tetsurou-kun, huh?" You rolled the name over your tongue like candy, savoring every syllable. "Class 5... so hot and smart. I like."

You needed him.

Biblically.

You didn't notice Emi's wide-eyed stare as she put two and two together, looking between you and Kuroo with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

"Wait—seriously? Him?" she spluttered.

You shot her a glare, brows raised.

"Don't get me wrong," she rushed, "he is hot. And he does sports. And he's like, top of his class, I'm pretty sure. Pretty good catch... for a good girl."

You scoffed. "Pfff. Who's the snob now?"

"I'm just saying. I don't think he'd mingle with the likes of us. You could have any of the guys if you wanted."

You made a face like you'd tasted something sour. "The guys have no brains. And even less charm. Brain-eating bacteria would starve up there."

She blinked. "Brain-eating... what?"

You shrugged, lighting your cigarette with a smirk. "Besides, it's the chase that's exciting. He looks like a tough cookie. I like that."

Emi snorted. "Girl, if he's a cookie, you're a box of cheap cigs. You two don't mix."

But you weren't listening anymore.

Your sights were set, your interest fully piqued. Your mind was already spinning a thousand possibilities.

And right now? You wanted Kuroo Tetsurou under you.

Or on top of you.

Or really anywhere he wanted to be. But that was beside the point.

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing on him like a predator sizing up prey.

"Magnetism, honey. Polar opposites attract... sometimes."

You took another drag, eyes back on Emi. "But no pain, no gain. Whaddaya think?"

"I think you're insane," Emi said, laughing, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "But I love it when you get that crazy look in your eyes. It means a shitshow's about to happen."

"Thank you, babes."

"You know it. Always got your back."

"If you need someone dead, you know who to call." You winked, and she rolled her eyes with a smile.

"No new info there." She took her final drag, then ground the cigarette out under her shoe.

She turned back toward Kuroo and his friend. "Okay, but real talk—how're you gonna pull this off? You need a plan."

You mirrored her movement, flicking away your cigarette and pulling a tissue from your blazer pocket to pick it up.

"I'm working on one. Step zero is in motion." You handed her the crumpled tissue. "Pick up your butt or the teachers will know we smoke here now."

"Oh shit, you're right." She bent to grab the butt, mumbling as she moved. "You see? You're smart—Eh? Where are you—"

When she looked up, you were already walking.

Purpose in every step.

The distance between you and him closed with every beat of your heart, Emi's voice fading behind you as she scrambled to catch up. The sun hit your back. The breeze lifted your hair. And in your head?

You were already imagining his hands on your waist, his voice in your ear, the way that smirk might look beneath you.

He looked even taller up close.

Even hotter.

And you needed him like your lungs needed that next hit of nicotine.

The two boys stopped talking, eyes flicking up as you approached.

Kenma scrunched his nose immediately, catching a whiff of cigarette smoke before he could.

You looked up at Kuroo with a tilted head and a smirk.

"What's your name?" you asked, even though you already knew.

Conversation had to start somewhere.

You caught it—a flicker. His pupils dilated. A split-second widening of the eyes before suspicion slammed into place.

Cute.

Kuroo was already analyzing you. Running the odds. He couldn't quite place what your intentions were, but something about the way you looked at him told him it couldn't be anything good. His eyes narrowed, as though trying to peel back the layers of your carefully crafted nonchalance. He didn't trust easily, and people like you... well, you had a way of being unpredictable.

Kuroo knew you, or at least he had heard of you. You were infamous in ways that made most people wary, always getting into fights with girls and boys alike, to the point that more than one person he knew was outright afraid of you. Still, for some reason, the teachers—despite the rebellious streak you wore like armor—seemed to favor you. They kept trying to pull you out of whatever bumpy road you'd decided to drive down, but he couldn't see why.

You were... trouble. Big trouble.

But despite that, there was something undeniably magnetic about you. And damn it, he couldn't help but wonder if it was curiosity or something deeper that had him paying more attention to you than he probably should.

You were also lowkey hot to him—highkey, super pretty. But way too much trouble to pursue.

So, what the hell were you doing right in front of him?

"Kuroo Tetsurou," he answered, tone neutral.

"Nice. I'm—"

"Y/N," he interrupted. "Most people know you."

"Most people know about me." You caught the way Kenma cringed at your words. It made you smile.

There was a moment of silence between you, where you took your sweet time examining his features. His eyes flickered, maybe to keep his cool, maybe to hide the fact that he was intrigued—his eyebrows raised, like saying 'So... what do you want?'

But he was fronting. Freaking out on the inside. Still trying to make sense of you. He wasn't sure if you were about to punch him, kiss him, or just walk away. The worst part? He couldn't figure out which one he hated less.

Your unassuming smile made it hard to read you, but there was something in the way you looked at him he liked. Your eyes looked curious. Like a dog sniffing a possible friend.

Or a prey.

"Would you tutor me?" You saw Kuroo's eyes snap to Emi, whose jaw hit the floor the moment the words left your lips.

He scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, tutor me. My homeroom teacher has been giving me shit about grades, and I'd like to graduate."

He shrugged. "Naturally."

Oh, so he was a smartass.

"Would you?"

"Why me?"

"Aren't you in class 5? That means you're smart."

He wasn't budging. His expression remained unconvinced, the flicker of suspicion in his eyes never fully disappeared. And then there was the look on Emi's face, like she was questioning your sanity. Yeah, that confirmed it—he was right.

This was bullshit. There had to be more to it than just grades.

"I'll pay you."

Both Kenma and Emi looked at you with wide, unblinking eyes. Kuroo's lips curled into a sly smirk.

Now he was really curious.

He leaned in just a little, intrigued. "How much?"

"1000 yen." Emi's eyes almost popped out of her head. Why were you willing to pay him?

"3000 yen." Kenma's face shot to Kuroo, equally shocked. Why was he raising the price?

Your smile grew. Why was this kinda hot?

"Are you trying to scam me, smart boy?"

"Pfft, that's a miscalculation, considering you'll be taking away my study time to help you out."

You raised an eyebrow.

He looked down at you like he didn't regret this conversation anymore.

And you looked up at him like you were about to set his entire world on fire.

"2500." You offered your final bid. His smirk widened.

"Y/N!" Emi whispered in urgency.

"Done."

Your smile grew. "Okay. Thursdays after class."

"After practice," he corrected, voice smooth.

You shrugged. That worked for you.

"Can I go watch?" you teased, flashing a cheeky grin.

"I'd rather not." His smirk deepened as a pout tugged at your lips. That look suited you.

"Fair. See you Thursday, smart boy~" You waved a hand at both of them as you turned to walk away.

Kuroo watched you go, still wearing that crooked grin—but now, there was something else behind it. Interest. Amusement. A flicker of intrigue he hadn't expected to feel on a Monday. You'd crashed into his day like a storm in lip gloss and leather, and now he couldn't stop wondering what the hell you really wanted from him.

Kenma nudged his elbow. "You're actually gonna tutor her?"

"She's paying," he replied, though his gaze was still on your retreating figure. "And she's... interesting."

"Interesting's one word for it," Kenma muttered, unamused.

Meanwhile, Emi was dragging you down the school grounds back to your little corner like you were a possessed doll, whisper-screaming at you in complete disbelief.

"What the actual hell was that?!"

"What?" you said, feigning innocence as you pulled out another cigarette, mostly for effect. "I got a tutor. Aren't you proud of me?"

"You just offered to pay the guy to spend time with you—and called him smart boy, by the way. That was a little cringe."

You exhaled with a grin, smoke curling past your lips. "And he didn't say no."

Emi looked like she wanted to peel her own face off, but she wore a shocked smile.

"You're insane," she whispered, like she couldn't believe you.

But you? You felt electric. Buzzing with adrenaline and reckless possibility.

Being honest, even you couldn't explain what had you this hooked in the first place. It wasn't like you to flirt, let alone sleep around—especially not with some guy you'd just met. You weren't even that experienced, really. Just good at faking it when you had to. You knew how to make guys back off, not draw them in. And you liked it that way—especially with a friend as stupidly pretty as Emi.

Someone had to be the one with teeth.

But the second you laid eyes on Kuroo, something unfamiliar ignited in your chest. Hot. Sharp. Wild. It didn't feel like danger, not exactly—but it burned just the same. And without thinking twice, without looking back, you lunged toward it like instinct. Like hunger.

You weren't chasing chaos for the thrill this time.

You were chasing him.

And there wasn't a single part of you planning to stop.

When Thursday rolled around—and after confirming to Emi three separate times that yes, you were going to pay him, and yes, you were trying to fuck him—you actually paid attention in class. Took notes, too, so you didn't show up to tutoring empty-handed. Half-assed, sure, but it was something. You even waited for him outside school like you said you would.

The spring wind clawed at your jacket as you leaned against the weather-worn "Nekoma Metropolitan High School" sign, flicking ash from your cigarette like you weren't freezing your ass off. Rust crept along the metal edges, and the chain-link fence behind you rattled every time the breeze picked up. You looked every bit the part of a stray dog waiting to be fed—eyes sharp, restless, scanning for the only person you'd follow home.

You caught sight of him leaving the gym, towel slung around his neck, hair damp and a little more tousled than usual from practice. Of course he wasn't alone—Kenma trailed behind, glued to his phone, already scowling once he noticed you.

Kuroo slowed when he saw you, surprise flickering across his face. He clearly hadn't expected you to follow through on your offer, and the corner of his mouth twitched like he couldn't decide whether to be impressed or concerned. But once it was clear you were serious—and once you confirmed the study session was happening at your place—he tossed a quick goodbye over his shoulder and followed you through the alley-strewn veins of Tokyo.

Your apartment complex looked like it had seen better decades. Rusty stairwells, cracked concrete, the faint smell of piss, mildew, and something metallic hanging in the air like a permanent tenant. Neon light from a busted sign across the street flickered through your broken blinds. The building groaned when the wind pushed through its joints, and the elevator had been broken since forever. Kuroo took it all in with that quiet, unreadable look you'd noticed he got sometimes—eyes narrowed, thoughtful.

He didn't say anything. That was somehow worse.

Inside, the place wasn't much better. Cigarette smoke clung to the yellowing walls. A stained countertop, three empty ramen cups, a crumpled paper bag, and a scrawled note waited:

For your tutoring and anything else. I have a fight today. Grandma's at the pachinko. Behave.

It was scrawled in your dad's sloppy, half-illegible handwriting. Kuroo read it, then blinked slowly like he wasn't sure if he was impressed or deeply concerned.

You grabbed the bag, tossing the note into the dented trash bin with a smirk.

"A fight." he muttered, still processing as he followed you down the hall. His gaze drifted around your room like it was offering up pieces of you without permission—band posters, a half-broken fan, a low table in front of a dusty floor TV.

"My dad's a boxer," you explained, toeing off your slippers and throwing your bag onto the bed.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. "And your grandma's a—"

"Pachinko enthusiast," you finished, grin crooked. "So we've got the place to ourselves until at least nine."

You thought he'd get the hint. His Adam's apple bobbed—nervous? Excited? You couldn't tell. But when he sat down cross-legged at your low table and pulled out his books like he was actually here to tutor you, you almost groaned aloud.

"So," he said, pulling a blue folder from his bag, "let's see what you're failing."

"You actually got my report card? That's commitment." you said, raising a brow.

He ignored your teasing as he flipped through the papers. "You're not failing anything, surprisingly. But your chem grades are garbage."

You flopped dramatically onto your bed. "I'm struggling."

"I see that," he muttered, pulling out a notebook. "Come on."

You sat up with a groan and dragged yourself to the table, grabbing a pen. He didn't look at you when you settled beside him, but you caught the slight shift in his posture when your knee bumped his. He cleared his throat and started explaining covalent bonds.

You half-listened. You watched his mouth move instead. His voice was smooth, confident. He was focused, leaning over your textbook, one hand pointing at a diagram, the other scribbling notes with clean, sharp handwriting. He smelled like cheap body spray, shampoo and faint sweat from practice.

Your hand slipped onto his thigh.

"Tetsurou-kun," you said, all syrup and heat, "you can't seriously think you're here to actually study, right?"

He froze. Swallowed. Then, to your shock, lifted his gaze with forced calm. "What am I?" he asked. "Some common whore you're gonna pay to fuck?"

The words cut sharper than you expected. Your smile faltered. You hadn't meant it like that. You weren't sure what you'd meant, actually. Suddently this whole thing felt a little shittier.

Your fingers twitched where they rested against his thigh, but you didn't pull them back.

"N-no," you muttered. "I just—" You exhaled, frustrated. "I didn't think this far ahead, okay?"

He watched you. Read through you. His expression softened a little, the edge in his voice gone. But he still didn't touch you.

You were about to say something else—maybe change the subject, maybe apologize—when he talked again, teasing.

"You actually want to learn this or not?"

You blinked, thrown off. "Huh?"

He held up the notebook. "Chemistry."

You stared at him. Then, grudgingly, nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

You leaned in, this time actually paying attention. Took notes. Bit your lip when he smirked at your compliments and felt your stomach tighten every time he laughed when you cursed at the confusing parts.

"Not gonna lie, you make this sound way easier than the teacher. What the fuck," you grumbled.

He seemed to like the praise, smiling beside you while he continued to explain. His voice settled into your ears like warm honey. When you answered his questions right, he smirked. When you got one wrong, he nudged you with his knee and explained it again, slower this time. You hated that he was good at this. That he made you want to keep going just to see the way his eyes lit up when you understood something.

Eventually, the lesson became background noise. Your focus shifted to the way his knee brushed yours, to the way he stole glances at your thighs like he didn't want to be caught but also didn't care enough to stop. To the way his fingers moved—long, elegant, tapping the page as he talked, not realising he was doing it. His mouth, his voice, his brain—God, this was so much worse than you'd planned. He was actually hot and smart.

You were openly staring at his lips when he finally noticed.

"What?" he asked, brow arching.

"Nothing," you said, leaning back with a slow smirk. "Just wondering how you make covalent bonds sound hot."

That got a laugh, rough and short. But his ears were a little pink.

"Thought you liked ionic bonds more," he teased with a raised brow.

"Don't get me wrong, ionic bonds are cool. Covalent bonds are... hot."

"That's a new one," he said, voice low. "Gonna start rating chemistry terms by sex appeal now? Want me to whisper 'intermolecular forces' next?"

You snorted. "Don't tempt me. I might actually learn something."

"Blasphemy," he said, mock-scandalized. "You learning? In my presence? Next thing I know you'll be asking about valence electrons like you mean it."

You sat up, leaned in, and closed the book between you with a soft thud.

"Okay, I was good. I listened. Took notes. Didn't even flirt for twenty straight minutes." You raised a brow. "Now, when are you gonna stop pretending this is actually about chemistry?"

That wiped the grin off his face—but not entirely. It curved at the corners, wry and knowing. His gaze didn't leave yours. You saw the fraying edges of restraint, the tension vibrating between you.

"Isn't it?" he asked, the words almost gentle.

But his pupils blew wide when they dropped to your lips. You caught it. And still, you didn't move. You weren't about to force it. A single "no" or even a flicker of hesitation from him and you were ready to throw in the towel, swallow your embarrassment for the rest of the session—maybe learn some more chemistry and then avoid him for the rest of your last school year. Hopefully, the rest of your life.

You let the silence hang a beat longer.

"Look..." you exhaled. "I'm not really good at this. I just pretend I am."

That caught him off guard.

He could tell—you were slick, but he was smart. Sharp enough to see through you and that overconfident persona you put on, but he hadn't expected you to admit it. Not like this. Not in your room, with his textbook sitting closed between your thighs. At least, he knew he wouldn't have.

You saw the shift immediately—his breath catching, his posture tightening ever so slightly.

"Huh," he said after a second. "Guess I'm not the only one bluffing their way through this study session."

"So you're saying you don't get turned on by covalent bonds?"

That earned a soft huff. He leaned forward, eyes sharp, voice low.

"Depends. Are you offering to share some electrons, or...?"

You laughed. His hand moved slowly, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear. And when he looked at you this time, it wasn't with that usual playful glint.

It was something raw. Like honesty.

"I like you," you admitted, tilting your head slightly. "But I don't really know what I'm doing."

"Good," he murmured. "Then we're even."

Then, slowly—finally—he leaned in to meet your lips.

Soft at first. Testing. But when you answered back—with a hunger he didn't expect—the leash snapped. His hand slid behind your neck, anchoring you against him as his mouth claimed yours. His tongue licked into your mouth with filthy, unhurried precision, dragging a whimper from your throat.

He kissed like he meant it. No fumbling. No hesitation.

You gasped when he tugged your hair just enough to tilt your head back, and the gasp melted into a moan when his other hand traced up your spine, pulling you closer—guiding you over to sit on his left thigh. Your fingers twisted into his shirt, clutching him like he was the only thing holding you up.

"You're all talk," he muttered against your lips, grinning when you shivered after a well-placed flex of his thigh. "But so am I."

You squeezed your eyes shut—dazed, aching, and a little embarrassed.

"...Shut up," you breathed, your usual sass caught somewhere between your throat and the pounding in your chest.

His smile turned downright wicked. His mouth dragged along your jaw, down your neck. You squirmed, knees bracketing his thigh as his hands slipped under your shirt, palms hot and rough against the bare skin of your back and waist.

"You don't have to act tough," he whispered, voice rough and reverent. "I think I like you more like this. Messy."

His mouth dipped to your collarbone, kissing and biting the sensitive skin. Every nerve in your body lit up.

Your head tilted back to give him more space, heart thudding so hard you thought it might crack your ribs. Your tough-girl act had fully melted now, replaced with the kind of hunger you'd been feeling since the first time you saw him—the kind of hunger you didn't know how to fake.

"God," you gasped. "You're not supposed to be good at this..."

He chuckled low in his throat, kissing a line down your chest. "Top of my class, remember?"

"Smart boy..." you growled—but it came out more like a broken, desperate plea. "If you don't—"

He cut you off with another kiss, deeper, devastating. His hands dragged up your stomach, slow and sure, thumbs brushing the underside of your bra with maddening patience.

You tried to shove him gently back, straddling his lap like you could wrestle some control back—but the second his dark, hungry gaze locked onto yours, you felt your composure crack.

"You sure you're inexperienced?" you asked, trying to tease—but your voice betrayed you, too breathless to land the hit.

He didn't even dignify it with a real answer. Just kissed you again, harder—tongue sweeping into your mouth like he fucking owned it. His hands clutched your hips like he was trying to brand himself into your bones, and after a small, involuntary moan slipped from your throat, you pulled back with a narrowed look, silently demanding a response.

He just shrugged. That maddening, smug little shrug. Like he hadn't just made your whole body tremble.

"I'm a fast learner," he said, trailing his mouth down your throat, voice dropping lower.

A shiver went up your spine as he bit down at your pulse point, and you whimpered, threading your fingers into his messy hair and tugging.

Still, you didn't stop him.

Didn't want to.

This was what you wanted, wasn't it? To see if all that cocky arrogance and big-dick energy were just a front.

And judging by the thick length of him, already hard beneath you and pressing snug under your embarrassingly wet core... You might've bitten off more than you could chew.

Kuroo unbuttoned your shirt slowly, peeled it off your shoulders, and tossed it aside—then paused for just a second.

His gaze was scorching.

Starving. Almost reverent.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathed. "What a pain in the ass."

"Huh? Which one is it?" you whispered, smirking—until his mouth latched onto the top of your breast, sucking hard enough to make you tense a little. It burned in the best way—lingering and possessive.

He unclasped your bra like he'd done it a thousand times, and the second you were bare in front of him, his hands were everywhere—palming your tits, dragging his thumbs over your nipples until they were tight and sensitive. Squeezing. Claiming.

Then his mouth followed.

Hot. Wet. Perfect.

His tongue circled a nipple, then flicked it—slow at first, then rougher—and you arched with a soft, broken moan.

"Oh my god," you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as your hips rolled. "You're dangerous."

He laughed against your skin, biting just enough to make you jolt. "Top of my class," he muttered again—infuriating, smug, hot as hell.

You rocked down harder, grinding against the hard bulge in his pants, and his breath stuttered. He gripped your hips tighter—bruising—guiding your movement with a low, wrecked groan.

"Fuuuck..." he breathed. "Do that again."

You did—and something snapped.

His hands shot down to unzip your skirt, and you let him, lifting your hips so he could drag it off and toss it somewhere on your floor, leaving you in nothing but lace panties. Bare thighs. Wet as hell.

He didn't even strip off his shirt, still fully clothed—his mouth just went right back to you, trailing down your chest with a reverent slowness that made your pulse jackhammer. You felt his lips, his tongue, worshipping every inch like it meant something, while little groans and moans escaped his lips as you rode him over his pants.

His lips were swollen, your skin flushed, legs wrapped around him as he rolled his hips into yours, pressing you harder against his thick cock. His hands moved over your body like he owned it—confident, thorough, maddeningly slow.

And every time you thought you had control, he took it back.

Faster.

Rougher.

More deliberate.

His grip bruised. His tongue fucked into your mouth like he was chasing a high. Your panties were soaked, clinging to your folds, and your clit throbbed with every subtle shift of your hips against him. You didn't even care how obvious it was.

You wanted him. All of him.

Every time you rocked down onto the thick bulge in his pants, you could feel the friction spark—sharp, maddening, electric. The tension inside you built in waves, tightening with each grind, pressure curling low in your belly, spiraling toward something reckless.

You were right on the edge, strung so tight you felt like you'd snap if he so much as exhaled too close.

And the worst part? He was trying to keep quiet. You could feel him trying—holding back. Swallowing grunts. Burying moans against your skin.

But they kept slipping out.

Low, desperate sounds tearing from his throat with each drag of your body against his cock. His breath caught every time you moved—hitching, stuttering, wrecked. You could feel it vibrate in his chest, in his mouth, in the fists he clenched on your hips like he was trying not to beg.

Oh you could only imagine he was a loud fucker.

Those sounds were unraveling you faster than anything else.

And still you kept grinding. Kept chasing the friction.

You were dizzy with it. Hot and wet and aching. So close you could barely breathe.

"Don't stop," you whispered—your voice low, needy. "Just... don't stop."

He froze.

Just for a beat. Just long enough to make your heart lurch.

Then he leaned in, lips ghosting over your throat, collarbone, jawline.

"Oh, I'm not stopping right now," he said, voice rough like a sin. "I'm just choosing when."

You scoffed, tried to grind again—but his grip locked you down, holding you in place like you weighed nothing.

"God, you're..." He cut himself off with a ragged breath as his fingers slipped under the waistband of your panties—just barely. Teasing. "Didn't know you were this fucking greedy."

"I'm not," you argued. "But you are. You're so—fuck—you're cocky."

He laughed—quiet and mean—and you felt it echo through his mouth as it dragged over your bare tits again, tongue leaving wet, hot trails.

"If I keep going..." he murmured, lips ghosting over one aching nipple, "...I'm not going to stop."

You looked down at him, lips parted, chest heaving. "That's not a problem."

But he just stared at you—hungry, calculating. Controlled to a fucking fault.

"You're paying me to tutor you," he said.

Calm. Dangerous. Like a warning—or like a reminder. To you. To himself. Maybe both.

"And you think this is a game."

Your stomach flipped. You didn't know if it was the way he said it—so calm and knowing—or the fact that he was absolutely right.

And then he leaned close, mouth brushing your ear, breath hot and voice fucking lethal.

"I'm not going to fuck you just because you're good at pretending you want me."

Your whole body locked.

Then his hand slid up between your legs, pressing against your clit—hard enough to make your spine curve, but still not enough to finish you.

"I'm going to make you mean it."

You moaned, hips bucking—but before you could chase it, he was already pulling away. Already lifting you off him.

Gone.

Just like that, the warmth of him was gone.

He stood, chest rising and falling, one hand dragging through his hair like he needed air. The other palmed his cock through his pants—thick, straining—not even trying to hide it.

"I'll see you next Thursday," he said, voice maddeningly even. "For chemistry."

Then he smirked.

And walked out.

Left you half-naked, flushed and aching, sitting on the floor of your room.

Ruined.

Fucking prick.

tags. taglist open! let me know in the comments <3

Next chapter↪ (coming soon<3)

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo smut #kuroo x you #haikyuu #hq fanfic #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu smut #haikyuu scenarios #hq #hq fluff #hq smut

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dreamersparacosm · 5 days ago

Text

jeon jungkook - off the record (part two)

part two ; top secret arrangements

warnings ; none! (unless you count oc threatening murder about 293939 times as something that warrants a warning.)

prompt ; in which you’re paired with your insufferably charming ex-academic rival turned coworker to cover a congressional scandal, and suddenly, professional boundaries becomes the only thing holding you two apart.

note ; greetings my loved ones! ah yes, another part that i deliriously edited at 3am bc my corporate job sucks the soul out of me <3 anyways! all your comments on the last part were so sweet and i appreciate every single one of you. MWAH.

this chapter is fun — we learn about oc’s family dynamics, watch her threaten murder a few times, even get to see her ambush an unsuspecting press rep. you guys are oh so lucky to be fed. and you’ll remain full because i just ran the calculations and… next chapter is nearing 15k words

playlist here

series masterlist here

“Have you talked to your boss about your promotion timeline?”

Your mother’s voice crackles through the speaker, overly crisp and awake for this hour. She always sounds like she’s calling you from inside an interrogation room, even though you know she’s sitting at the kitchen counter in her robe, nursing a mug of instant coffee with one slipper half off her foot.

“No,” you sigh, balancing your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you try to zip your pants. “Not this week.”

“You said that last week.”

You groan out some animalistic noise. “Moooom.”

“I’m just saying,” she continues, undeterred by your sound effects, “these things don’t happen unless you advocate. You’re not a college kid anymore. You should be thinking about upward mobility, and your brand.”

She says mobility like she’s delivering some pathetic TED Talk in kitten heels. You make a face at your closet door and tug on a button-down that still smells faintly like the press room.

For all her perfectly cynical practicality, your mother has always reminded you of a bloodhound — relentless, sharp-nosed, and born with an uncanny ability to sniff out fear or any hesitation you try to disguise as composure. She’s the type of woman who taught herself how to file taxes on a borrowed library card and once negotiated a hospital bill down with nothing but a polite smile and the threat of local media.

She’s not cruel. She’s just focused. And being raised by someone like that, someone made entirely of high standards and survival skills, means you learned early that love can sound like a to-do list.

You grew up in a two-bedroom apartment with six feet between the couch and the kitchen. Rent was a monthly feat. Every leftover was frozen, labeled, and scheduled for a future meal. Your parents stretched paychecks like rubber bands and made “making it work” a sport. Maybe it wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest. Your mother didn’t believe in luxury, but she did believe in work and never, ever wasting potential.

So, of course, she calls every week. And evidently, she asks the same question every time.

“Are you working hard?”

You deadpan at your reflection in the mirror as you swipe on concealer. “Always.”

“Are you doing your best?”

The mascara wand in your other hand shakes a little. “Is there any other option?”

There’s a moment of silence. Then, her own exhausted voice: “You sound tired.”

The nerve.

You let out a small laugh. “It’s the White House, Mom. We’re all tired.”

Unimpressed, she hums. “Just don’t let anyone outdo your work.”

“I know that, Mom.” Really, you do. Does she mistake you for some fool with an Ivy League degree?

“We know you do. Quick reminder though.” She references your father quickly. The relationship between them has grown complicated, you’ll be the first to admit it. However, your desire to analyze the ins and outs of two people with avoidant tendencies feels like the last bullet on your list of priorities.

You stare down at your phone like it betrayed you. “How is Dad, by the way?”

“Good.”

Another agonizing second of silence.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and inhale through it. “Cool. Do you need money?”

It comes out sharp, but not unkind. It’s muscle memory at this point.

Ever since you started this job — also coinciding with when your apartment started having more than one window — you’ve asked her this every time she called. Sometimes at the beginning, sometimes at the end, but always without fail.

Do you need money? Are you okay? Do you need anything?

It’s the ritual you’ve carved into every phone call, a breadcrumb of care disguised as annoyance. She never says yes. Always waves you off, tells you she has enough, tells you to save. But asking makes you feel like you’re still doing something. Like you’re still useful.

“I’m fine,” she says now, predictably. “But thank you.”

You press your lips together. Nod to no one. Nearly knock over one of the many awards on your shelf while you shuffle around the bedroom.

Pulling your hair into a low, half-hearted bun, you glance at the time. Shit. Somehow it’s 8:50 AM again and you’ve given more time to this check-in than you wanted.

“Gotta go,” you say, grabbing your press badge and keys. “Talk soon?”

She makes a noise that sounds vaguely like approval.

“Be smart,” she chastises. “Be faster.”

And then, thank God, she’s gone.

You exhale. Look down at your phone. Try not to think about how expectations weigh on you like a slab of concrete.

Whatever. That’s a lot for a Wednesday morning.

By the time you get to work, the humidity has already declared war on your hair, your Celsius is sweating in your hand, and you’re pretty sure the inside of your flats have decided today is the day it slowly starts to detach just to humble you.

You swing into your usual hallway with a nod to the security guard who never remembers your name, badge swinging off your hip like a stressed-out FBI agent in some HBO drama.

Like every morning for the past few months, you find Emma already at her desk, hair twisted up in ponytail, glasses on, earbuds in, typing like the building is on fire and she’s the only one with a hose.

You plop down next to her, all theatrical effort and long-suffering sighs.

Nothing.

It doesn’t even earn you a glance.

“Good morning to you too,” you mutter, unwrapping your breakfast wrap that you snagged on the way in. “In today’s breaking news: the cafeteria is advertising something called ‘Tuscan Bean and Egg Wraps.’ Thoughts and prayers.”

Still nothing.

You lean toward her, waving the food like a white flag. “Do you think ‘Tuscan’ just means they dump a can of white beans into a tortilla and hope for the best?”

Emma blinks, looks up, finally clocking your existence like you’ve materialized out of thin air. She pushes one earbud out and glances at your breakfast. “Do not project your poor food choices onto me before 10 AM.”

“Bold of you to assume this has anything to do with choice.”

She snorts, pushes her glasses higher. “Eat your sad wrap and suffer in silence.”

“You have no empathy.”

“Correct.”

You settle in, taking a bite and immediately regretting it. There’s a faint remnant of bean paste. Why is there bean paste?

Emma’s already halfway through what looks like a policy brief and a media prep outline, and you find yourself watching her out of the corner of your eye. She’s been getting here earlier lately. A little too early. You’ve noticed it; how she’s always already seated when you walk in, coffee half-finished, eyes glued to the screen like the world might fall apart if she looks away.

You could ask her about it.

You want to. You’re good at asking things on paper. Sometimes though, with your friends, it's never the right things. The things that might mean someone has to ask back.

So instead, you pick the safer option.

“So…” you say around a mouthful of regret wrap, “Monroe and Delgado, huh?”

That gets her attention.

Her eyes flick to yours, and for half a second you think you see it. A flicker of something. Interest. Irritation. Annoyance?

“You heard anything else?” You ask casually. Like you weren’t up until 1 AM refreshing Twitter and trying to decode leaked parking lot footage like it was the Zapruder film.

Emma shrugs. “Same as you probably. Everyone’s scrambling. It’s a mess.”

You nod. “Jenna’s losing her mind. She thinks it’s going to blow wider.”

There’s a momentary pause again. God, you’re really starting to hate these silences people in your life keep inflicting upon you. You go back to dissecting your wrap.

Then, Emma muses, “So… you think Jenna’s gonna put you on the press pool?”

You briefly peek over at her. “Probably. She hasn’t said anything official yet, but she made comments the other day.”

Emma blinks. “Like what comments?”

“Wanting to send me since I’m apparently intimidating? Whatever that means in Jenna’s language.”

She hums, eyes flicking back to her screen. “Well. Would make sense.”

“You sound thrilled for me,” You raise an eyebrow.

“I am thrilled,” she says, tone even. “Who wouldn’t want to spend a week attached at the hip to every misogynistic correspondent on the Hill?”

You pause, mid-chew. “I’m choosing to believe that was sarcasm.”

She avoids eye contact. “Believe whatever gets you through the week.”

Leaning back in your squeaky chair, you stare at the ceiling. “If I do get picked, I swear to god I’m packing tranquilizers.”

Emma doesn’t respond right away, just goes back to typing slower now. Subtlety simmers beneath her usual calm, but she masks it well.

You mutter something about needing another energy drink and whether Tuscan Bean Wraps are a sign of punishment, and Emma’s now moved on, two sentences deep into her reply to a senator’s communications rep, hands steady, mouth pressed in a straight line.

Something in your soul feels the need to disturb her peace again.

“I mean, obviously I’m honored or whatever. Yay, journalism. But also.. Jungkook.”

Now that intrigues her. She looks up again, brow raised. “You two gonna kill each other if you get chosen for the press pool again?”

“Unclear. Depends if he tries to mansplain joint bylines again.”

She smiles at that, pearly teeth unveiling themselves. “God, don’t let him outwrite you.”

A scoff leaves your lips, “Please. He’s still mad I beat him in college. He’ll implode before he gives me the last word.”

Emma turns back to her screen, but there’s a fleeting moment in the way she exhales. Not jealousy, really. The kind of thing you’d never catch unless you were looking for it.

You’re not. So you don’t.

You just keep eating your terrible wrap, think about your tasks for the day, and pray to god the lunch options are better than breakfast.

Outside, the city hums with noises through the one tiny window the rest of your team cracked open before you got there.

You’ve always loved Washington.

You came here for the first time when you were fourteen, cramped on a yellow school bus with your debate team and a $20 bill your mom told you not to lose, and it felt like stepping into something cinematic. The marble, the flags, the constant buzz of ambition in the air. Everyone here had somewhere to be and something to prove, and you remember thinking how do I get in?

You weren’t the loudest kid, or the one with the shiniest shoes, but you were intelligent. You had a hunger most people couldn’t see, the kind that made you rewrite arguments three times and memorize congressional committee names like flashcards. You didn’t come from legacy. You didn’t have connections. But that just meant you had to work harder.

Washington never made you feel small, not even when it tried. It made you feel like you could stretch yourself until you became something unignorable.

Which is why, when Jenna breezes into the room like she’s delivering news from Mount Olympus, you sit up just a little straighter.

“Morning, queens,” She sing-songs, coffee in one hand, iced green tea in the other, sunglasses still on despite being very much inside.

Emma perks up immediately. “You’re unusually chipper. Did something explode?”

“Exploded in our favor,” Jenna grins, handing you your coffee without asking your order. She hasn’t asked in over a year. She shows up with the perfect, soul-saving, too-expensive iced oat milk latte situation like a fairy godmother in a tailored pantsuit.

“Be honest,” you begin, eyeing her suspiciously. “You only get like this when someone quits, gets canceled, or calls you brilliant.”

Jenna sips her drink like it’s the blood of her enemies. “Guilty.”

Emma’s chocolate brown eyes widen. “Spill.”

Jenna shrugs off her coat, places her iced green tea down, drapes said jacket on the back of your chair (rude), and leans against your desk with the energy of someone about to ruin your life with a statement.

“There’s movement on Monroe and Delgado,” she clasps her hands together excitedly. “Source confirmation just came in. We’re about to be a few days ahead of the rest of the nation.”

Your stomach tightens, but you keep your face neutral. “That’s great.”

Here it comes.

“It is great,” Jenna nods, popping the lid off her green tea. “Because it means the press pool is going to heat up fast.”

Emma raises an eyebrow. “And who’s going?”

Jenna glances between you both, grins deviously “Oh, her. Obviously.”

Your heart betrays you, skipping a beat with phantom excitement.

“Me?” You point at yourself as if there’s anyone else she could possibly be referring to. Suddenly, the bean and egg wrap taste feels lodged in the back of your throat.

“Who else would I send?”

Emma doesn’t say anything to that at first. Just slumps a little lower in her chair, like her spine suddenly forgot what good posture was. It’s subtle. But if anyone were watching closely — which you aren’t — they’d see it. The slight downturn of her mouth, the way her fingers hover over her keyboard.

“Literally anyone,” you retort immediately. “A well-trained intern. A potted plant. A ghost.”

Emma chokes on her saliva, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

Jenna laughs, although you’re not joking. “Relax. You’re the best we’ve got. Also the only one scary enough to intimidate the other networks out of quoting us without credit.”

Emma’s back is upright again. Mask back on.

“Flattering,” you mutter, taking a long, bitter sip of your iced latte like it’s going to protect you from what’s coming next. “Who else is going?”

You actually know exactly who else is going. The name is flashing across your frontal lobe in neon lights.

Jenna shrugs, like that’s a you problem. “Check the list outside. Should be posted by now.”

“Cool,” you cross your arms over your chest. “Super helpful. Really loving the clarity.”

Jenna taps your desk twice before snatching her green tea off your desk. “I’m gonna go steal someone’s yogurt. Be amazing.”

And then she’s off, gliding through the room like she didn’t just drop a career-altering bomb in your lap.

You sit there in stunned silence for a second, brain buzzing, caffeine doing nothing to calm the impending doom crawling up your spine.

Emma gives you a knowing look.

“Goddamnit,” you murmur. “Fuck me.”

Emma bites back a grin, the screen of her laptop illuminating her features. “You gonna go check the list?”

The list. Ah, yes. It’s been your best friend and your worst enemy. The first time your name appeared on the list, it was your first year working for CNN, and it felt like the puzzle pieces were sliding into place. Now it holds the same kind of excitement for you that someone on death row would probably have for the electric chair.

“I’m gonna pretend it’s not Jungkook and then collapse when it inevitably is.”

“You’re a beacon of resilience,” She places a hand over her heart in mock sympathy.

You stand up anyway, dragging your feet toward the hallway bulletin board where updates are usually tacked up with passive-aggressive thumbtacks and outdated formatting. Half of you is praying it’s not him. The other half already knows it is.

For everything in your life, the universe has taste. And apparently, a vendetta too.

You don’t rush. You walk with purpose, which is basically the same thing except your bun stays in place and you don’t look like a deranged intern sprinting to deliver coffee. You push past a gaggle of hungry correspondents hovering by the board like vultures, shoulder your way around two guys from the Wall Street Journal who once cornered you at a happy hour with “do you think it’s hard being a woman in political journalism?” like it was a pickup line. You sidestep a couple of overachieving interns whispering about embargoes and then, finally — there it is.

The List.

Printed out in 11-point Times New Roman and taped to the hallway bulletin board like a college theater audition call sheet. Which, fine. It might as well be. People are already murmuring behind you, trying to read over your shoulder.

You plant your feet. Press the tip of your nail to the column marked CNN. Drag it slowly down the page.

[Y/N, L/N]

In bold too. Curse the managers who used fonts and bold letters and other keyboard tactics to torture you.

Jenna has never once not picked you. You don’t know why you’re surprised. Your brain tries to say called it, but your stomach flops anyway.

Although your finger stays on CNN, your eyes keep scanning. Past NBC. Past Reuters. Past AP.

You’re not looking, not really, but your body betrays you before your mind can stop it.

Fox News: Jungkook, Jeon

You exhale like someone just unplugged your soul.

“Fuck me sideways.”

Some correspondent looks at you with a bewildered expression at that, but you’re too busy wallowing in self-despair to care.

You stare at his name for a second too long, as if the sheer weight of your gaze will make it disappear. It does not. It remains bold. Centered on the page. Clearly, the universe got bored and decided to make your existence recreationally miserable.

“Of course it’s Jungkook,” You sigh, pressing your forehead lightly against the wall, because humiliation rituals are best served on drywall.

Behind you, someone coughs.

You straighten quickly and pretend you were just squinting at the lighting or something equally embarrassing. Grab your phone out of your back pocket. Snap a photo of the list like it’s evidence in a trial and not your own personal descent into madness.

You know what this means.

Early mornings. Late nights. Shared interviews. Shared documents. Communal air.

You remember the last time you two got picked for the same story, a few months back. You both nearly got escorted out of a press van in Iowa for arguing over whether a quote was technically on or off the record. He kept repeating “just admit I was right” under his breath like it wouldn’t lead to his timely death.

And now here you are. Yet again.

You pivot and walk backwards in the direction of the CNN office, fast enough that your shoes move with intent but slow enough that you don’t draw attention. You pass the Wall Street Journal guys again. One of them winks.

In your dreams, fucker.

Mental curses ricochet through your skull like a smoke alarm — God, no. Please. Just once. Can you catch a break?

Possible strategies start flooding your brain. Maybe you can trade assignments. Fake mono. Throw yourself down the Capitol steps and hope it earns you a leave of absence.

“Oh, don’t look so devastated. I thought you’d be thrilled.”

You whip your head again — there goes your cervical spine — and sure enough, Jungkook is leaned against the wall a few feet away from the bulletin board, arms crossed, sleeves rolled halfway up like he’s starring in some Gap campaign for Congressional Casual. His hair is still damp like he just showered and didn’t bother drying it.

You stare at him like the audacity is physically painful.

“Were you… just waiting there?” You ask, brows amusedly raised.

“I was reading,” he replies, innocence deceitful. “Is that not allowed?”

You glance back at the list. “Slow reader, I presume? Take you that long to sound out your own name?”

“Time flies when you’re visualizing your shared press pool victory.”

You snort. “Please tell me that’s not what you call it in your head.”

“I mean—” he adjusts his position against the wall, slightly coming off it “—it is a victory. Two great minds. One huge story. What kind of snacks do you want me to bring?”

“I will set those snacks on fire.”

His smile is bordering on shit-eating territory now. “You always threaten arson when you’re nervous.”

“And you always mistake disgust for nerves.” Behind him, you glance at the clock. You didn’t really pencil in time for ‘argue with Jungkook’ on your calendar.

Jungkook pushes off the wall and walks closer, casual as if he’s not purposefully entering your personal space bubble like he’s been doing since freshman year.

“Relax,” he says, eyes glinting. “I’m excited. It’s been a while since we’ve been in the same room, working on the same story.”

Not that long, Jeon. You can count the months on your fingers if you really wanted to.

“Well, the last time it happened, you tried to quote me mid-sentence and almost caused a media blackout.”

“Allegedly.”

“You handed a live mic to a source on Capitol Hill and asked if they wanted to ‘clarify the vibe.’” The air quotes you make are condescending at best.

“It was a bold strategy. You have to take risks in this field.”

“You’re a walking liability.”

He smiles like it’s a compliment. “See? I’ve missed this.”

You take a deep inhale through your nose. Do not murder anyone before lunch. You just bought this button-down.

“Look,” you step forward, keeping your voice even, “I don’t care what story you think you’re writing. You stay in your lane, I stay in mine. We don’t sabotage each other, and we make it through this without an ethics investigation. Sound fair?”

Jungkook tilts his head, looking painfully unbothered. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“You’ve said that so many times I’m starting to believe you actually will,” he holds up his hands defensively. “I feel like that’d be hot. You all bloody, with a knife in your hand.”

Your gaze trails down to the tattoos that litter his arm, and you swear he has the sleeve half rolled just to prove no one is going to come and yank it back down for him.

Any color you had drains from your face. “Did I mention you’re deranged?”

He pats your shoulder, the touch searing through you like Satan just came up and personally felt you himself. “Tragically, you’re stuck with me.”

Your eye twitches. “There has to be a loophole. Some kind of clause.”

“Oh, I checked,” he comments brightly. “We’re bonded for at least a month. Like a very sexy journalism duo.”

You stare at him. A remark you hope will be scathing builds up on the tip of your tongue, but you’re interrupted by one of his winks before it can escape.

For the first time all morning, you seriously consider filing for witness protection.

Being in a room like this, with every top correspondent from every major news outlet packed shoulder to shoulder, all of you corralled into neat little rows like Type A livestock, feels less like journalism and more like being a zoo animal in a glass cage.

Everyone’s circling. Microphones are being tested. Cameras blink red.

And at the front of the room, Monroe’s press rep sits like he’s preparing to wrestle an alligator with his bare hands and call it diplomacy.

You’re gripping your notepad so tightly the edges have started to bend into soft curls. The same line has been rewritten three times just to keep your pen moving. Across the aisle, NBC’s political correspondents are arguing in hushed tones over language choices. To your right, a New York Times rep is chewing on his own thumb.

You’ve already rehearsed your questions at least 2,939 times. You know which quote you’re fishing for, which phrasing will work. You’ve triple-sourced the angle, practiced tone variations in the mirror like a lunatic, and cross-checked your questions against Jenna’s latest “make them squirm” rubric.

CNN has always been known for getting answers. They’re the “people’s news.”

You breathe slowly through your nose, eyes flicking from Monroe’s press rep to your legal pad and back again as a Wall Street Journal guy throws out a lukewarm question about committee oversight that gets swatted down with the elegance of a cat batting a fly. A few heads turn. Everyone’s circling the story but no one’s made contact yet.

“Would the congressman like to comment,” another recognizable deep voice says, “on whether Delgado’s trip to Puerto Rico last spring had any overlap with Monroe’s?”

Checkmate.

There’s a sharp inhale somewhere near the Reuters team. Someone else whispers “Jesus Christ.”

Your brain — your brilliant, well-trained, self-controlled brain — short-circuits.

You must have committed a devious crime in a past life. There's no other explanation for why the universe keeps hurting you like this.

That was your question. You’d buried it in your notes as a backup, a longshot, a play you’d pull if the answers were dry and the mood was right. Granted, this time, you did not plant it for him to find somewhere around the Hill.

This one was thought of with his very own brain cells, which somehow concerns you more. How some imbecile with a penis for a brain put together that invasive, probing question.

Jungkook read your angle. Now he’s thrown it into the fire like it was his to begin with (even though, yes, technically it was. Neither here nor there.)

Your hand shoots up so fast you nearly dislocate something.

The rep hasn’t even fully answered yet, but you’re already in motion. Already powered by pure professional rage and something that might be vengeance but might also be the ghost of college you screaming don’t let him win, don’t you dare let him win in the back of your skull.

The moderator acknowledges your hand. So does the rep.

“CNN?” They nod toward you.

You clear your throat, smooth the edge of your shirt with one hand and hold your notepad with the other. “To follow up on that,” you say dryly, “would you say Monroe’s own itinerary during that trip coincided with any other meetings not yet disclosed to the committee?”

You feel Jungkook’s beady eyes imprinting on your back.

The rep stutters. There’s a shuffle of pens moving, papers rustling.

You’re not sure what wins feel like for normal people, but for you, it’s this: a perfect follow-up delivered, a headline taking shape in real time, and Jungkook rows behind you, no longer smiling.

The answer you get is cagey and tactful but relevant. Enough to lead the narrative, to throw red meat to Jenna, to start sketching out the bones of what could be a front-page exclusive. You jot down a few key phrases, underline them, circle the most damning one like it’s a lover’s name in a diary.

You’re glowing a little. Still warm with the righteous satisfaction of a public takedown. The floor is yours, the quote is yours—

“Fox News?”

Your spine stiffens like someone just cracked a ruler across your back.

“Has there been any internal response from the committee regarding Monroe’s travel reimbursements?” he badgers politely. “Or is the team planning to handle that… informally?”

You flip your notepad to a new sheet so fast it’s a miracle you don’t give yourself a paper cut. There’s scribbles and venn diagrams that look like conspiracy boards until you land on your next question.

Hand up.

You could power the city grid with the force of your blood pressure alone.

The moderator blinks. “CNN…?”

The poor rep looks like a human paper straw. Wilting. Already on the verge of folding under the collective pressure of 25 ravenous correspondents. His tie is crooked and eyes are darting like a substitute teacher who knows he’s lost the room.

“Is there concern from the office about the appearance of misconduct regarding campaign funds being used for that trip? Especially in light of the allegations?”

You say it like you’re reading him his Miranda rights.

There’s an overhead light that keeps flickering. A few people scribble messily in notebooks, on post-its. A woman exhales, low but impressed.

The representative gives a forced nod. “We’ll be… issuing a statement later today,” he looks like he’s going to pass out. “We’re confident in our transparency.”

Translation: please stop asking us things.

You don’t admit victory. You just shake your head up and down, jot down statement = stall tactic, and allow yourself two full seconds of pure, undiluted smugness.

But before the moderator can even finish her next breath—

“Would the statement include a projected timeline for releasing that financial report to the public?”

You turn around so fast your chair squeaks. They really need to raise the budget on housekeeping and get chairs that don’t speak to your every movement.

Fucking Jungkook is leaning back in his seat like he’s posing for a campaign ad.

He lifts one hand in a lazy little wave and smiles over at you. Like he didn’t just hijack the pacing of the entire goddamn briefing. Like this is fun for him.

You imagine launching your pen at his face like a dart.

One time, he edited your op-ed with red ink and then smirked while asking if you wanted him to walk you through AP style. This is more dehumanizing than that.

He’s not just competitive. He’s observant. He watches your questions build, your rhythm form, your angles take shape and then undercuts you by milliseconds.

Turning slowly back around in your seat, your teeth grind like a dial-up modem. You write murder is free if you do it with a pen in the corner of your notepad just to calm yourself down.

Behind you, Jungkook clears his throat, essentially his mating call for war. You’ve known him long enough to catch on to even the most subtle of his quirks.

Quite frankly, you’re going to burn him to the ground.

It goes on longer than you’d like it to, though.

Back and forth. Ping. Pong. CNN. Fox. CNN. Fox. CNN. goddamn Jungkook. You.

There’s a strategy you’re both playing at now — nonverbal warfare. If he sees you flinch, smirk, or breathe too obviously, he’ll take it as encouragement.

The New York Times correspondent beside you keeps trying to interject, his hand half-raised in that tentative way journalists get when they’re not sure if they’re about to get obliterated. But every time he opens his mouth, Jungkook’s voice cuts clean across the room like it’s been waiting in a slingshot.

The other guy next to you sighs loudly and mutters something under his breath about “overachieving twenty-somethings.” You don’t acknowledge it. You can’t. You’re too busy jotting down your next question and preparing to strike like the world’s most caffeinated viper.

You prepare to go again — ask about Monroe’s office phone logs from last quarter, fully aware that the phrasing is risky but too good not to use. It lands like a bullseye. The press rep stammers over his own words, a few chuckles surfacing around the room. You bite your cheek to keep from smirking.

Across the aisle, you can taste Jungkook getting ready to respond. Probably some sly dig about his text messages.

You shoot your hand back up because absolutely not.

It’s gotten ridiculous, the two of you fencing with weaponized diction while the rest of the room slowly becomes collateral damage.

By the eighth exchange, someone coughs pointedly. By the ninth, a guy from Politico leans back with crossed arms and full-blown exasperation.

“Maybe…” the moderator says, voice cracking, struggling with the effort of staying professional, “maybe CNN and Fox News aren’t the only outlets in the room today?”

The tension breaks like a needle to a balloon.

Some dude near the back murmurs “thank god.” The New York Times guy next to you raises his hands to the ceiling in silent gratitude, like he’s been rescued from a hostage situation.

There’s a smile that threatens to unleash its full glory onto your face. Your ears catch Jungkook’s laugh across the room. You want to staple his mouth shut.

The pen gets wrapped around your thumb and pointer finger again, and you scribble stop reacting to him, you’re a professional at the bottom of your notepad. Then underline it four times.

The moderator clears her throat. “Alright, uh… Reuters, I believe you had your hand up?”

This is fine. This is normal. This is just another day in the press pool jungle, and if Jungkook thinks he’s winning this war?

He better start taking better notes.

The session wraps not long after the rest of the outlets speak, questions slowly fizzling into half-baked comments, reporters distracted by their own looming deadlines or the promise of free donuts in the next room. Monroe’s rep offers a pathetic and dull closing statement about transparency and continued cooperation, which is ironic considering he’s sweating through his collar.

You’re already grabbing your bag before the word “adjourned” finishes echoing through the room.

Success can only be determined by one person: Jenna. And until she gives you the proverbial thumbs-up (or better yet, a bottle of tequila and the words “great job, babe”), you are in full damage control mode.

You push past a specific breed of reporters, muttering random ‘sorry’s’ while speed-walking with the urgency of a woman who just saw her ex on a Tinder ad. Sometimes, you’ll hide behind the door and wait for the press rep to walk by to badger them for any last comments, but not today.

You make it about twelve feet down the hall before you hear it.

A cough.

That very specific throat clearing that says hey bestie, remember me? The bane of your existence?

There is a stupid, traitorous whiff of cologne wafting into your nostrils right about now. Woody. Warm. Expensive in the way that only someone with emotional detachment issues could pull off. You’ve never known the name of the cologne, but you know what it smells like: ego.

“I swear to god, Jeon, if you try to do a post-game wrap-up—”

“That was fun,” Jungkook interrupts, matching your stride and appearing beside you like a thief in the night. “Really took me back.”

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of your head. “To what? The last time you tried to steal a quote and nearly caused an internal investigation?”

He shrugs. “To simpler times. You, me, the scrawny dude up there sweating bullets. Felt like college all over again.”

“You mean where you coasted off other people’s research and called it collaboration?” you clarify.

He gasps, mock offended. “I offered to footnote you.”

You stop walking, hold your ground. “Footnote me?”

Now that you're standing there under the lights that make anyone look horribly pale but, regrettably, work wonders for his alabaster skin, you take in his appearance.

He catches your gaze, “Like, ‘[L/N], et al.’ It had a nice ring to it.”

Your mouth opens — possibly to insult him, possibly to commit verbal homicide — but before you can say anything, the sound of approaching footsteps cuts through the corridor.

You squint in unison with Jungkook, twisting your head to see who possibly would dare to interrupt the two of you. You two uphold an unfortunate reputation on the Hill at this point.

Sadly, it’s the rep from the press pool. Jogging. Actually, it’s more like sprinting toward the two of you, tie askew, phone in hand like he’s about to drop breaking news and/or collapse.

Jungkook leans into you, whispers under his breath, “Oh no. He’s doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where they chase us down because we either scared them or accidentally got too good of a quote and we need to redact it.”

You glance at him. He’s oddly close to you, past the imaginary no-no square you’ve put up two feet within your body. There’s a faint scar you’ve never noticed on his right cheek.

And then you quickly snap back to peer at the rep, who’s panting now, almost there, waving his hand like an unpaid intern trying to stop a runaway bus.

You grimace at this man’s appearance. “Goddamnit.”

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook adjusts his sleeve, tone calm. “If it’s about me, just deny everything. If it’s about you, I’ll deny everything and throw in some fake tears for flair.”

You side-eye him. “You don’t even have tear ducts.”

“I have range.”

The press rep skids to a stop in front of you both, chest heaving, face that same color of chalk that the hallway lighting bestows upon pathetic people.

For some reason, you’re already bracing yourself for whatever act two of this absolute circus is about to be.

He’s got that “once interned for a senator, now drinks four Red Bulls before noon” vibe. Mid-30s, maybe? Hard to tell. Balding slightly. His face is trying to look calm and in control, but his body is screaming “I am being hunted by scandal.”

“Hi,” he exhales, clearly winded. “Sorry—hi. Yes. Hello.”

Naturally, Jungkook offers him a charming little nod, hands in his pockets like he’s not actively considering setting this man’s tie on fire.

The rep straightens his blazer (badly), pats his front pocket like he’s making sure his wallet is still there, and finally extends a clammy hand to no one in particular.

“I’m Mark. With Monroe’s team.”

His voice is wheezy, but trying.

You don’t take the hand and Jungkook doesn’t either. It kind of lingers there, awkwardly floating mid-air.

“Right,” you say after a beat, nodding stiffly. “And you… sprinted here because?”

Mark chuckles nervously, wipes his hand on his slacks. You’re starting to think it’s his first day on the job. Poor dude. Does he know there’s still time to escape?

“Just wanted to, uh, confirm,” he gulps, glancing between the two of you. “You’re the press reps? For CNN and Fox?”

Tentatively, you show signs of agreement. Jungkook, because he’s a show-off, salutes.

You’re standing there thinking: who the fuck is this guy, really? If you had to put money on it, your guess is some overpaid puppet with a job title like ‘Special Communications Liaison to the Chief of Staff.’ Probably thinks he’s the next Olivia Pope. You see the scuffed shoes, the fraying cuff on his blazer, the desperate gleam in his eyes. This guy’s not the mastermind.

He’s a chess piece. You want Monroe.

Mark lowers his voice like he’s about to hand you the nuclear codes locked in the Oval Office. “So… just between us, okay?”

You arch a brow, interest piqued.

Jungkook blinks, arms crossed. If this was Halloween, you two would be pulling off an honest interpretation of Bonnie and Clyde. “Is this off the record or…?”

“No! Well.. technically no,” Mark scratches the back of his neck. “But, like, also… you know.”

You do not, in fact, know.

“Right,” your voice is flat. “Very clear. Continue.”

Mark leans in, glancing over his shoulder like the ghost of Monroe might apparate in this very hallway.

“This thing,” he gestures vaguely as if the scandal is floating above you, “it’s messy. We’re trying to get ahead of it. We think it’s important that the public sees this the right way. Context is necessary. It’s.,, nuanced.”

Context. Nuance. Hmph. All words you equate with overachieving reps who are doing anything to keep the rumors afloat.

You fight the urge to pull out your recorder and hit play with your middle finger.

He keeps going. “And obviously, CNN and Fox… massive reach. Opposite ends of the aisle. But you kind of… shape the public opinion.”

You exchange a glance with Jungkook, who looks vaguely amused, like someone just asked him if he wanted to share his Netflix password.

“Get to the point,” you motion with your hand.

Mark nods, like he’s been waiting for your permission. “We want you two to help us tell the story.”

The ghost of Monroe may have actually possessed his body. There’s no other explanation for this.

A snort escapes your body. A real life snort. “Oh, nice try, buddy.”

Jungkook tilts his head at him. “I’m sorry, are you trying to pitch us a collab piece?”

“I’m sorry,” you add, “did you just chase us down the hallway to ask us to… team up and play Monroe’s PR Barbie?”

Mark flinches. “It’s not like that,” he insists. “We just think, if you two handle this with balance, with neutrality—”

“Neutrally report your version of events,” you clarify.

“Exactly.”

What the fuck is happening? you ask yourself silently. Your mind is still completely, absolutely blank with nothing but insults and denials loading into your brain in a single-file line. “Do we get stickers afterward?”

Jungkook turns toward you. “Maybe matching tote bags. ‘I survived a government scandal and all I got was fired.’”

Mark’s eyes are doing this twitchy thing now, scanning between the two of you like he’s starting to regret every decision that led him here. “We’re just saying… you’re already on it. We know you’re both on it. We’re just… trying to offer cooperation. A foot in the door. We’re hoping to help shape the conversation before it spirals.”

You look at Jungkook again, and for a flicker of a second, your eyes glimmer in that weird, quiet way they do when something actually is serious.

‘Mark’ is right. This is them trying to control the damage, trying to spin you both into pawns.

You didn’t claw your way from a rent-controlled walk-up in New York City to regurgitate talking points from a man who’s probably laundering donor funds through his third wife’s consulting firm.

You spin back to Mark.

“Thanks,” your voice is sugar-sweet. “But if we wanted to write her story, we’d be working for her team.”

Mark’s lip twitches. “So… that’s a no?”

Jungkook gives him a polite, diplomatic smile. “We’ll be in touch if anything changes.”

Code for: if our editors call us stupid, we might pick up the phone and beg you for a second chance.

You both walk off into the abyss of the hallway without another word. The shared satisfaction of a very well-executed fuck off lingers in the air. Honestly, you’re a little proud and surprised by Jungkook’s actions; for once, the man isn’t trying to pull the rug out from under your feet. He is choosing to deny a leg up on the competition, a—

“Wait! I have something you want!”

You and Jungkook halt mid-step.

Like the ghost of Monroe has returned to haunt you, you both whip around in unison. The hallway lights sparkle off Jungkook’s silver watch as he adjusts his cufflink. You fold your arms over your chest because if you don’t anchor yourself, you might actually sprint back and shake the answer out of Mark yourself.

Mark, for his part, looks like he wasn’t expecting that to work. He steadies himself, then offers a sheepish, almost triumphant smile. “I wasn’t finished.”

“I don’t know. Sounds pretty done to me.” Take a hint, Mark.

But he’s barreling towards you again, straightening his blazer like it makes him more credible, “Monroe. She’s been… cautious about this. About the media. But if the two of you together handle it…”

You frown. “What does that mean? Handle it how?”

“You want a puff piece?” Jungkook mirrors your current position, beefy arms crossed over his chest.

“No. Not a puff piece,” Mark refutes quickly, “I told you, we want neutrality. Credibility. That’s what the public needs.”

What the public needs and wants is an article with the likes of a Korean drama.

You narrow your eyes. “Cut to the chase”

Mark hesitates, then puffs out his chest. “She’ll talk. Off the record at first, but open to recording if she feels she can trust you. But only if you two do it together.”

The words drop at your feet, fall below the building, plant themselves in the dirt.

You go unresponsive. Hands fall to your sides. You swear the hands of the clock on the wall nearest to you stop ticking.

For the first time in a long time, you have been rendered utterly and completely speechless.

“Monroe will speak,” Jungkook enunciates slowly, as if trying to confirm that Mark hasn’t just had a stroke. “To us. Together..?”

Mark nods like a broken bobblehead. “Only to you two. It’s optics, if you think about it. It keeps her from looking like she’s hand-feeding one party.”

Your stomach churns, all giddy and horrified at the same time.

Oh, god.

This is the story.

This is exclusive access to the eye of the storm, a one-on-one with a political figure who’s been dodging cameras like they’re carrying the plague. This is headline-making, career-elevating, promotion-sending-you-to-the-moon type shit.

You actually might faint.

Then it all comes crashing down like Jenga blocks toppling over after a five-year old pulls out the middle one on purpose.

The catch. You… Jungkook… same room. For an extended period of time. Trying to extract intel while also trying not to throw a chair at his face.

You glance sideways, and of course he looks unbothered. No, ctrl, alt, delete that. He looks excited. Like he just got picked for the varsity team again and fully intends to score the winning goal.

His jaw tightens, the smallest flicker of hunger flashing in his eyes. He wants the story.

You know that look. You’ve worn it. Slept in it. Shaped your entire career around it.

For a brief second, you hear Jenna’s voice in your head. You hear her saying “great job,” hear the “we would love to offer you the position of Senior Correspondent.”

You’re entirely certain Jungkook wants the intel, and the promotion.

Honestly?

Fuck it. So do you.

“Fine,” you agree, stepping forward. You hold your hand out toward Mark. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Mark exhales like he’s been holding his breath for six years. He shakes your hand then turns to Jungkook, who gives a little half-smile and nods like, well, this should be fun.

You peer at the two of them. Under your breath, you mutter mostly to yourself, “I’m going to regret this.”

And beside you, Jungkook beams ear to ear. “I know.”

You’re not entirely sure this is a good idea.

Scratch that. You’re very sure this is a terrible idea.

You can already envision it: Jungkook slowly rotating in his chair mid-interview like a comic book villain, trying to slip cyanide into your iced coffee while simultaneously plagiarizing your closing paragraph. He’ll flash that dumb, media-trained smile, quote Monroe’s confession word-for-word, and beat you to publication by six minutes and forty three seconds.

But two things are true.

One: you are not about to sabotage your chance to get firsthand information out of Monroe — the kind of scoop that makes editors salivate and might get you an actual door to your office instead of a desk by the printer.

And two: you’re playing to win.

And you’ll be damned if you lose to Jungkook.

masterlist + ask

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