#but it IS something that makes me feel tired lol

[sunasbabie]

little something for the birthday boy, also i haven't written in over 3 years LOL

it’s the 24th of january and it’s been 5 days since your boyfriend left for an away game, 5 days too long. you were never one to complain whenever rintaro went on away games, you understood that it was part of his job and you knew that even then when the two of you were both teenagers just figuring out your feelings for each other, but now that you’re together and used to seeing each other every day, it’s harder being away from him. especially when you want to spend his birthday with him and not just over the phone.

“how was the game today” you asked as you sat on the couch where you and your boyfriend would usually sit and catch up on shows you missed or movies you’ve been wanting to watch.

“it was a tight game babe, just like you” he chuckled “but we won”.

after knowing him for so long you’ve gotten used to how your boyfriend responds to things, you couldn't help but roll your eyes in response. he’s always been like this, always trying to make stupid jokes, you’d never admit it but it makes you smile everytime, even if they’re stupid.

“you’re so stupid” you stood up and walked towards the window, “i’m glad you guys won”

“yeah, i’m really tired though, can’t want to get home and lay in bed with you”

“i miss you rin” you couldn’t help but say the truth, you’ve never been one to not tell rin you’ve missed him or that you love him. that’s just how you’ve always been with him and that’s one of the reasons why he fell in love with you.

rin smiled to himself upon hearing you say that, of course he knew that but hearing you say that you’ve missed him makes him happy, “i miss you too baby, don’t worry i’ll be home on the 26th”

you frown upon hearing his response, you wanted to spend his birthday with him but apparently this year you couldn’t cause he was out of town.

“aww so you won’t be here for your birthday?” you pouted as if he could see your face right now

“no i won’t, but i’m free the entire day when i get back, we can do something then”

“okay, no complaining about being tired okay cause i’ve got something planned” you grip your phone, excited at the thought of seeing rin in two days and spending the whole day with him after not seeing him for almost a week.

rintaro smiles at the sound of excitement in your voice “don’t worry, i won’t”

“great, i’ll see you in 2 days rin. i love you.”

“i love you, i can’t wait to see you”

and with that you hung up the phone and started to plan rin’s birthday.

—

it was around 12:30am when you heard the locks of your apartment door turning, thinking that someone was trying to break into your apartment. you grabbed the nearest thing that you could swing at the person to hurt them, which was strangely a frying pan.

you walked closer to the door and when the door swung open you saw your boyfriend carrying all his bags walk through the door. you relax and lower the pan and put it on the couch.

you ran up to rintaro, hugging him by the waist, “what the hell rintaro you scared me, you said you’d be home on the 26th? what are you doing here” you looked up at him,seeing his face for the first time in a while and missing him.

he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you back, “i got on the last train going home, i missed you and couldn’t wait” he explained as he hugged you tighter.

you hold on to him for a little longer before moving your hands to his shoulders as you stand on your toes, leaning in to kiss him. you felt him kiss you back, you pulled away but stayed close his face before whispering “happy birthday rin, i love you” before leaning in and giving him another kiss.

"i love you" rintaro couldn’t think of getting anything better for his birthday, after all he’s got all he’s ever wanted. you.

[minswriting]

Colds and Cuddles - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

About: You get a cold while your boyfriend is out on a case. And when he gets back, he takes care of you.

Warnings: none! this is purely self indulgent though as i’m suffering from a cold and want to be babied by aaron hotchner. this is pure fluff. i’m not the greatest at writing comfort/fluff (as i need to practice it more lol) so i’d love to hear your guys’ feedback!!

Word Count: 1k

When Aaron had left for work two days prior, he could tell something was off with you. You seemed more lethargic than usual and ran down. But you had pushed through it, likely not experiencing symptoms at that point. When you had texted him the next day exclaiming you didn’t feel well, Aaron wasn’t surprised. He knew when someone was coming down with a cold. Being a father, Jack was a living petri dish and Aaron was accustomed to the colds and other sickness that came with that fact.

He came home from the case with his go bag in hand and a bag from the store. He had stopped at the pharmacy before coming home, ensuring that you had medicine as well as a few other things. As Aaron walked through the apartment door, he saw you on the couch, bundled in a blanket with the TV on as you watched some comedy show.

“Honey, I’m home,” Aaron exclaimed as he hung up his jacket.

“Yay,” came your hoarse and exhausted voice as you stood up from the couch. You were about to walk over to Aaron to greet him but he was already over to you before you could.

Aaron looked at you, taking in your appearance. Your hair was disheveled, your eyes were sunken with bags underneath them. Your nose was red from irritation. Aaron couldn’t help but feel for you. Colds really sucked. He tucked a strand of hair out of your face before checking your temperature with his wrist. You were certainly heating up. “Have you taken anything?” He asked softly.

When you shook your head no, Aaron frowned. “I’ve been too tired to go look at what we have,” you croaked out. Your voice was so hoarse and nasally.

Aaron hummed in response, caressing your cheek lovingly. He then opened the bag he was holding in his other hand, taking out the things he bought. “Luckily enough,” he began, grabbing the items. “I bought some stuff on my way home.” He pulled out a bottle of acetaminophen and something to break up mucus. “Reid told me what is best with colds. Apparently, cold medicines are a fluke because they're not full doses of what you actually need.” Aaron’s voice was soft as he spoke, a quirk in his lip as he quoted his genius agent.

You couldn’t help the small but tired smile on your lips as Aaron spoke. He was known for being so stoic, so stuck up and authoritative when he was at work. But with you? He was a complete softy. And you adored it. “What else did you get?” You asked.

“Some cough drops, vicks vapor rub,” Aaron replied, pulling out the items and placing them on the coffee table. He reached into the bag for the last item, pulling out a package of your favorite snack. “Thought you may need something joyful if your throat allows you to swallow.”

You grinned, looking at Aaron. “Thank you,” you said softly. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. You just got home from a case. You, too, should rest.”

Aaron shook his head, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I can’t rest without making sure you’re taken care of, sweetheart,” he exclaimed, kissing your forehead again. “Now sit down. Have you eaten today?” You obeyed, sitting down on the couch.

When you shook your head once more, Aaron sighed. He should’ve known that you hadn’t. If you were too tired to look for medicines, then you were likely too tired to make yourself food as well.

“I’ll make you something,” He said softly, looking down at you as he towered over you. He reached down to caress your cheek once more.

“You really don’t have to-“ You tried to tell him no. But Aaron was quick to interrupt you.

“Let me take care of you,” He said firmly. “You’re sick and I wasn’t here to help you. Let me help you now. I’ll rest once you’ve eaten and taken medicine.”

And who were you to say no?

So Aaron went to the kitchen and made you soup. Aaron didn’t cook often. Not because he didn’t know how to but simply because his job didn’t allow him the time to do so. But whenever he did, it was always delicious. After thirty minutes in the kitchen, Aaron came back out to the living room with a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup for you to eat. And you made sure to eat at least most of it.

Not much was spoken between the two of you as Aaron took care of you. He gave you the medicine, giving you a glass of water to take it. After that, he disappeared to the bedroom for a few minutes before coming out in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, a vast difference from the thousand dollar suit he was wearing a bit ago.

Aaron took a seat on the couch next to you, putting an arm around your blanketed shoulders. “Do you need anything else?” He murmured, leaning his head on top of yours as he pulled you closer to him.

“Just you.” You replied softly, snuggling into Aaron’s side. Aaron smiled softly at you, putting a finger underneath your chin and kissing your lips softly. When he pulled away, you frowned. “I’m going to get you sick,” You said, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I don’t really care,” Aaron said, kissing your lips again. “Let’s get you to bed.” He said, pulling away to stand up. He reached out for your hand.

The two of you went to the bedroom, lying down on the bed. You got yourself comfortable, snuggling under the comforter. Aaron followed suit, getting under the comforter and wrapping his arms around you. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the room filled with the small sounds of your congested snores. The sound lulled Aaron to sleep, allowing him to finally rest.

And a few days later when you were feeling better, Aaron began to feel the coming of a cold and you were there to take care of him too.

[fear-is-truth]

how about the evans and how they react if they’re having a hard time with getting hard one night for some reason lol

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans… having trouble gettin’ it up .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ james patrick march ‧ kai anderson | content warning: mention of murder

a/n: i love your mind. love it

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

insecure as hell. tate would immediately spiral if he couldn’t get hard, thinking it’s a reflection of his feelings toward you or that he’s not good enough. he’d probably blame it on something else entirely—like his antidepressants (which he’s not even on, but he’s a liar lol).

would shut down or get defensive, saying things like, “it’s not you, inswear, i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” he’s terrified that you’ll think he’s not attracted to you anymore or that it means he’s not invested in the relationship.

the reassurance you’d have to give him would be important to make him feel like it’s okay and not a big deal. tate would probably even apologise multiple times, thinking it’s somehow his fault, but deep down, he just needs to hear that you understand.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit would handle it with humour. he’d try to make light of the situation, brushing off his embarrassment with a joke like, “guess this is a sign i should quit smoking, huh?” or “maybe i need more sleep, i’ve been working way too much.” he’d definitely avoid making a big deal out of it, trying to keep the mood light so you don’t feel like it’s uncomfortable.

even when he’s joking, he’d quickly follow it up with something like, “it’s not you suga’. i’m just tired, is all. let’s just relax, yeah?”

would definitely want to get physically close again without any pressure. he’d suggest cuddling or doing something non-sexual to remind you that he’s still connected to you and cares, even if things aren’t going exactly as planned in the bedroom. :,)

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

why do i feel like he’d murder someone to get hard.

james is a man of action. in his mind, everything can be fixed with a little… bloodshed. “perhaps all i need is a little inspiration,” he’d purr, already reaching for his gloves and heading to find an unfortunate victim. he’d return looking way too pleased with himself, claiming he felt “rejuvenated” (because what’s better than committing a crime of passion to reignite the passion?).

he’d turn it into a twisted declaration of love. somehow, this would all end with him professing his undying devotion to you. “what is my pride, my soul, if it means pleasing you?” (completely glossing over the fact that his coping mechanism just involved committing homicide.)

“you do inspire me, my love. it seems my earlier lapse has been remedied—shall we?” because, ofc, in true james fashion, he has to make it theatrical.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

if kai couldn’t get hard, his ego would take a serious hit, and he wouldn’t handle it well. his whole thing is about masculinity and control, so any loss of that would send him into a tailspin. he’d get defensive and PISSED. so his first instinct would be to project it all onto you.

assumes that you’d see this as some sign of failure on his part and take it personally, even if you hadn’t said anything to imply that.

would tell you that you’re simply “not turning him on” or “he’s just not in the mood,” bc there’s nothing more dangerous than a humiliated man lol.

he’d try to regain control of the situation. if he’s still upset, he’d get a little cold or distant. later, he’d try to turn things around by controlling the narrative, either with a dominant act or by shutting down any attempt at discussing it.

[nigtmarcz]

⎯⎯ Love Me Not

hamzah x reader

based off the song love me not by ravyn lenae

summary: hamzah has been neglecting his girlfriend y/n due to his busy work schedule. y/n feels invisible and frustrated by his lack of attention.

warnings: sad???

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing, so I’m sorry if it sucks lol. i was listening to this song and thought it would make a great plot for a story! hope you enjoy it! :3

-

The glow of the computer screen cast soft shadows across Hamzah’s face as he sat hunched over his desk. The air in his room was quiet except for the faint sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard. The newest Slushy Noobz video was almost done—just a few finishing touches before it would be uploaded for their fans who eagerly awaited their next upload.

But tonight, Hamzah wasn’t entirely focused.

His thoughts kept wandering to y/n, his girlfriend. She’d been on his mind constantly lately—more so than usual.

He hadn’t seen her much over the past few weeks. They were both content creators, each with their own projects, and while it was something they’d always been able to juggle in the past, recently it had begun to feel like the space between them was growing. She was in the living room, editing her own content, while he was buried in the latest Slushy Noobz video.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her, but he found himself getting swept up in the grind, constantly chasing the next big upload, the next milestone for his and Martin’s podcast, Out of Character. There was always something to do, something to edit, something to record.

But now, the silence between them seemed louder than ever. They hadn’t fought—at least, not in the usual way—but something unspoken lingered. Something that neither of them had fully addressed. And it was starting to feel like a weight pressing against his chest.

He glanced at his phone. y/n had sent him a message hours ago, but he hadn’t replied. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but everything had felt off.

Her text simply read: We need to talk soon.

The simple words made his heart sink. He knew exactly what she meant. She was frustrated. And he had been too distracted to notice.

With a deep breath, he closed his laptop, pushing the editing software aside. It felt like a relief to step away, but his heart ached with the nagging thought of the distance between them. He stood up, walking into the living room where y/n sat, bathed in the soft glow of her screen.

She looked up when he entered, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

Hamzah opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, y/n stood up, her arms crossed. She looked tired, not just physically, but emotionally. He had seen that look before—the quiet frustration that came from being overlooked, from being too far down the list of priorities.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know I’ve been distant. I’ve been caught up in work, and I didn’t realize how much it was affecting us.”

y/n gave a small, sad smile, but there was no warmth behind it. “I get it, Hamzah. You’re busy. But we haven’t really talked in weeks. I’ve been here, just waiting for you to notice, but it feels like I’m invisible.” Her voice broke on the last word, but she quickly swallowed the emotion, not wanting to show him too much.

“y/n…” Hamzah stepped forward, but she backed away slightly, a flicker of something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite understand.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” she asked softly, almost as if talking to herself. “I’m right here, all the time, and yet it feels like you’re living in another world—one where I don’t exist. Where it’s just you and the next video and the next podcast.”

He could feel the sting of her words, and he hated the way they made him feel like he was failing her.

“I don’t want you to feel that way,” Hamzah said, his voice barely a whisper now. “I don’t mean to make you feel invisible. I just… I don’t know how to slow down sometimes. There’s so much going on, and I get lost in it. But I never meant for you to feel left out.”

y/n shook her head slowly. “It’s not that you’re busy, Hamzah. I get it, I really do. It’s just that I don’t know where I fit in anymore. I’m here, and I care, but I’m starting to wonder if we’re even in the same place anymore.”

His chest tightened as the weight of her words sank in. He wasn’t sure what to say, how to fix it. He hadn’t been paying attention to what mattered most.

“I don’t need you to change everything, Hamzah,” she continued, her voice soft but firm. “I just want to matter to you. I want to be something real, not just an afterthought that comes second to everything else.”

“I do care about you,” Hamzah replied quickly, his heart racing. “I do, y/n. It’s just… it’s hard to balance it all. I don’t want to lose you.”

For a long moment, y/n stayed quiet, her gaze on the floor, her fingers lightly tapping on the edge of her laptop.

Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes heavy with a mix of pain and longing. “You say you don’t want to lose me, but you’ve been losing me slowly for weeks. I don’t know if you see it, but I miss you, Hamzah. I miss you, but I don’t need you. I miss the way we were before this whole thing took over. I miss you, come here.”

The words hit him harder than any criticism he’d received. The truth of it all hung in the air, like a silence that neither of them knew how to break.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking just a little. “I miss you, too. But I don’t know how to fix this... I don’t want to keep failing us.”

y/n closed her eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath. When she opened them again, there was something softer in her gaze, something that felt like a mixture of hope and resignation. “Maybe we just need to find our way back. I don’t know, Hamzah. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you to realize I’m here.”

Her words lingered in the air like a shadow between them, a painful truth neither of them could ignore. Without another word, y/n was gone. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was suffocating. The house felt colder now, emptier, as if her absence had seeped into the walls, leaving Hamzah alone with the weight of everything unsaid.

-

Hours later, as the quiet of the night settled in, Hamzah sat in front of his desk again. His video was still unfinished, but for the first time, the video felt less important than the empty space beside him. y/n was gone now, her absence heavier than any argument they could have had. The silence in the house was suffocating, and the stillness in the air made his thoughts spin.

He stared at his screen, but the words from their earlier conversation kept replaying in his mind: I miss you, but I don’t need you, Hamzah. I miss you, come here. Those words hadn’t just been a declaration of longing—they had been a quiet assertion of independence, a signal that y/n was done waiting for him to notice.

Hamzah rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of what she’d said. She didn’t need him anymore, no matter how much she still missed him. The space between them wasn’t just physical anymore; it was emotional, deep, and unspoken. He realized she had given him a choice—one he hadn’t fully understood until now.

He reached for his phone, hesitated for a moment, then typed a message to her: “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I don’t want to lose you. Can we talk tomorrow?”

He hit send and waited. The seconds dragged on, stretching into what felt like hours, but no response came.

A moment later, the familiar vibration of a reply lit up his phone. He quickly unlocked it, hoping for some kind of resolution. But when he saw her message, a heavy weight sank into his chest.

“Okay.”

The words were short, almost distant. There was no warmth, no eagerness to reconnect. Just a quiet acceptance. 

-

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, the space between them more suffocating than any physical distance. y/n’s voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to her words that cut through the silence.

“I miss you, Hamzah,” she started, her gaze never leaving the floor. “I miss how we used to be, but I can’t keep pretending that things will go back to the way they were. I’m tired of waiting for you to notice me, for you to put me first. I need to move on, for my own sake.”

Hamzah opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. He wanted to apologize, to say he could change, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He knew that something had already shifted between them, something that couldn’t be undone with words.

y/n continued, her voice steady despite the ache in it. “I’ve tried, Hamzah. I’ve tried to make this work, but it’s like I’m invisible to you. I’m right here, and you’re always so caught up in your work. I miss you, but I don’t need you anymore.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. The weight of them sank deep, and he realized that she wasn’t just saying goodbye—she was choosing herself. Choosing independence over the emotional attachment that had once connected them.

“I think... I think it’s time we both move forward,” y/n said, her voice quieter now, but firm. “I can’t keep waiting for something that might never come. You’re not the only one with dreams and goals, Hamzah. I’ve got my own life to live, and I can’t keep holding on to something that isn’t there anymore.”

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and feelings neither of them could fully articulate. Hamzah wanted to reach out, to say anything that might change her mind, but he could see it in her eyes: she had made her decision.

She was already gone.

Later that night, after y/n had left for good, Hamzah sat alone in the empty house. The space felt colder than it had before, as if her absence had stolen the warmth from the walls. He sat in front of his desk, staring at the finished video, but all he could feel was the heavy silence that had taken her place.

The message he had sent her earlier echoed in his mind—I don’t want to lose you. But as he replayed their conversation over and over, he realized that he had already lost her. He had lost her to the space he had failed to notice, to the time he had neglected, and to the love he had taken for granted.

The realization stung more than he expected. He missed her too, more than words could say. But as much as he longed for things to be different, he couldn’t deny the truth: she was better off without him, seeking her own path, her own independence.

Hamzah leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, feeling the weight of everything she had said. He missed her. But more than that, he understood why she had to go. The ache in his chest reminded him that sometimes, love wasn’t enough to hold two people together.

And for y/n, it had been time to let go.

[xylatox]

iced americano season, I finally have some uninterrupted time (mostly) and I'm so excited to get into it I absolutely love a Jay fic; a man after my heart. The amount I write in response to fics always surprises me

My heart clenches at their first interaction, Jay is so cute and pocket-sized and him being a regular at the café reader works at is so cute. I love to that there seems to be mutual interest between the 2, Jay being a regular and reader, despite her clearly being known to be a busy person knew of the game and asked about his well-being and giving him the goodie bag AWWWWW :((

Let's take a moment to appreciate reader and Han's friendship like thats so cute what the hell. Jay's not so subtle way of saying he's interested in reader #mewhen , that's so attractive of him especially since he did it after getting confirmation that she and Hannie aren't together. Jay being jealous is so valid to me (it's probably the scorpio in me) but I'd def be super jealous if I'm interested in someone and people who know if them think that they're with someone else because of the kind of relationship they have.

"Dude, Han’s so deep in the friend zone it’s practically a different zip code.” Oh my God this line, it absolutely eats but damn, that sucks (but is true) and Yeonjun adding to it oh my gosh I'm going to throw up this is amazing.

As a multistan, I always love Enha, TXT, Stray Kids crumbs so I'm living for these friendships. The pretty girl statement??? Jay I'll have to ask for your hand in marriage. Like reader a shot or 2 of confidence is definitely needed to kiss Jay, she's so real for that.

Ngl Han caught me OFF GUARD like, obviously it reeks with jealously but omg, I genuinely feel like throwing up hearing that, like I would've immediately stopped talking to Han because that's insane, he doesn't get to say that about reader because he's habouring 1 sided romantic feelings.

I love that despite how tired reader is, she still leaves him a message to text her with her number :((

The flirting, Jay bringing the food, the relationship is blossoming into something to cute. More and more flirting between the 2, I am living for it.

I love that reader makes the effort to go to the party and the moment they shared when she was tipsy was so so cute ugh. I appreciate how much Jay is looking out for her, it shows how much he cares for her wellbeing as well and his hesitancy in letting her walk back home on her own speaks volumes. THE CHEEK KISS AHHHHHHHH OH MY GODD, that entire moment is so cute what.

THE MENTION OF COACHES DAUGHTER AHHHH!!! Giggling like an idiot LOL. Him bringing her the coffee the day after :(((( I'll throw up and pass out this is so cute. I love too that reader is considerate of Jay and felt bad with the whole story thing. I love their bonding moment over Japanese music, and her dad and just ugh, it's so cute.

Had to take a moment to say I love whenever I see a P1H member mention? I love my boys and I loved seeing Intak mentioned (if this wasn't P1H and another Intak please ignore this for my sake <3)

I love Yudai :( I want a sibling wth this is so cute, and his girlfriend is cute too. Jay kissing her om the cheek awww, I am never going to get over this. The permission to kiss her😭😭😭 JAY the man you are I'm fangirling over this so bad. Ik Hannie is the "bad guy" but he is pissing me off what. It does break my heart that he said the things that he did but I appreciate Jay's reaction to the scene (and not causing a fight) and Chan and Minho also stepping in; it does hurt that a friendship is potentially over because of this.

Jay staying with her the night after all that is so sweet as well :(( Like it's super sad but comforting and sweet. I love every moment they spent together after but I love seeing reader and how she dealt with the situation

Ngl I didn't expect those hate comments like it caught me so off guard but again, the constant reassurance from Jay is so sweet. The moment between Jay and his dad :(( I absolutely love that and I love that Jay also reached out. Jay being angry on the rink (hot), reaching out to her brother (also hot), he's just so in love with her

Niki and Taki are so cute I wanna keep them in my pocket. I love that Jay also respects and gives her space, waiting for her to open up even she's ready. I also love Jay being with the boys and her, super cute. I love that he panics seeing Hannie and her but Jake reassuring him that is okay based on body language is super cute too. I am glad they talked tho, I hope the friendship could be salvaged

And reader finally breaks:( poor baby, and Jay being the good boyfriend and listening and reassuring. Coach Choi no😞😞😞 bestie why did you imply that. I love that it's reader's turn to reassure him :((( I love the supportive Dad and his team :((

I love the end, from reader going back to her friends and meeting Jay's parents, it's all super sweet and makes so so,happy.

Patty, I really do love your work, it's always a pleasure to read

iced americano season ˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗

⭑.ᐟ Strangers to lovers - Park Jongseong part 2 of 'the hockey diaries' series ˗ˏˋseries masterlistˎˊ˗

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 pairing. hockey player jay x radio host, influencer & barista Y/N (she s a busy girl).ᐟ₊ ⊹   ᝰ genre. College sports aus, 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)

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 but maybe ill do a lil "spin off" if I find the time .ᐟ₊ ⊹  

ᝰ taglist. @firstclassjaylee @50-husbands @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona @jaylvrsworld @xylatox

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 your 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. Niki’s going to blame me if I lose.” “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. 

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love PS: everybody who knows what books I am referencing gets a bick smack on the cheek! Peek book taste!

[gullemec]

The Light

Bitten Part II

ao3 Bitten Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You've been bitten. The kiss of death, the harbinger of a swift descent into monstrosity. But what if the kiss was only a graze? What if the monstrosity awaiting you is an entirely different kind?

Warnings: description of infected, gore, description of injury and stitches, mild non-sexual bondage, talk of death/dying, fighting, angst talk of death and dying, negative self-talk

Please let me know if I missed any TWs <3

WC: 9.3k

A/N: thanks so much for the love on part one! this was an idea i had back in april of last year, fleshed out the first couple parts and then just... never looked at it again lol. i'm really excited for where this story is headed!

Light pricks at your eyelids, soft and persistent, like the gentle prod of a forgotten memory.

For a moment, that's all there is. A dim glow, filtering through the cracks of your awareness, stirring you from the silence of nothingness.

Then... Pain.

It creeps in slowly, like an uninvited guest, settling in your side, radiating out to your temples, clawing at your chest with a dull ache. Your limbs feel heavy, twitching with the prickling sensation of pins and needles.

Your body. Your tired, unresponsive body.

Suddenly, you inhale sharply, a breath that feels like it’s fighting its way out from the deepest part of you. It's ragged, uneven, the air rushing in like a desperate plea. Your eyelids flutter open, confusion clouding your vision, then clearing, just enough to bring the world into focus.

You’re still here. Sitting on the cold, uneven forest floor. Still bound to the tree. Still trapped in the remnants of the night. The soft light of dawn filters through the trees, dappling the earth in shifting patterns.

For a moment, you don’t know what to make of it. The warmth of the sun doesn’t feel real. It’s too soft. Too gentle for where you’ve been.

Your head jerks to the side, instinctively scanning your surroundings, eyes wide, fearful, and expectant. Of what? You’re not sure. You don’t even know what you're waiting for.

You fix your eyes on your legs, still curled awkwardly beneath you. Slowly, carefully, you try to move. The muscles in your legs groan in protest as you extend one foot, feeling the cold press of the forest floor against your boots. You wiggle your toes, the movement sluggish but real. The heel of your boot digs just slightly in the dirt.

You’re moving.

You reach out, your hands trembling as you press them to the ground, grasping at the dry, brittle leaves that coat the earth like a funeral shroud. The sensation is so... grounding. So mundane. Your fingers curl around the leaves as though they can tether you to this moment, to something that feels far too fragile to hold onto.

But the thought lingers.

Is this death?

You try to summon the answer from the deep pit of your stomach, but there’s nothing. No clear response. No immediate understanding of what’s happening to you. You want to believe it’s over, want to believe that everything that’s come before was just a nightmare. But there’s still the pain. Still the ache. Still the burning, slow creep of the world around you.

And yet… you’re still here.

You quickly take stock of the rest of your body, taking measured breaths as you go. Save for the gash at your side and the numb, prickly discomfort of having spent the night restrained upright against a tree, somehow you feel… Fine.

Your gaze snaps up, and you see the crumpled figure just ten feet away. Joel. He’s still there. Still motionless. But he’s not… he’s not dead, is he? The thought shoots through your chest like an electric shock.

No, he’s… asleep?

A gnawing sense of urgency blooms inside of you. You clear your throat, forcing your voice through the tightness. It comes out hollow, weak, like an echo in a long-abandoned room. 

“Joel,” you call, your throat raw with the remnants of silent hours.

His shoulder jerks, a small, involuntary twitch, but he doesn't move. Doesn’t wake. The quiet hangs thick between you, the uncertainty weighing heavier with every passing second.

You swallow hard, the dryness in your throat unbearable, desperate for moisture, for any sound to carry past the lump lodged there. Slowly, you try again, drawing in a deep breath to push your voice out stronger.

“Joel!” This time, your voice catches, but it rises above a whisper, forceful in the way you feel the need to be heard.

His eyes snap open, his head jerking around toward the sound. For a split second, there’s nothing but confusion in his gaze, the remnants of sleep clouding his focus as his body starts to come to life, limbs stiff and uncoordinated, still half-trapped in the fog of slumber. He blinks at you, disoriented, and the realization strikes you both at once.

You’re awake.

You’re both awake.

The world, whatever shape it may be taking now, has shifted again.

Joel blinks once more, his eyes darting from the ground to you, the last dregs of sleep draining from his mind. 

And, in that instant, his gaze locks on yours, a moment of recognition flickering across his face, then the confusion sets in again.

Finally, he turns to you, his eyes wide, unguarded, and filled with something that sends a shiver down your spine. You stare at each other, suspended in an eternity of silence. His gaze flickers over you as he rises, movement slow and tentative, as though any sudden motion might shatter the strange, fragile new reality you’ve both found yourselves in.

The tension between you is palpable. It feels as though even the air around you has thickened, holding its breath.

“You… You’re still alive,” he whispers, the words almost a prayer, like he’s trying to convince himself of what he’s seeing. He stops just a few steps away from you, eyeing you with a wariness that makes your chest tighten. There’s a hesitation in the way he regards you now, as though he’s afraid that in a split second, you might vanish. Or worse, turn. His eyes search yours, looking for something, anything to confirm that the nightmare isn’t still unfolding. 

The soft light of dawn bathes his face in a gentle glow, casting long shadows beneath his eyes. They’re rimmed red, a mix of exhaustion and something deeper, something harder to place. You can see it, the hollow echo of sleep that never truly found him. His brows are drawn tight, his jaw clenched in a futile attempt to contain the emotions roiling within him. The tension in his body is a coil wound too tight, waiting for something to snap.

And still, you remain like this, frozen in a moment neither of you were prepared for. The silence stretches on, heavy with the weight of disbelief. Neither of you knows what to say, or how to bridge the chasm that has opened between you in the wake of everything that has transpired.

Finally, the silence is broken, and you feel the tremble in your voice as you speak.

“W-will you untie me?” The words come out more fragile than you intend, the vulnerability of your plea stark in the stillness of the morning. The shame you might’ve felt last night, the desperation of your condition, has melted away with the rising sun. In its place is something more hopeful, more alive. A smile, small and hesitant, curves at the edges of your lips. You’re alive. You’ve been given a second chance, and for the first time since this nightmare began, you can feel the smallest spark of hope. “Please?”

But the moment you speak, you see it. The way his face hardens, the flicker of something dark in his eyes. It’s not anger, it’s something else. His jaw tightens as if he’s fighting the urge to say something, to act in a way that goes against every instinct in his body.

He doesn’t know who you are. What you are.

You reach out, your voice shaking but insistent. “Joel, come on. Look at me. I’m okay. I’m…” The words trail off as the weight of his expression hits you. There’s something in his gaze now that’s almost painful to see. A quiet agony that cuts deeper than any physical wound.

You’ve seen Joel go cold before. You’ve witnessed the brutal efficiency of his violence, the way he’s turned into a machine of survival, calculating, precise, with a terrifying detachment. His eyes have glazed over in those moments, a heavy curtain drawn over his vulnerabilities. You’ve wondered before, in the quiet aftermath of his brutality, if there were even vulnerabilities to be obfuscated, or if twenty years in an apocalyptic wasteland had voided the man of any.

But now, you know that he is indeed capable of vulnerability. Because the man standing before you is afraid. Afraid of you.

The realization is like ice water pouring over you. 

His voice breaks the silence, thick with regret and something far worse. “I can’t do that.” The words are soft, but they’re heavy with the weight of everything he’s holding back. “I can’t.” His gaze falls, not out of shame, but out of fear, the same fear that lingers just beneath his every word. Fear of what you might become. Fear of what’s left of you.

“Joel, please,” you say, your voice trembling, a thin thread of desperation weaving its way through your words. “I’m cold, and it hurts so bad.” There’s a tinge of a whine that slips in, unbidden, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. If you weren’t above begging him to spare your life last night, you’re certainly not above begging for a little relief now. Pride feels irrelevant when pain digs deep into your bones. “And I’m really fucking hungry.”

At that, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, a spark of something flashing. Concern? Hesitation? It breaks through the cautious distance he’s tried so hard to maintain. For a moment, you swear you see the Joel you used to know, the one who’d always grumble about how much of a burden you were but would still push the last can of food into your hands without a word.

“Not like that,” you huff, catching the guarded expression tightening his features. “I’m hungry for food, not flesh. Jesus, Joel.” 

You roll your eyes for good measure, even though every movement sends a fresh wave of pain rippling through your side. The absurdity of the situation, the mere fact that you have to clarify such a thing, almost makes you laugh. Almost.

Joel doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he ticks his jaw, his teeth grinding as he glances away from you. You can see the tension in the lines of his shoulders, the way his body looks like it’s fighting itself, caught in some internal war. He shakes his head once, muttering something under his breath, maybe a curse, maybe a prayer.

And then, finally, he moves. His broad hand reaches for his pack, the rough material crinkling under his touch. You watch him sift through its contents, the methodical way he checks and rechecks as though stalling for time, before he pulls out a familiar red can.

Your eyes widen in excitement, and despite everything, a grin stretches across your face. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, your voice brimming with exaggerated reverence. “Chef Boyardee. Yes!”

Slowly, carefully, as though he expects you might rip through the bindings and lunge at him at any moment, Joel feeds you. His hands move with deliberate gentleness, the rough pads of his fingers steadying the spoon as he lifts each small bite of ravioli to your mouth. He’s careful not to smear sauce on your face, wiping the edge of the spoon against the rim of the can before offering it to you.

You can’t help but notice how his jaw clenches with each motion, how his brow furrows as though he’s fighting an internal battle with every bite you take. This act of care is almost unbearable to witness. It’s too intimate, too kind, and yet laced with suspicion. Tainted. When he finally deems you satiated, Joel sets the can down, rising to his feet with a stiffness that looks painful.

Without a word, he retreats to the tree where he spent the night, resuming his self-imposed quarantine. Settling at its base, he digs into his pack and pulls out a bag of jerky. You watch as he breaks his own fast, chewing mechanically, his dark eyes darting toward you every few seconds. He’s still watching, always watching, like a goddamn guard dog.

“So…” you start, shifting uncomfortably against the ropes binding you to the tree. The sharp edges dig into your wrists, and the ache in your muscles makes it impossible to sit still for long. “How long do you plan on keeping me tied to this tree?”

Joel pauses mid-chew, his jaw flexing as he stares at the ground. He doesn’t answer right away, and you almost regret asking.

You continue, voice softer now, trying to keep the edge of irritation from creeping in. “I get it, Joel. I do. You’re being cautious. I’d probably do the same in your position.”

The words feel hollow as they leave your mouth, though. Would you really?

In fact, if you had been in his position, if your companion had been bit, it wouldn’t have gotten this far. You’ve seen the bite before, the slow unraveling of hope as infection takes hold. Each time, you’ve done what needed to be done. A quick, merciful shot to the head. No hesitation. No wavering. It was survival, plain and simple.

Only now you start to question yourself. Yes, you had delivered many swift and merciful bullets to the brains of infected companions and strangers alike. But you had never felt anything stronger than passing empathy for them, never having traveled with one person for more than a few months. As you watch Joel, heavy eyes betraying his otherwise stoic demeanour, you wonder if your finger would twitch on the trigger, if you would hesitate if it were him.

The silence between you stretches, and you find yourself studying him again. His face, weathered and worn, carries the weight of someone who’s seen too much, done too much. His eyes, though weary, are sharp, like he’s still waiting for the moment he’ll have to act. To decide.

This is dangerous territory. Not just the question of what you’d do if the tables were turned, but the way your thoughts keep circling back to him. To Joel. To where the two of you stand now.

You’ve survived this long by keeping your walls high, your attachments fleeting, your goodbyes easy. It’s what’s kept you alive, kept your heart from splitting open every time someone was taken by this broken world. You told yourself that was the only way to make it. And yet, here you are, tied to this godforsaken tree, staring at the man who won’t meet your gaze, wondering how much of yourself you’d lose if Joel weren’t here anymore.

How much longer is he going to keep you like this? How long before he decides whether or not you’re still human?

The answer is two more hours because that’s how long it takes Joel to tear down the camp.

Two long hours spent watching Joel work. His movements are efficient, methodical, as he gathers your belongings, packing up everything with the quiet precision of someone who’s spent years honing the art of survival. He shoulders his pack, then yours, the added weight slowing his gait. Even now, his vigilance is a constant, he’s watching the treeline, glancing at you every so often, like he’s bracing for the moment everything might fall apart.

When he finally turns to you, kneeling before you in the dirt, it’s not with the relief or trust you’d hoped for. His eyes are wide, cautious, and so painfully guarded it makes your chest ache.

He takes your face in his hand, his rough palm enveloping your jaw. His thumb brushes against your cheek as he turns your head from one side to the other, inspecting every inch of you like he’s searching for cracks in a facade, some confirmation of what he fears most.

You gape at him, silently pleading for him to believe you, to see you. That despite the bite mark seared into your side, you’re still here. Still yourself. His eyes rake over every inch of your face but he will not meet your gaze, as though the real danger is held there. Perhaps it is.

With a resigned sigh, Joel reaches behind you, his fingers deftly working at the ropes binding you to the tree. The tension against your side relaxes, and a long, stuttered breath escapes your lips as the pressure biting into your skin all night finally eases.

“Let me look at that,” Joel says gruffly, gesturing to the dried bloom of blood copper-red on your shirt.

You hesitate, heart hammering in your chest, before pulling up the fabric. The shirt cracks and crinkles as it peels away, stiff and dry with old blood. You reveal the wound, a mess of coagulated red and purple, skin puckered around the crescent-shaped gashes of the bite.

Joel leans forward, hesitating. His face twists into a grimace, and his fingers ghost over the torn flesh, the gentlest touch you’ve ever known from him. His eyes flicker with something unspoken, a mix of dread and reluctant hope, before he pulls back and reaches into his pack.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“What, here? Right now?” you ask, incredulous.

“We need to start moving,” he snaps, his voice rough and irritated. “We’re already gonna be slow enough as it is. You may have survived a bite, somehow, but you sure as hell won’t survive sepsis.”

He doesn’t wait for your reply. Rising to his feet, he strides toward the roaring river where you’d been collecting water less than a day ago. His movements are brisk, his shoulders tense. He beckons you to follow him without looking back.

Still unsteady on your feet, you stumble after him, each step pulling at the ache in your side. Joel crouches by the riverbank, pulling out an old, battered first-aid kit, its edges frayed from years of use.

Washing his hands in the cold, rushing water, he wets a scrap of cloth and motions for you to come closer.

“Why don’t you lay on your side,” he says quietly. “It’ll be easier that way.”

You hesitate, but the sharp look he gives you leaves no room for argument. Awkwardly, you lower yourself to the ground, stretching out with your torn skin exposed to his watchful gaze. The bite mark isn’t clean, far from it. The jagged crescents are framed by shallow parallel scratches where the infected had clawed at you in desperation, trying to tear into your flesh.

Joel kneels beside you, and for a moment, he just stares at the wound, the lines around his mouth tightening. Then, with a practiced efficiency that belies the storm roiling behind his eyes, he begins to clean the area, the damp cloth dragging across the dried blood and raw edges of flesh.

You flinch at the sting, but Joel’s hand steadies you, his grip firm but careful. He doesn’t look at your face, but you see the tension in his jaw, the way his throat bobs when he swallows hard.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost apologetic.

And so you do. For once, you stay perfectly still, letting him work, trying to ignore the way his hands tremble ever so slightly as they move over your skin.

“That fucker got me good,” you laugh, the sound brittle and strained. You’re desperate to fill the silence, to lighten the crushing weight of the moment. “Hurts worse than the time I got stabbed in the ribs by a raider.”

You glance at Joel, hoping for a crack in his stoic exterior, a shared moment of levity. But he doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even look at you. His expression is carved from stone, his focus fixed entirely on the work in front of him.

The laughter dies in your throat, replaced by a wince as the sting of antiseptic burns through the wound. You turn your head away, though you’re not sure why. What’s left for you to prove to him? The last of your pride bled out hours ago when you fell to your knees and begged for your life, showing him just how small and vulnerable you really are. Just a pitiful girl in a world too cruel for softness, surviving only by the grace of others.

“It’s ‘cause the skin tore,” Joel finally speaks, his voice rough and measured, cutting through the quiet like gravel underfoot. He threads the needle with steady hands, though his words are anything but comforting. “It’s not as clean of a cut, so it hurts more.”

“Probably didn’t help that there was a rope digging into it for hours,” you offer weakly, forcing another laugh. The attempt at humor feels hollow, and Joel doesn’t budge. His jaw stays tight, his eyes locked on your side as he works.

The first stitch pulls, sharp and precise, and you clamp your teeth together, screwing your eyes shut. You summon what little strength you have left, focusing on your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Even so, the pain is relentless, a fiery throb radiating from the wound with every tug of the needle.

But it’s not just the pain that makes your head spin. It’s him. The sheer proximity of Joel, close enough to feel the heat of his body, to hear the low rasp of his breathing. It’s grounding and overwhelming all at once, and you teeter on the edge of losing yourself to it entirely.

When he pulls at a particularly tender spot, the pain finally breaches your fragile composure. A pained moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, raw and involuntary. Your hand darts out, digging into the dirt beside you, searching for anything to anchor yourself.

Joel flinches.

The movement is subtle but unmistakable. His hands freeze mid-stitch, and for a brief moment, he pulls back. Your eyes fly open, and what you see in his expression sends a jolt through your chest.

He’s wearing that mask again. The one he wore when he first looked at you this morning, still bound to the tree. The one he wore when he held his gun to your head last night.

He’s afraid of you. He’s afraid of you and it fucking kills you. 

You want to say something, to reassure him, but the words don’t come. They’re stuck in your throat, lodged behind the ache of the wound and the weight of his mistrust.

“Joel,” you whisper, voice trembling, but he cuts you off with a sharp shake of his head.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, the word rough and final. His eyes flicker for a moment, not quite meeting yours, before he forces himself to return to the task at hand.

His hands tremble as he picks up the needle again, and this time, you don’t dare make another sound.

When he’s done stitching you up, Joel rummages through his pack without a word, his eyes darting anywhere but at you. You stay hunched at the riverside, your breaths shallow and deliberate as you fight off the darkness threatening to creep in at the edges of your vision.

The pain is a dull roar now, throbbing in time with your heartbeat, but it’s not as sharp as it was when the stalker first bit you. Back then, adrenaline had carried you, numbing the worst of it. Now there’s nothing to shield you from the raw ache but the weight of your own shame, guilt, and embarrassment.

You can feel the sticky warmth of fresh blood seeping through Joel’s makeshift stitches, soaking into the tattered remnants of your shirt. It dribbles down your side in thin, lazy rivulets. The fabric clings to you, its once-white cotton now marred by layers of copper-red.

You glance down at it and can’t help but let your mind wander. The pattern of darkened patches spreading across the fabric reminds you, in some sick, twisted way, of the tie-dye shirt you made at summer camp when you were eleven. You almost laugh, the thought absurd and surreal, but the sound gets caught in your throat, swallowed by the weight of reality.

Movement in your periphery draws your attention. Joel tosses something in your direction, and it lands at your feet with a soft thud.

It’s a flannel shirt. One of his. Faded and well-worn, its plaid pattern softened from years of use. You reach for it instinctively, your fingers grazing the fabric. It’s soft, softer than you expect, especially coming from a man as rough around the edges as Joel.

“You should change outta that shirt,” he says gruffly, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

And then he turns his back to you, giving you privacy.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you brace against the tree to pull yourself upright. Your legs tremble beneath you, weak and unsteady, as though the weight of your body might crumble them at any moment. You glance at Joel’s broad shoulders, his back still turned.

You should be grateful. You’re vulnerable, broken, and the last thing you want is to feel exposed. But instead of comfort, his averted gaze leaves you feeling hollow, untethered.

You remind yourself that this isn’t the first time Joel’s seen you like this. The two of you have shared countless moments of necessity and survival in varying states of undress, bathing in rivers, changing into dry clothes after rainstorms. But this is different. You’re different.

 You swallow hard and turn your focus to the shirt in your hands. The fabric is warm where the sun has touched it, and it smells faintly of him. Wood smoke, sweat, and something earthy. You pull it close, letting the softness press against your chest, trying to summon the strength to shed the bloody remnants of your own shirt.

Still, as you begin to strip away the stained and tattered fabric, you can’t stop yourself from glancing over at him. Joel stands stiff and still, his hands at his sides. His head tilts slightly, like he’s listening for something, a threat in the woods, perhaps, or maybe just the sound of your breathing.

You almost want him to turn around. To look at you.

Not because you need him to see you like this, broken and weak, but because some part of you believes that his gaze might keep you grounded. Might keep you real. Like the act of him looking at you, acknowledging you, could confirm your humanity, the thing you’ve been clinging to with every ounce of strength you have left.

“Thanks,” you murmur as you pull the flannel over your shoulders, the fabric enveloping you in its warmth.

He doesn’t respond, but you catch the subtle shift in his posture, a slight tilt of his head, the barest hint of an acknowledgment.

As you tighten the flannel around yourself, you catch Joel slinging your pack over his shoulder, along with his own. The sight makes your chest tighten, a quiet but insistent stab of frustration lodging itself deep within you.

“Joel,” you call out, your voice steadier now, though it still carries the faint rasp of exhaustion.

He pauses, turning just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His expression is unreadable, stoic as ever, but you catch the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—weariness, maybe, or worry.

“I can carry my pack,” you offer, stepping closer and reaching for the strap.

He doesn’t let you take it. Instead, his grip tightens, knuckles whitening slightly as he pulls it closer to his chest.

“It’s too heavy,” he says flatly. “You’ll pull your stitches.”

You blink at him, your hand frozen mid-air. “Joel, I’m not helpless—”

“Didn’t say you were,” he cuts in sharply, his tone carrying just enough of an edge to make you flinch. He exhales deeply, glancing away as if to steady himself. When he looks back at you, his voice softens. “You’ve been through hell. Your body needs time to heal. Let me carry it.”

There’s no anger in his voice, but there’s no room for argument, either. His stance is firm, unyielding, and you know better than to push him. You drop your hand and step back, feeling the air between you grow heavier.

“Fine,” you murmur, though the word tastes bitter on your tongue.

Joel gives a small nod, like that settles it, and turns away to start back through the trees. You follow, your footsteps sluggish and uneven as you try to keep pace with him.

The sight of him ahead of you, his broad shoulders burdened by the weight of two packs, his stride deliberate and steady despite the extra load, fills you with emotions you’re not entirely sure how to name, let alone untangle.

You should be grateful. You know that.

But all you feel is the sharp, gnawing weight of your own inadequacy.

You’ve always pulled your weight. Always. In this world, there’s no room for weakness, no room for anyone who can’t hold their own. But now, with Joel hauling your pack alongside his, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve become exactly what you’ve fought so hard not to be. 

A burden.

It’s not just the physical weight he’s carrying—it’s you. The wounded, bitten woman trailing behind him, the one who confessed her love to him and received no reply.

The one who still might turn at any moment.

I’m still me, you want to scream, but what proof do you have to offer him? You can barely walk in a straight line without wobbling. You can’t even carry your own damn pack.

Your chest tightens further with every step, the shame coiling tighter around your ribs like a vice. Joel keeps moving, silent and steady, the crunch of his boots on the dirt trail the only sound between you.

The distance between you grows, not just physically, but in your mind too. He’s up there, strong and capable, bearing the weight of everything you can’t. And you’re back here, stumbling, sinking deeper into the pit of your own thoughts. This isn’t what he agreed to when you left the QZ together.

You watch him, shoulders stooped under the weight of both packs, and a cruel thought slithers in.

He’d be faster without you.

You can’t stop thinking about how easy it would be for him to leave you behind. How he wouldn’t have to carry this weight, both yours and his, if you weren’t here.

The anguish churns in your stomach, a festering knot of guilt and fear. Joel would never leave you behind. You know that. But it doesn’t stop the voice in your head from whispering harshly.

How much longer can you expect him to carry you?

Ahead of you, Joel adjusts the straps on his shoulders, his movements brisk and practiced. The sight only deepens the ache inside you, the image of him shouldering the burden so quietly, so completely.

You force yourself to keep moving, one step at a time, your breaths shallow and uneven. The weight he carries is physical, tangible, visible.

But the weight pressing down on you is just as heavy.

…

The sun sits low and heavy in the sky, bleeding soft golds and burnt oranges across the horizon, when you and Joel finally stop to rest. The landscape feels quiet, save for the crunch of his boots against the dirt and the rhythmic rustle of his movements as he sets to work. Joel doesn’t say a word to you—hasn’t for hours—and you don’t try to speak, either. The silence feels fragile, like it might shatter if either of you says the wrong thing.

You stand there, awkward for the first time ever in Joel’s presence. At the very beginning, things between you had been cold, distant, transactional. Two strangers forced together by circumstance, bound only by your proximity and shared will to survive. But it had never been awkward. There’d always been a clear understanding between you, unspoken but solid. You pull your weight, he pulls his. Equals. Partners, even, in some loose, tenuous sense of the word.

But now? Now you have no idea where you stand with Joel.

The man, always so stoic, so gruff, so practical, had shown you mercy. Mercy you begged for, pleaded for, but weren’t sure you deserved. It would’ve been easier, cleaner, for him if he’d just done what you had agreed upon. What you’ve done yourself, more times than you’d care to count. But Joel had hesitated. And while you’ve clung to that hesitation like a lifeline, you can’t ignore the way he looks at you now.

The truth is clear in the wary glances he casts your way, the way his shoulders tense when you move, the distance he keeps between you. Something immense has shifted, changed.

You try to make yourself useful, but every time you take a step toward him, toward the tripwires he’s setting, toward the firepit he’s building, he shifts away, his movements just slightly quicker, more guarded. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Like he’s a wolf and you’re some strange, untrustworthy creature circling too close to his den.

So you stand there, useless, watching as he works with grim determination, his actions precise and practiced. His hands stack stones into a small ring for the fire, their rough, calloused movements so achingly familiar it hurts. You’ve seen these same hands patch your wounds, fix broken gear, hold a gun steady against impossible odds. And yet, when you think of those hands on you now, gentle, protective, intimate, it feels like a fantasy.

Your sleeping bag hangs limply in your hands as you watch him unfurl his own beside a tree, pointedly a few feet away from where the fire will be. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay, doesn’t offer you the same reassurance he’s always managed to, even in his blunt, gruff way. He just works, and for a moment, you feel like a stranger all over again.

You want nothing more than to set your bag up next to his. Hell, forget next to—you’d crawl into his sleeping bag if you thought he’d let you, let him pull you into his arms the way you dream about on the nights when the fear and the pain are too much. You want the safety of his warmth, the reassurance of his presence, the simple proof that you’re still human in his eyes.

But when you lay your sleeping bag down, tentatively, cautiously, a couple of feet from his, Joel looks up. His eyes narrow slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Your heart sinks. For a moment you think he’s going to pull that damned nylon rope out again, damning you to another night bound to a tree. The mere thought has your stomach roiling.

“Why don’t you sleep closer to the fire,” he says, voice even but firm.

You blink at him, confused. “What?”

“Be better for you,” he says, nodding toward the firepit. “Warmer.”

The words hit you harder than they should. It’s a practical suggestion, one Joel would’ve made a hundred times before. But now, in this strange new reality you’re forging through, it feels like rejection. It feels like he’s pushing you away. Not physically, not really, but in every way that matters.

It takes everything in you not to cry right there, in front of him. Not to let the fragile composure you’ve managed to hold onto since that stalker sank its teeth into you crumble entirely. You look down at your sleeping bag, then back up at him, searching his face for something, anything, that might soften the blow. But Joel’s eyes are unreadable, his expression hard as stone.

“Yeah,” you say finally, your voice small and unsteady. “Sure. That makes sense.”

You pick up your sleeping bag and move it closer to the fire, your hands trembling slightly as you smooth it out on the ground. You don’t look at Joel again, and he doesn’t say another word.

The fire crackles quietly as the sun dips below the horizon, and you lay there, staring at the sky. You feel the distance between you and Joel like a physical weight, a chasm growing wider with every wary glance, every cautious word. And yet, despite the growing ache in your chest, you can’t bring yourself to blame him.

You’d be afraid of you, too.

…

The days that follow are steeped in a silence so heavy it feels like another weight in your pack. You and Joel move through the wilderness like two ghosts, tethered only by the faint sound of boots crunching against dirt and the occasional snap of a twig. He leads the way, his shoulders hunched with purpose, his gaze fixed ahead. You trail behind, watching his back, wondering if you’ll ever feel the comfort of standing beside him again.

It’s not the silence itself that hurts, it’s the way it’s filled with all the things neither of you can bring yourselves to say. A hundred words linger on the tip of your tongue, only to die in the quiet air between you. You tell yourself that Joel has words too, buried somewhere deep beneath his stoic exterior, but he never lets them rise. When he looks at you, and it’s rare, his gaze is fleeting, sharp, and edged with something you don’t want to name. Not anger, not guilt, but something close.

You try, in your own quiet ways, to bridge the distance. You hand him water when he’s too focused on the map to reach for his own. You catch a rabbit and offer to cook it, wanting to prove you’re still capable of more than slowing him down. You try to meet his eyes when you pass him his share, but he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t speak, just mutters a gruff thanks and turns his attention elsewhere. Each rejection, no matter how small, stings more than it should.

And yet, you can’t stop trying. You find yourself studying the sharp lines of his face in profile as you walk, searching for cracks in the cold armor he’s built around himself. You start speaking softly to fill the silence, comments about the weather, the trees, memories of the places you’ve both been before. At first, you think he doesn’t hear you, but then you notice the subtle twitch of his jaw, the faint narrowing of his eyes. He’s listening, even if he won’t acknowledge it.

But Joel remains distant, his reluctance hanging between you like a stormcloud. When you stumble, he catches your arm, steadying you with a firm grip, but he doesn’t let it linger. When you ask him for his thoughts on the path ahead, he keeps his answers clipped and to the point, giving nothing more than necessary. It’s as if he’s trying to remind himself, and you, that there’s a line between you now, one that didn’t exist before.

And still, there are the stares. The ones you steal when he’s not looking, the ones you think he doesn’t notice. And then there are the ones you catch from him, fleeting and filled with something unspoken. They come when he thinks you’re distracted, his gaze flickering over you like he’s searching for something. Maybe reassurance. Maybe proof. Maybe nothing at all.

By the third day, the tension between you feels taut enough to snap. You’re no closer to closing the chasm than when you started, and Joel seems further away with every mile. You wonder if the silence will swallow you whole before he ever lets you in again. And worse, you wonder if he even wants to.

…

The cabin appears like a mirage in the dense wilderness, tucked away behind a curtain of pine and birch. It’s small, unassuming, half-hidden beneath a sagging roof and weather-worn boards. Joel spots it first, his sharp eyes catching the faintest glint of sunlight reflecting off one of the cracked windows. Without a word, he gestures for you to follow, his rifle slung low but ready.

You trail after him, exhaustion biting at your heels with every uneven step. The hike had been grueling, your body protesting every movement, but you pressed on. You always did.

Joel reaches the door first, testing it with a cautious hand. It creaks open with a groan of rusted hinges, revealing the dim interior beyond. The air smells faintly of damp wood and decay, but it’s shelter, and in the apocalypse that’s more than enough.

“Stay behind me,” he mutters, his voice low but firm. You don’t argue.

The inside is a testament to abandonment. Dust blankets the sparse furniture, cobwebs drape the corners like Halloween decorations, and the remnants of someone’s life lay scattered and forgotten. A tipped-over chair. A shattered picture frame. The faint outline of boot prints long since faded into the floorboards.

Joel moves methodically, sweeping each corner with the barrel of his rifle. When he’s satisfied it’s clear, he lowers the gun and lets out a breath.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” he says, his tone leaving no room for debate.

You nod, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. The weight of the day clings to you like a second skin, and for a moment, you lean against the doorframe, letting the relative safety of the cabin wrap around you like a fragile embrace.

Joel doesn’t stop moving. He checks the windows, tests the locks, and places a chair beneath the doorknob for good measure. You watch him from where you stand, his movements mechanical and precise, like he’s following a script.

It hits you, then, just how quiet it’s been between you lately. Not the comfortable kind of quiet, the kind you’d grown used to over the past year, but a heavy, suffocating silence. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words die before they reach your lips.

Joel is already moving toward the fireplace, crouching to inspect it.

“There’s enough wood to get a fire going,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You nod again, even though he isn’t looking at you, and set your pack down on the floor. The cabin feels colder than it should, the air between you as icy as the draft slipping through the cracks in the walls.

When Joel finally stands, brushing his hands on his jeans, his eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments. It’s enough to send a pang through your chest, sharp and unforgiving.

“Make yourself useful,” he says gruffly, nodding toward the overturned chair. But his tone lacks its usual bite, and you can’t tell if it was because he was tired or because he didn’t have the heart to put more venom behind his words.

You swallow down the lump forming in your throat and turn away, moving to set the chair upright.

The tension simmers in the air, unspoken but palpable. You both work in near silence, clearing space, setting up camp inside the cabin. But even as you move, your thoughts churn, and the walls around your heart that you’d tried so hard to rebuild feel paper-thin.

And when it’s done, when the fire crackles weakly in the hearth, and the room is as ready for the night as it can be, you find yourself staring at Joel, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you.

That’s when it hits you, sharp and clear. Nothing is the same anymore. You’d thought finding this cabin, the safest spot you’d found in weeks, would bring relief, but all it had done was throw the widening chasm between you and Joel into stark relief.

And that’s where the anger begins.

Days ago, you had stared death in the face, resigned yourself to its inevitability. All of the fighting, the loss, the blood your hands accrued over two decades, it was supposed to mean something. It was supposed to buy you more time. And yet, in the violence of a single moment, all that effort had been rendered meaningless.

And you had chosen, in those final, fleeting moments, to dedicate your last breaths to one final act of defiance—not against the infected, not against the collapse of society, but against your own fear. Against the walls you’d built around yourself. You’d spoken the truth aloud, unvarnished and raw, to the one person who had somehow slipped past your defenses. You’d confessed everything, your truest, deepest feelings for Joel Miller, the man who had, against all odds, become your anchor in this godforsaken world.

And what had he done with it?

Nothing.

No, worse than nothing. He had pushed you away. Regarded you as a burden, as a monster. His eyes, always sharp and guarded, had turned colder than you’d ever seen them, full of calculation and something that looked a hell of a lot like regret. 

Regret that he hadn’t left you tied to that tree. 

Regret that he hadn’t done the merciful thing and put a bullet in your head the moment he found you bleeding on the river’s edge.

And that sting of rejection was sharper than any wound you’d ever endured. It clawed at your insides, turning over and over in your mind like a blade you couldn’t pull free. You’d given him everything, your trust, your companionship, your heart, and now he looks at you like you’re a problem he doesn’t know how to solve.

And now here you are, alive, breathing, but somehow less whole than when you’d faced your supposed end. The bite hadn’t turned you into a monster, but his rejection? That had made you feel like one.

“Be honest, Joel. Why'd you tie me to that tree?” The words spill out sharper than you intended, slicing through the stillness. You stand from where you’re sitting and glare at his back. “I’ve seen you put a bullet between the eyes of good men for lesser threats than a bite. I’ve listened to them beg for their lives, and you never hesitated, not once.”

Your voice trembles, but your stare does not. He knows it, you can see the tension stiffen his shoulders. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t meet your gaze, keeping his focus fixed stubbornly ahead.

“Why am I still alive?”

He exhales roughly, the sound carrying a mix of frustration and something else, something you can’t name. “I don’t know why the hell you’re still alive,” he mutters, his tone clipped, low, but no less biting. “You shouldn’t be.”

“Why do I feel like you’re mad at me for being alive?” you shoot back, incredulous. Your voice rises without your consent, carrying the full weight of the question that’s been gnawing at you for days. “I mean, I don’t know, Joel, but I feel like this is probably a good thing?”

His hand flexes at his side, and when he turns to you, his face is flushed, his pupils blown wide with something fierce and electric. “I don’t know what the fuck this means!” His voice erupts, louder than you’ve ever heard it, cracking like thunder. “You got bit, I saw it—”

“Yeah, Joel, I know! I was there. I saw it too, I definitely fucking felt it!” Your words cut through his, your tone rising to match his.

His jaw works as he clenches his teeth, a vein in his temple pulsing. “Maybe you’re still gonna turn,” he spits. “Maybe it’s just taking longer for some goddamn reason.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, disbelief spreading across your face like wildfire. “You still think I’m gonna turn?” you demand. “Is that why you untied me? Is that why you stitched me up? Why you didn’t already ditch me when you had the chance?”

“No, I—Jesus Christ,” Joel cuts himself off with a shaky hand dragging through his hair. His eyes flick to yours for a moment before he turns away, pacing a few steps ahead before sinking into a crouch. His hands come up to his face, his elbows propped on his knees. “I don’t fucking know, okay? I don’t know!” His voice cracks on the last word, raw and broken.

You’re shaking now, anger and something else—humiliation, or maybe heartbreak—setting your whole body alight. 

“Well, then maybe I should just fucking go,” you spit, words tumbling out fast and furious. “Since I’m such a threat to your safety and all, right? I’ll do us both a favor and head out right now. Just let me know which direction you’re going, and I’ll go the opposite way.”

Your sweaty hands reach for your pack, slumped next to his, your fingers trembling as you grasp the straps. You tug it upright with more force than necessary, your entire body thrumming with adrenaline and fury.

But underneath all of it, underneath the heat of your anger and the sharp edge of your words, is the ache of something deeper. An ache for the trust you’ve lost, the connection you once had, for the man who now looks at you like you’re something dangerous. Something he can’t figure out how to protect himself from.

For the past year, you had worked your way past Joel’s defenses, brick by brick. Every witty jab and corny joke had earned you an eye roll that softened into a begrudging chuckle. Every time you stood your ground against a raider or infected, you felt his respect for you grow, a silent acknowledgment that glimmered in his rare, approving nods. You saw it in the quiet way he handed you the better half of his ration, in the steady gaze he kept on you during fireside silences, in the reluctant, piecemeal stories he shared about his life before. All of it had unraveled like thread from a tightly wound spool.

Joel didn’t need to tell you it was never like this with anyone else. You knew it. Somewhere between Boston and Montana, between near-death escapes and hard-won victories, you’d wormed your way into a part of Joel’s life no one had touched in decades. He may not have said it, but you could see it in the way his walls bent around you, cracked just enough to let you see inside.

But while you’d been busy working your way into the maximum-security prison that was Joel Miller, you’d left your own gates wide open. As much as you wanted to believe you’d been as guarded, as calculated as he was, the truth was he hadn’t even needed to try.

And now? Now he stood before you with a book of matches, lighting them one by one and tossing them onto the floor of your sanctuary. Watching it burn.

Stupid girl. 

You’d survived two decades of this apocalypse, outlived everyone you’d ever cared for, walked through hell with blood and ash on your hands, and this, this man, was what brought you to your knees? You’d been so busy protecting your body and your mind that you’d forgotten to protect your heart. Hell, you weren’t even sure the damn thing still existed, and what a cruel way to find out it did.

What’s worse is that Joel hadn’t even knocked. That night when he lay beside you, when his warmth pressed against yours and stirred long-dormant butterflies in your stomach, he’d walked right in.

But then death had come for you. You’d been nose-to-nose with it, the felt its claws sink into your flesh, and that door to your heart had been flung wide open in your desperation. Any pretense of a defense you’d had left was gone. You’d flicked the lights on, drawn back the curtains, and beckoned him inside. Hung up a damn welcome banner. And Joel had taken one long look around, shut the door, and walked away.

You feel the anger bubble over, molten and bitter. You fling the pack over your shoulder, wincing as the weight pulls at your freshly stitched wound. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, but you bite it back, determined not to show him any more weakness.

You don’t bother to look at him. Don’t wait for a retort, an apology, or even the gruff indifference that had become his default. You don’t even know where you’re going, not really. All you know is that you need to get out of that cabin, away from the suffocating air between you, away from the man who’d found your heart, turned it over in his calloused hands, and decided it wasn’t worth keeping.

You’ve barely made it fifty feet from the cabin when Joel’s voice cuts through the trees.

“Stop. Dammit, just stop!”

The sharpness of his tone freezes you in your tracks despite every instinct screaming at you to keep moving. You turn halfway, your pack slung over your shoulder, glaring at him through the dim light.

“What does it matter, Joel?” you snap, your voice brittle. “I can take care of myself.”

“You can barely stand upright,” he counters, striding toward you with that same no-nonsense energy that makes you want to throw something at him. “And you’ve got a dozen stitches I just put in your side to prove it. So, no—you’re not taking care of yourself.”

Your jaw tightens, anger flaring hot and fast in your chest. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were suddenly so concerned about me.”

“Concerned?” Joel barks a humorless laugh, stopping just a couple of feet from you. “This isn’t about concern. This is about common goddamn sense. You walk out there on your own in your state, and you’ll be dead by sunrise. Then what was the point of me draggin’ your ass through the woods for the past three days?”

His words sting badly, hitting every raw nerve he can find. “What do you care if I live or die, Joel? You’ve made it pretty clear I’m just a liability to you now.”

Joel’s eyes narrow, his face hardening. “You’re right, I don’t want to drag your ass out of a ditch when you pass out from blood loss. Or come across your body torn to shreds because you decided to wander off like some stubborn damn fool. How fuckin’ dare I, right?”

You feel the heat of tears burning at the back of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “So that’s it? You just don’t want to deal with your own guilty conscience?”

He exhales sharply, his frustration simmering just under the surface. “I’m sayin’, get your ass back in that cabin and rest up. We’ve got miles to cover tomorrow, and I’m not waitin’ around for you to heal if you tear those stitches open.”

You stare at him, your chest heaving, a thousand biting retorts on the tip of your tongue. But there’s something in the way he looks at you, something almost imperceptible beneath his rough exterior, that gives you pause. He’s angry, sure, but there’s something else, something unsaid.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” you mutter, your voice trembling as you hoist your pack higher on your shoulder.

“And you’re wastin’ time arguin’ with me,” he shoots back, jerking his head toward the cabin.

You don’t want to go back. Every fiber of your being screams at you to keep walking, to prove to him—and yourself—that you can survive on your own. But your legs ache, and your stitches throb, and deep down you know he’s right.

“Fine,” you bite out, brushing past him with a shoulder bump that barely registers against his solid frame.

He follows close behind, silent except for the crunch of his boots on the forest floor. When you reach the cabin, you toss your pack to the floor and drop onto your sleeping bag without a word. Joel moves to his own spot by the door, setting his rifle within reach and sitting down with his back against the wall.

The silence that settles between you is suffocating, thick with all the words neither of you will say. You turn on your side, facing the wall, and close your eyes.

You’re not sure if it’s exhaustion or anger that eventually pulls you into a restless sleep, but as you drift off, you can’t help but wonder if Joel really meant it when he said this wasn’t about concern.

[mysterialistic]

Random thoughts from Yingdu episode 5:

-I’m surprised by how easily Cheng Xiaoshi takes the news that he has powers. I would be freaking out, but my man here thinks he's an anime protagonist—which he is lmao.

-LU GUANG'S PAST CRUMBS. We learned that he does in fact have a family (at least a dad lol) and that they knew about his powers. I could make a thousand theories regarding this, but that’s for another post.

-So that weird scene where Cheng Xiaoshi teleports)? to Yingdu in the post credits scene of episode 1 was him using his powers, which kinda makes sense, except for the fact that Liu Xiao was there too? I have a lot of questions.

-Also, someone should give Lu Guang a price for managing to confess his feelings to his crush without actually doing it lmao. I loved that scene where we finally saw his response to Cheng Xiaoshi after the basketball scene.

-We FINALLY saw the blonde woman (I can’t remember her name, I’m sorry). She’s really smart (apparently has powers), she was bullied and she had some sort of relationship with Cheng Weimin. That’s all we know.

-Cheng Xiaoshi meeting his dad and taking it out on him was so unexpected. I really thought he was gonna end up crying or something, but his dad seems to be really shitty at parenting lol, so it makes sense that he’s mad at him, specially after saying that he basically ran away from his son and responsibilities.

-When Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang loose connection it seems that it’s because LG is tired)? Unless that there was someone else’s power interfering with their connection (like Li Tianchen and Xixi in season 2), probably the blonde girl or CXS's dad.

-Xia Fei knew Cheng Weimin, which could kind of explain why he reacted when he heard his name? It makes me wonder if no one realized that another student survived the fire because he was obviously studying in that school too.

-Cheng Xiaoshi bonding with his KILLER was not on my bingo card lmao.

-Vein asking Cheng Xiaoshi to serve him?? I’m so confused. Is this a red herring and he just wants him to model for him or what does he want?

-Lastly, I’m almost sure this timeline isn’t the season 1 & 2 timeline, it simply wouldn’t make sense. Cheng Xiaoshi kind of knows what happened to his dad, he saw him and all of this experiences they’re living in Yingdu just don’t fit with the current story. It would be so confusing if this is the current timeline, there’s too many changes and little factors that don’t make sense given how CXS acts.

[katerinaaqu]

Hello! Been a frequenter on your page and I am I’m love with your work. I have a few questions, and I’m hoping you can re-wire the truth of Greek Mythology for me. (Cause some people…..you know) 1. Have Diomedes and Odysseus met before the Trojan War? If they didn’t, did they have general knowledge of the other at least? 2. I’ve heard that Odysseus wasn’t as physically intimidating as the others, (Agamemnon, Diomedes, etc) Is that true? Because sites and docs make Odysseus seem like he is a tiny, little man who likes to ONLY think in his tent and has everyone else do his heavylifting. Does he at least have some military experience? If you had to assign a body type for him, what actor, influencer, or singer would you say, “yeah that’s him.” 3. I know that Odysseus is, at least, in the morally gray side of the universe. Does he have his moments of “honor”, or certain people’s versions of “morally correct?” Does he have moments of selflessness, bravery, or integrity?

And some silly little questions. Since Odysseus is your favorite character, If he walked into a therapists office/physical examination/got analyzed by a classification system, when he walked out, what mental evaluation would have been made. Ex. PTSD, BPD, etc. (I searched on doctor google, and they said maybe he would be on the spectrum of ASPD.) If Odysseus was alive today, would he still be a schemer, liar, etc. Would it be tamed down? Not looking for the mental gymnastics as much?

I adore your stuff, keep on doing you. I hope to see more.

You are a frequenter to my page and you are asking me on how I feel on people drawing Odysseus as a tiny figure or whether I believe Odysseus is brave?! THE HORROR! Just kidding I am a yapper and I love analyzing that! So here we go every point at the time.

As always viewer's discretion is advised because my yapping will be non-stop!!!! XD

I remember answering that question in the past to someone else who was wondering of it. If we follow sources like Apollodorous for example, Diomedes was one of the suitors of Helen's and he was also bound under the Oath of Tyndareus. I suspect that was why Apollodorous wanted to explain as to why Diomedes was in the war to begin with. So under this version, Odysseus and Diomedes met for the first time in Sparta while both courted Helen. However I do side up more with other sources that do not include him because arguably Diomedes is the youngest or one of the youngest kings around and he would be very young to be courting Helen at that time (Even archaic paintings more often whatnot have him beard-less so that means he was in his 20s, maximum early 30s in the war when Iliad takes place, aka the final years so that means he joined when he was somewhere between 18-20 years of age). That also fits since some readings of the War of the Epigonoi in which Diomedes took part in, happened around 5 years before Troy when Diomedes was 14). As per readings Helen's courting happened 10 to 20 (as per Apollodorous extended narrative which again do not find me agreeable for! Hehe) years before Troy. Diomedes would literally be a child at that time. So I think it is more logical assumption to believe they met for the first time in Aulis at the gathering of the fleet. As for whether they knew each other by narrations, possibly. Judging on how the kings spoke to Diomedes about his father Tydeus, means that they had knowledge of him and his war with the other Seven against Thebes so yes I believe they have heard of each other but I do not think they actually met before Aulis. They are a generation apart after all!

Gosh...yeah I see it all the time and honestly I am soooo tired of it (I mean sure art is art and everyone is free to draw what they want but honestly I don't think I have ever seen something more inaccurate than people draw Odysseus like a tiny skinny guy and man ONLY STAYS IN HIS TENT?! Lol the dude was lifting the entire Trojan War if not the Epic Cycle on his back! XD I even made this post a while back:

Odysseus? Really? The guy that stood his ground against behemoth Ajax in their wrestling in the funeral games of Patroclus? (Sure when Ajax managed to take the upper hand for one second, Odysseus cheated and kicked him behind the knee but then they were wrestling again and literally neither of the two could come on top). Or Odysseus that basically made Irus, the beggar and all the suitors back off in wonder when he showed his body during his match against Irus (of whose jaw he broke with just ONE punch)? The guy whose back and thighs were so thoroughly described in the Odyssey that it became ridiculous!? Hahaha right!

Arguably his first description happens in the Iliad, which I am citing in this analysis of mine in the past:

Odysseus is described usually short or average to short of structure and then Homer proceeds to explain to us how he is wider in the shoulder and the chest than Agamemnon who was a head taller than him. He is described that he looks like a ram, as I mentioned to my analysis; an animal sturdy, proud and strong. Odysseus has arguably one of the best physiques out heroes despite his age (which makes one wonder how he was in his peak at the age of 30 or something)

As for whether he sat in his tent all day I think that if there is even one person who said that he hasn't read a single thing on Homer. Odysseus was always in the center of all action of the war. Yes, he does refrain from rushing in battle (In the Iliad for example he kept his troops away from action till it was their right moment to arrive or that he placed himself as almost for last to fight with Hector because yeah he wasn't in the mood on dying that day!) but he was always fighting to the front lines, he was always inserting himself in the events that were happening. He was taking part in secret missions such as the one we see in the Iliad (Diomedes and himself going to counter-spy the enemy field or in the Odyssey how he literally sneaks in Troy, which is linked to the Palladium of Athena heist story).

As I mention to that humorous post of mine; Odysseus literally does almost everything in the war; he was ambassador, he was settling things between kings when they had conflicts, he was fighting first line when he had to (but knew when to refrain from it to assure his safety and the safety of his men, thus suffering the bare minimum losses at war), he kept everyone together when he had to, he captured Helenus and extracted the prophecy from him, he went to get the Palladium himself, he came up with the Horse idea and he was one of the first inside the horse etc. Even in the Odyssey; he conquered Ismarus, he killed the suitors himself, he was ready to fight gods and monsters for his men etc. I think the sources speak on themselves.

Yes he does have military experience. For starters the slaves in his palace are called δμωαί which means "slave acquired at war" so most likely he did some of it himself. Two he has the bow that was given to him as a gift for offering assistance to Messina (although the exact length or nature of it is not mentioned in the Odyssey) and Penelope informs us that Odysseus faced the Taphian pirates before (when she mentions the incident of Antinous's father arriving to the palace chased after and begged Odysseus to save his life). Odysseus definitely has military experience (possibly his military successes made him also king while his father was alive, potentially Laertes recognized his son's talent and retired) but it seems that his military experience was not of a large or extended scale (for example like Diomedes) or of conquering nature (like Agamemnon or Diomedes, the first expanded the influence of his kingdom and the latter conquered Thebes, took control of Argos and regained control of his grandfather's lands for him) but they seem rather of domestic nature, such as the mutiny of the Taphians, an area close to his kingdom or offering assistance to a fellow king without getting too much into detail.

Hmm hard to say that I can find some straight out similarity to Odysseus that is a very good question.

I think though so far the greatest resemblance I could find was Christos Tsagas who played Odysseus in Iphigenia movie in 1977 whom I am mentioning here:

And here:

That was literally my moment of

3. Actually I have referred to the matter in another answer of mine:

As I mentioned to that ask of mine, I think the characterization of "morally gray" for Odysseus at least as far as Homer is concerned is not doing him full justice. Odysseus has no problem recognize right from wrong nor does he make bad decisions without thinking even if he knows is not morally correct. Yes, he oftentimes is ready to cheat (see for example the match of Ajax) and he is capable of twisting his words on certain things but he doesn't seem to be the type of person that consistently breaks the law for the loves of it (now his version on certain post-homeric sources such as the plays of Euripides who was consistently writing Odysseus negatively, or Conon, who is the oldest known version to my knowledge of the story in which he tries to backstab Diomedes) I do not see much to characterize him as such. Perhaps the alleged murder of Palamedes would be one (even if we do not know what the contribution of Odysseus was in the Epic Cycle for sure given how we only know Epic Cyle moments from scholiasts and later sources, but as I said I find it way too complicated matter to characterize him straight out as "morally gray" in general much less for Homer

However I absolutely understand what you mean.

Once again I get disappointed when people always assume that Odysseus is like the dude that would step on you to save his ass and laugh in the night about it when we have literally the lengths to which he went in the ENTIRE Odyssey which I analyze here:

Or how he went to save Diomedes in Rhapsody 11 in Iliad! He literally rushed to his assistance and gave him his chariot and stayed behind to cover his retreat. Odysseus also is named the most pious to the gods and the best when it comes to sacrifices by Zeus himself. He protects his men by literally sacrificing his own body when he was forced to accept Circe's bed and mind you he was ready to face her WITHOUT knowing how to beat her spell. Hermes just happened to be on his way. Odysseus didn't know that he would have help. He literally went towards the unknown, with just his sword at hand, to face an immortal witch without knowing what to do because he cared for his men and he was planning his way through. He was ready to fight Skylla. He also tried to test the suitors so all of them wouldn't need to die. He also scolds his wetnurse for wishing to cry out of joy upon seeing the results of the slaughter.

Even in post-homeric sources we know from Pausanias that Odysseus gave Penelope a choice whether she wanted to marry him or return to her father. So he respected her decision. In Sophocles's "Ajax" he feels sympathy for Ajax's condition and he insists upon giving him a proper burial when all other kings turned their backs on him. He also protects the body of Achilles alongside Ajax before that etc.

I think people saying Odysseus has no honor or integrity or that he is totally immoral or that he is not brave or has no selflessness simply haven't read enough of Odysseus. The entirety of the Odyssey was him trying to save what he can from his crew and placing himself in harm's way for them and protecting them with all he had.

~~~~~~~~

Hmm that is an interesting question. Quite frankly I do not think it is fair to always find disorders or syndromes to the Greek heroes and such because just because someone has certain behavioral patterns doesn't necessarily mean they need to be diagnosed just like with everyday people after all. What is more certain behavioral patterns in Greek mythology can be partially "ignored" in one way given how the ancient Greek sources also speak of pre-determined events and such so the agency of the heroes is rather blurry subject but that being said here we go.

I absolutely wouldn't say that Odysseus belongs to the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum. Especially when Homer is concerned. I mean as per DSM-5 ASPD in order to be diagnosed we have:

A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others, occurring since age 15 years, as indicated by three (or more) of the following:

Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest. (Odysseus doesn't conform to social norms? Who is the one in charge for sacrifices? Who respects the gods to the level of not wishing to offer assistance to people at war because they break the rules Odysseus who desires to honor the customs of Xenia to the extreme? The only "social norm" he doesn't seem to be dealing with is the direct "heroic" battle and he prefers to use wits to do his bidding. Is that outside the ideal social role? Yes. Was he though encouraged or helped by Athena? The goddess that literally dictates some basic social norms? Also yes. Him not being conformed in one specific pattern is not necessarily sign of disorder otherwise everyone's uniqueness is considered a symptom XD As for the things he steals or takes I remind you the actions were encouraged by Athena or placed up by the circumstances or dictated by prophecies and ironically most of the actions happen in harsh warfare. I doubt anyone would be judged if they stole information from an enemy base to help your side. In fact Odysseus resents the idea of stealing from the cave of Polyphemus and run even if his men want to)

Deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure. ("for personal profit or pleasure" is the key here. When does Odysseus lie and use aliases? When he needs to protect himself or when he needs to protect others for example with the suitors or Polyphemus. I mean who would go in a room full of men who wanna murder you, over 100 of them, and you would say "hey what's up! It is I!" or in Polyphemus? Who wouldn't lie or hide? In other cases when Odysseus hides his identity or lies about it is when he is not certain he is safe. He doesn't lie just to deceive others and get himself gain something that belongs to others -unless we count some versions created in future sources-. His aliases are usually created for some reason and let's be honest in the situations he was in, most of us would have done the same. Even in Philoctetes where he basically says that he would be a chameleon and slither himself in every situation when the situation calls for it, is also an interesting thing to imagine that we often do so as well don't we? We try to form ourselves up to a situation if we need to.)

Impulsivity or failure to plan ahead. (Impulsivity in certain cases is done by everyone. You do take impulsive decisions or do something out of impulse. In order for this to be pathologic one needs to be doing it consistently. Odysseus arguably always plans ahead. He literally planned the whole "I am nobody" trick so that just in case Polyphemus had allies with him the fake name would confuse them, which actually happpened. He also arguably created allies to both Tyndareus and himself with the Oath of Tyndareus. The fact that he didn't calculate Menelaus would use the oath to get Helen back 10 years later I am not sure if it actually counts as "inability to plan ahead". Also miscalculations to a plan can still happen for example not calculate the true magnitude of of the taking of Troy but again I doubt if that counts again as "failiure to plan ahead". Quite frankly his scheme to take Troy was a perfect success. The fact that several of his schemes turn boomerang against him might as well be seen through the spectrum of fate as well. As for certain impulsive things that he does aka reveling his name to Polyphemus one can say who wouldn't have done so if you think the extreme anxious situation that he was under; days and days of psychological torment and extreme anxiety with barely any sleep or proper food and such? Who wouldn't lose control?)

Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults. (Aggressiveness is definitely part of his persona in more ways than one. But of course that is part of multiple psychological conditions including Anxiety and Depression and of course Odysseus even in Iliad was already a 10 year war veteran which again is behavior often seen in those who have been through warfare)

Reckless disregard for safety of self or others. (Regardless of safety? Odysseus? Who is always keeping his men out of harm's way or advises them to do so? At war he gets in battle when it is the best moment for him and his men, in the Odyssey he repeatedly warns them against certain decisions etc. The fact that more often whatnot Odysseus thinks of death or has some reckless or impulsive decision is again not done consistently and we see that we have moments like that in our everyday life as well)

Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations. (Consistent irresponsibility for the man that was basically looked upon every time something bad happened to fix it? The man that always advised others to make good decisions? The man that seems the very definition of "one pays his depts" guy? I would say not. He often speaks on his emotions and mind you the fact that he managed to sustain provisions on Helios's islands and feed 40 men for an elongated amount of time while famish lasted I would say he knows how to manage his economics and such! Hahaha!)

Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another (He bawls his eyes out of remorse in the island of Phaeakes not once but TWICE when he hears a man singing about Troy. Odysseus is not void of emotion or of the essence of right or wrong and he definitely shows remorse for his actions or he knows when he has to admit it for example he knows the act of murder of the suitors was arguably wrong and yet necessary as per Athena's advise as well but again as far as Homer is concerned)

Of course bear in mind that I am no psychologist or psychiatrist so these are my interpretation as someone who is enthusiastic on psychology.

As I said above I think people making Odysseus's lies as something that consists his whole persona as if he has nothing else to offer is wrong in the first place because if one thinks the conditions he lived in he was always on his guard and worried. So even if one speaks on the lies being too many, they are not necessarily a product of ASPD. Lying is also part of others like PTSD or Depression given how many people lie out of fear or worry over something.

That being said if in modern age Odysseus was a survivor of a terrible tragedy and a war veteran on top of that then absolutely he would act on a similar basis as well as others

So instead of that I think one thing I would "diagnose" Odysseus with, again based on the homeric poems mainly would be

PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

For PTSD as per DSM-5:

A. Exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one (or more) of the following ways:

Directly experiencing the traumatic event(s). (Ι mean...no need to elaborate here now do we?)

Witnessing, in person, the event(s) as it occurred to others. (This speaks on its own. He has experienced both trauma at war by being hurt or chased after or under stress or he was raped and used lost and almost died multiple times or witnessed people die around him such as his fellow kings -Ajax- or his comrades)

Learning that the traumatic event(s) occurred to a close family member or close friend. In cases of actual or threatened death of a family member or friend, the event(s) must have been violent or accidental. (He literally met his mother in the underworld who told him she died of sorrow while waiting of him, he saw his comrade Elpenor and he found out he died, he heard that his wife was struggling and that his father lost his mind among others)

Experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to aversive details of the traumatic event(s) (e.g., first responders collecting human remains: police officers repeatedly exposed to details of child abuse). (This part is tricky because as far as the Odyssey is concerned we do not know how often Odysseus was experiencing dreams or flashbacks of what happened although arguably he was always remembering it, for example when he was mistreated by the suitors he was reminding himself to endure because he had endured worse before and he remembers Polyphemus so we can assume he definitely had some close calls with his past and dreams before or at least that he constantly thinks of them)

So as per the B section of DSM we do have the factor of reoccurring memories or dreams. As I said as far as Odyssey is concerned we do not have much on the stimuli through dreams however if I may draw the attention to one of the factors:

Recurrent Involuntary and intrusive distressing memories of the traumatic event(s) (Odysseus cries his eyes out once a heroic song about Troy begins to play. His memory of the war sneaks in to the point that he blows his anonymity and not only that his memory is stimulated enough to say his story and explain himself to the presented members)

As per the C part of it:

C. Persistent avoidance of stimuli associated with the traumatic event(s), beginning after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by one or both of the following:

Avoidance of or efforts to avoid distressing memories, thoughts, or feelings about or closely associated with the traumatic event(s). (Odysseus doesn't want to reveal his identity again. When he is taken in by Nausicaa he hides who he is. He doesn't speak on himself. He avoids the subject altogether. He knows he has little to no possibility to get the help he needs without honoring the part of Xenia law that involves himself to reveal who he is and yet he is not ready to speak up)

Avoidance of or efforts to avoid external reminders (people, places, conversations, activities, objects, situations) that arouse distressing memories, thoughts, or feelings about or closely associated with the traumatic event(s). (Odysseus refuses to take part to athletic activities in Scheria. He doesn't want to blow his cover but also potentially he knows that this brings him memories from the funerary games of the army. He also knows he will always go in full force at what he does so participating would blow his cover and potentially make him reveal who he is, something he avoids)

D. Negative alterations in cognitions and mood associated with the traumatic event(s), beginning or worsening after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by two (or more) of the following:

Inability to remember an important aspect of the traumatic event(s) (typically due to dissociative amnesia and not to other factors such as head injury, alcohol, or drugs). (This one doesn't apply here because Odysseus has a very sharp memory. He explains everything in detail. We also do not see him in Homer abusing alcohol or anything else -and I mean it IS an ancient text after all Homer was no psychologist)

Persistent and exaggerated negative beliefs or expectations about oneself, others, or the world (e.g., “I am bad,” “No one can be trusted,” ‘The world is completely dangerous,” “My whole nervous system is permanently ruined”). (Odysseus often talks with regret about his decisions during his narration but he also expresses rage many times over on the events that took place. He also calls his comrades "mindless" many times over especially on events that marked his trip's outcome such as the sack of Aeolus or the cows of Helios. Of course that is only natural in one essence so it doesn't necessarily need to be a symptom but I am throwing that to the table)

Persistent, distorted cognitions about the cause or consequences of the traumatic event(s) that lead the individual to blame himself/herself or others. (Once more even though Odysseus doesn't specifically speak on cause and effect apart from the mentions we get in the Odyssey but he does seem to try and figure the root of the problem. He is also speaking negatively on himself or speaking on shameful moments of his trip also certain things like Imsarus he just mentions them. He doesn't even get to elaborate those but moments such as Charybdis or Skylla etc were thoroughly described! Or the shipwreck)

Persistent negative emotional state (e.g., fear, horror, anger, guilt, or shame). (Once again explanation not needed; ashamed to be washed by maidens, fear that he might be trapped again, angry and irritated, feeling guilt. All the emotions in the Odyssey are here)

Markedly diminished interest or participation in significant activities. (He is not interested in showing his potential to the Phaeakes or speak of his name or heritage even when he heard the song for the first time so he might have clues that they are positively thinking towards him)

Feelings of detachment or estrangement from others. (He is a stranger, a beggar. He sits in the corner. Most of the time he is silent. He is the oddity in the room. He doesn't become the center of attention till his emotions betray him and he has to speak to the Phaeakes on who he is)

Persistent inability to experience positive emotions (e.g., inability to experience happiness, satisfaction, or loving feelings). (He is crying for seven years at the beach longing for his home. He is rarely ever pictured laughing. His feelings of distrust and anger continue and expand even to his wetnurse whom he feels he has to threaten in order to be on the safe side. He feels betrayed by the gods even as he calls out to Athena and reminds her that she didn't help him when he needed her the most)

E. Marked alterations in arousal and reactivity associated with the traumatic event(s), be ginning or worsening after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by two (or more) of the following:

Irritable behavior and angry outbursts (with little or no provocation) typically expressed as verbal or physical aggression toward people or objects. (Odysseus definitely shows irritable behavior through and through to the Iliad when he beats up Thersites to make an example out of him or when he loses control when Eurylochus hurts his ego by calling out to him for being enchanted by Circe and he basically brings up a painful memory; the Cyclops incident. Odysseus cannot take this and he is ready to literally slay his brother-in-law on the spot and he is stopped by the others)

Reckless or self-destructive behavior. (HERE is where I would put some of that recklessness we see in the Odyssey; Odysseus wishing to rescue his men no matter what; he is ready to fight a goddess with little to no plan to save the little he has left of men after his loss by the Laestrigonians, he is ready to fight Skylla for them, he provokes the suitors to see who is rotten and who is not.)

Hypervigilance. (No explanation needed here! Odysseus constantly sees enemies and reasons to distrust people. He doesn't allow his men near the sack of winds, he remains awake even to do it all by himself. He saw danger to the bay of Laestrygonians and tied his ship outside the bay -and he was proven right-, despite the fact he was in friendly company, he hides himself from the Phaeakes and he constantly tests or measures people, even his wetnurse needs to be threatened in his mind, even the loyal slave Eumeus needs to wait a bit before fully trusted to be placed within the scheme he was planning. Even when the Phaeakes were proven true to him and brought him home, when he woke up and he didn't recognize his own country, his first thought was that the Phaeakes tricked him.)

Exaggerated startle response. (He literally grabs his wetnurse by the throat when she is ready to shout. He is even threatening on top of that to make sure that she will not speak up despite his orders)

Problems with concentration. (This doesn't seem to apply here since Odysseus is hyper focused most of the time either when he tells his story or when he is planning the murder of the suitors)

Sleep disturbance (e.g., difficulty falling or staying asleep or restless sleep). (This one again is tricky since we have no clue but at the moments we see Odysseus sleeping for example during his return, we see him sleep peacefully. We do not see much on nightmares he might or might not have. Perhaps he has some but the thought of his homeland puts him at peace)

Suicidal thoughts are also common and Odysseus thought about ending his own life many times over in the Odyssey; from the moment the sack of winds was opened and he saw his home away once more till the moment he was at Calypso's isle and he was thinking of death daily.

The dude even had a syndrome named after him known as "Ulysses Syndrome" or migrant syndrome of chronic and multiple stress Basically it involves chronic stress especially for people who spent years in anxiety while moving from one place to another (to put it very roughly)

Okay please psychologists and psychiatrists do not come and have my head for this I am only doing this for fictional characters and not for real people, I am just enthusiast of psychology and not an actual psychologist so yeah...guys be gentle with me! XD

But yeah I think this whole thing on "Odysseus is a liar" as if that is his reason of existence or that he is like a pathological liar or that he doesn't have any sort of moral code I feel like it misses the whole point of the homeric hero (although some examples of post-homeric and roman sources might fit that better)

Hope this answers some of your questions dear Anon and sorry this was sooooooo long! Yeah I am normal about that guy! XD

[boopshoops]

No Yan Sim OC questions! (by quartztwst!!)

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Jocia has a mother, father, two brothers, and two sister- no longer with a twin since in order for her to appear, she dies. HOWEVER she is not currently living with them. She's temporarily rooming in an apartment with three other people.

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

Given the blackmail clues Shi left behind in this scenario, it is overly evident that Quartz is one of Jocia's suspects- how MUCh she suspects Quartz comes down to how much and in what manner she interacted with Yuu Shi with- hell, if she was even the one to off her in the first place. She doesn't have any specific thoughts or opinions on Quartz on a personal level, all she has is the constant reminder that she needs to keep watch.

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

...W ho?

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

Student Council: Some of the council members offered apologies for Jocia's loss- particularly Riddle, Kalim, Vil, Idia(though brief), and Malleus given they had worked with Shi to varying degrees. This was enough to leave a decent impression on Jocia, but she hasn't really interacted with them much outside of that.

Music Club: Given these individuals were where most of Yuu Shi's close friends were, they all also offer apologies- some even attempt to befriend Jocia or include her in club activities. As nice as that is- Jocia has denied all offers.

PE Club(s? idk lol): She's showed interest in these clubs, though very mildly- and talked to Leona about it once or twice. She is too caught up in her own goals at the moment, though. Maybe if something changes?

Teachers: Honestly, they're concerned. Her transfer on its own felt... odd, but now she barely attends class or eats or bonds with others at all. They don't know her well, but they know she's up to something potentially dangerous and have occasionally urged her to care for herself better during the hard times.

Others: Again, she just got here. That, and she is much more focused on her own motivations than other people. It is possible to bond with her, sure- but that would force her to realize that she has to allow herself to grieve and heal, and she does not have time for that at the moment. A few other students, though, have paid their respects to her. (I feel its necessary to mention that she looks more intimidating to approach than usual- she's tired, drained, and struggling to care for herself, leaving her more disheveled as time goes on)

and more!! (Feel free to come talk to me about possible interactions with your ocs in this au!! i'll edit this and tag you here however pls know that during the events of the au they will be meeting Jocia for the first time)

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Third year. Junior. She is 18 in this AU.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Apprehend her sister's killer. Protect her family- or make up for the fact that she failed to do so.

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

This would probably be a defining moment where Jocia comes to the conclusion that it was Quartz- (Again, whether she actually killed Yuu Shi or not- Jocia isn't entirely in her right state of mind). Jocia would act out, again, in anger- lashing out at the people around her, and- if anything, making herself look worse in the process. Anger would quickly turn to desperation: listen- she has other siblings to care for. She doesn't want to leave them alone- she left her sister alone, and look how that ended up. It wasn't her, please-

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Jocia would not report this. She would take matters into her own hands once the time is right. Admittedly, yes- she's putting herself in danger, she's not thinking things through properly and fully driven by impulse. However, if she is successful (and doesn't use lethal force) she would report this after incapacitating Quartz.

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

She is often skipping her classes to get familiar with how the school grounds are laid out. Either that or to look for overly suspicious behavior. She has not been eating lunch properly- she just eats what she can once she goes home (The longer she goes like this, there will be more possibilities for an opening to get her off Quartz's ass). This often leaves her alone, but that is typically intentional bait.

10. How are your OC's grades?

Prior to transferring, average- maybe a little lower. Now? Well- she barely goes. They tank quickly.

The brain worms.. tHE BRAIN WORMS..

Anyway no yan sim oc pt. 2 "you offed the sassy cunt" edition.

I will expand more on her mechanics and possible relationships later but please note her character is very exaggerated here and in like- every other setting she'd grieve in a more tame way ok? Ok!

In basic summary of what I have mind, she's like if the delinquent characters actively tried to smite u ✨

TaaaaaAaags wowowowowo

@lowcallyfruity @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere @skriblee-ksk @justm3di0cr3

@techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity

@beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @qsoap @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto

@tixdixl @twstinginthewind @sillyslipperybananapeel @nemisisnemi @jadelover69

[kiymathefreaker]

Married to Slenderman or being his S/O? I hope this isn't too specific! I love my scary husband!!

OOOOH I love this

BEING MARRIED TO SLENDERMAN / BEING HIS S/O

•First of all, I don’t think Slender is a cutie patootie like other people in the fandom hc him as.

•I think he’s a dangerous and ruthless entity which would do anything for power.

•But for his one and only S/O, yeah things change.

•I think being chosen as Slenderman’s S/O is something really special.

•You are his human, you are chosen by Slenderman itself and it should be an honor.

•Okay enough meat riding Slender, back to your request.

•Slender is a busy man, he has many jobs to do and many men to kill.

•But he will always make time for you, his little human.

•He’s supposed to have a meeting with the proxys? Yeah you’re there sitting at the head of the table giving your own ideas.

•He has paperwork to do? You’re sitting on his lap helping him with grouping files.

•I don’t think Slenderman knows how to cook since he never needed it, but he will definitely help you with it.

•He would help you get things from cabinets you are not able to reach, he would help you with grinding and cutting things cause like he has 20 tentacles he can do all of that at once.

•I hc that Slender would be a clean freak, so cleaning by yourself is out of the question for you.

•He would help you clean, probably do a lot of things by himself honestly, and give you tips about what would work best on the mold that has been growing on the walls of your house LMFAOOO.

•He would spoil his lover honestly cause why wouldn’t he?

•He would send the proxys to get you things that you want, would throw feasts for your birthday and special occasions like your anniversaries and stuff.

•He would bathe and feed you when you get tired, would spoil you to death and would not take excuses from you.

•Overall, the would be an affectionate and loving S/O with great communication skills despite not having a mouth LOL.

Its my first time writing for Slenderman so I hope you liked it, Iet me know if you want to see more of this scenario because I feel like I wrote less than I would normally

[seadeepspaceontheside]

I'm sorry if you've been getting harassment! Saw your post and I haven't seen you draw all of those ships but 🫶 I feel Thor and Loki would look very cute in your style ☺️

its every day honestly lol

I am just kinda tired.

i block, they get mad and then make posts about me when though its their dni. people say i blocked them by accident and i draw them something as an apology and they say they avoided my block and me brag to the ppl who hate me.

i just want to draw.

[vidavalor]

While I see some sexuality in the opening title sequence (and at least two other non-sexual ways to interpret that lol), I'm not sure I agree with the interpretation in the post you linked... it flies in the face of the rest of the canon of the show, which is really, really emphatic about the characters having the same, shared lack of preferences where that's concerned.

People can fanon whatever they want, of course, it's all just fun & games, but if you're talking about being true to what's in the canon itself, then I'm at a loss as to why this is still a matter of debate when it's shown across several scenes in both seasons that they both enjoy taking turns being the receptive partner? The playful bickering over taking the train vs. going by car in S2 is a flirty faux-argument over which one of them is going to top the next time they have sex, for just one example?

Thanks for reading/reblogging.💕 re: backchanneling-- yeah. Good rule of thumb here seems to be that if it can be innuendo, it's innuendo lol. The number of people who will look me dead in the internet eye and tell me that 2.06 is the first kiss when so much first-rate both romantic and hot dialogue in this story already exists makes my tired old writer heart cry.

So many are dying for them to fuck or confess or get together or something and they're missing all the sexy bits that already exist. It's not about them getting together-- it's about a forbidden romance. Their happy ending is getting to be openly together but they're already together. The pining/yearning comes from wanting to be safer and to have the open life that others can have, not from never having been together at all.

How can anyone honestly believe they're not already lovers when scenes like this one below exist?! You guys know the innuendo in the bit below is Aziraphale continuing the fun of the sexually euphemistic Bullet Catch and flirtatiously saying that he knew it'd all be fine because Crowley always comes for him, right?!

Thanks for the venting space, @kimberleyjean. I feel better now 😂

"is, and always has been"

In 1.01, The Voice of God said:

Everyone knows that the best place for a clandestine meeting in London is, and always has been, St. James' Park.

Visually, as she's narrating, we see a lot of indication of the type of clandestine meeting to which she's referring being those between intelligence officers, yes?

St. James' Park in Good Omens is swarmed by background characters of people trying to look casual on park benches with newspapers and briefcases and every type of fun, spy movie cliche there is. Our main characters are also spies on different sides of a conflict so we're definitely getting the surface-level vibe of espionage here pretty easily...

...but that's when it's important to note the inclusion of the "is, and always has been" in her narration.

This gives the audience permission to bring into the story the full history of St. James' Park in London when taking into account her meaning. It's encouraging people who do not know this history to go look it up and apply what they learn to the story. [Many of you likely already know this park's history but I have seen a lot of indication in posts that many do not so that's why I made the post.] The line in The Voice of God's narration is worded in such a way that we don't actually fully understand her meaning unless we know more about the history of St. James' Park.

One does not have to do a ton of digging to get the gist of what's being referenced here, though. It doesn't take long with even just the most cursory of skims-- using only the park's entry on Wikipedia as a source, even-- to find this relevant bit of info:

While Charles II was in exile in France under the Commonwealth of England, he was impressed by the elaborate gardens at French royal palaces, and on his ascension he had the park redesigned in a more formal style, probably by the French landscaper André Mollet. A 775-metre by 38-metre (850 by 42-yard) ornamental canal was created as evidenced in the old plan. The king opened the park to the public and used the area to entertain guests and mistresses, such as Nell Gwyn. The park became notorious at the time as a meeting place for impromptu acts of lechery, as described by John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester in his poem "A Ramble in St James's Park".[12]

Should one wish to, I can attest that one can find some very entertaining reading material regarding this period of English history with a little further additional research. The general idea, though, is that, in much wilder times in its history than the last few decades, St. James' Park was absolutely competing for the prize of being history's most notorious hookup park.

By taking pains to include St. James' Park's history with the "is, and always has been" part of the line, the park's history is then reflected in what types of clandestine meetings we're discussing. It makes it clear that we're not just talking about spycraft but also about sex.

And what of the immortal characters The Voice of God is discussing? The ones who were alive and in England during this more amusingly debauched period of St. James' Park's history?

Are Crowley and Aziraphale new to the park, having just started clandestinely meeting here a couple of months or years ago, while St. James' Park has been in its modern, more genteel, spy era?

Definitely not is what we're specifically, emphatically, told by The Voice of God. 😂 They've been backchanneling in these woods for quite awhile now...

[joshuamj]

Linktober Day 8. Tunic

[lale-txt]

heartbreaking! one of your favorite artists makes fun of y/n fics!

[manasurge]

Just a bit of lore relevant vent art (with terrible proportions bc apparently I mess that up horribly when I'm tired ugh. Watch me regret posting this tomorrow. The head size is already driving me mad bc it's too big, and I can feel myself wanting to abort this mission already) of Mourynn just, lying down on top of one of those large elevated Pale Tree roots far above the Grove (and far away from everyone else), and during the time between the early years and before the Personal story. Caithe is gone (Destiny's Edge), Wynne is gone (bc well, y'know...), even Faolain is gone (bc of Caithe in DE), and she's just feeling miserable, lost, and alone. (Her hair is in between her sapling hair and the Zhaitan hair, so it's grown out a bit bc she's depressed, and she's meant to be in the new outfit she designed, but I'm in the process of redesigning it a bit, so I've made a few tentative changes for now. Her collar is now just an extension of her clavicle leaves which can be put up like a collar, or can be draped down over her shoulders or back)

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

Ok I know I'm heavily biased here but like I kinda love that Astarion's romance is one of the few in this type of video game where you basically end up canonically unmarried and childfree in his "good" ending? Just travelling the world??

Like it's honestly the millennial dream lmfaoo cannot believe i chose what would undoubtedly be my favorite option, first try