#but you've got to learn if you want to get by in college or be able to get a job

[ooc-miqojak]

Using a phone is what's clunky. I can accomplish in seconds what takes forever in a phone! You can do multiple processes instead of flipping through tabs on a 2 inch screen. (Plus, then I'm not getting text-neck.) I can flip through multiple tabs in seconds, a single click, instead of pulling open my tiny web browser and opening all my tabs and then clicking. And then, apps aren't plumbing my phone for personal data, either.

And when you get into the work force? You'll be using a desktop. You'll need to know how to use a folder. How to find things quickly on your desktop. You'll need to know shortcuts to quickly accomplish tasks. Command prompts and bios settings and just...right clicking and hitting 'open file location' are all important! You can prefer slower touch screen phones (literally - moving your mouse and clicking is faster, I'm not being pedantic), and the inaccuracy of a touchpad screen that requires multiple attempts to get a word right... but you need to know how to use a PC to get a job... in America, at least. You need to know how to organize your desktop. You need to not just leave everything in the downloads folder, etc.

You also need to realize that 'the Cloud' isn't safe. Putting personal information on the internet isn't safe, and never has been. 'The Cloud' is just someone else's computer. It can be hacked, it can go down, etc - saving important things on a usb or external hard drive is incredibly important if you don't want them to just be gone, or inaccessible one day!

Ultimately, phones have less processing power, less good graphics, and smaller screens - they were intended to be a supplement... not a replacement for desktop PCs. Even laptops aren't as good as having a Desktop PC most of the time! The industry has also tricked people into thinking that building your own PC is hard, because it's cheaper for the consumer to buy parts and build a PC on their own... but it's not a challenge at all these days, especially with guides all over the internet.

With AI on the rise, and Gen Z being left behind/refusing to learn how to use a PC, I'm genuinely worried about their job market being overtaken by AI, since that won't need job training on how to navigate a desktop, or how to use MS Word/Excel. And can you imagine the rising pay for programming jobs, as a whole generation enters the workforce with no idea how to even navigate Windows 10/11... much less how to code? My partner does programming work and its stupid how little work it seems like he does for how much he gets paid, but... the older programmers are retiring, and very few are entering the workforce. So his skills are in high demand... and hilariously/sadly, there's times where a remote call is just him helping an end user navigate their cluttered desktop! Which is FAR from what his job entails.

Phones are objectively clunkier and slower to use - it just feels like a desktop is clunkier because no one taught you how to use it. As someone who has grown up using both kinds of technology at their worst and their best... believe me. Trying to accomplish the same task on my phone just 2 days ago, I gave up bc of how annoying it was, and just went to my computer because it was so much faster! Both things have their merits, but refusing to learn how to use a PC isn't a powermove. It's cutting off your nose to spite your face.

You've got to help yourself, if you weren't taught how to navigate a computer - you've got to ask for help or look up guides, because adulthood is here, and it wants you to have 5 years of experience, and a working knowledge of Miscroft Word and Excel at minimum.

this can't be true can it

[aakeysmash]

maybes and sunscreen

college!sukuna masterlist

after almost a year of living together, you and college!sukuna are so accustomed to one another that you naturally slip up in the other’s conversations. maybe it's because you're both homebodies, or maybe it's because you've reached the silent agreement to keep the activities you do with yuuji hidden to preserve his innocent childhood (you learned that rumors run a long way inside your campus), or maybe it's because you started to ask sukuna less private questions, since he now seems to want to answer them even before you formulate them.

either way, the two of you always mention the other in conversations, and you don't even seem to notice, but your friends do.

"how about your house, man?" suguru asks sukuna from across the table, sipping his soda. they're sitting outside with satoru for lunch break, slouching on white plastic chairs, waiting for practice to start in less than ten minutes. days are getting longer the more summer break gets nearer, and the breeze flowing through the newly green leaves of the trees is a nice change from the humid stench of the locker rooms.

"dunno. the woman of the house is gonna bake cookies today," he shrugs, scrolling through his phone. he finds himself on a blurry zoomed in photo of a kitten covered in milk, and he smirks, hitting send after having selected your contact. you're going to love it.

"and?" geto asks, confused.

"and i don't know if she wants me to help her or not," sukuna continues, not bothering to look up from his screen, acting like he's not going to pester you until you let him help. and steal some of your cookie batter, too.

"it's the finale, bro, we've been talking about it since december. are you really not going to watch it for some cookies?" his raven haired friend exclaims, baffled. satoru only lowers his glasses on his nose, crossing his arms on his chest.

"oh, i'm going to watch it. got her hooked up on it too," the pink haired man says, a certain tilt to his voice matching the tilt of his head, as if he's saying are you crazy? i'm not missing it. "i don't know if she'd want you there, though."

geto rolls his eyes and satoru snickers, shaking his head. "we just want to watch the game on your tv. are you afraid she's going to feel uncomfortable with us there, my lord captain?" he mocks, sighing. lazily, sukuna glances his way.

"it's not her i'm worried about," he says, raising one of his eyebrows, maroon eyes squinting on a spot behind his friend's back.

"what does that even mean?" mutters geto, even more confused. it’s not like they’ve never seen you or have never been inside your house when you were there, so what’s different this time?

suddenly, sukuna grins like a madman, uncrossing his legs from on top of the table and standing up with his helmet under his arm.

“where are you goi-“ his dark haired friend starts, but satoru puts one of his hands on the other’s shoulder, effectively stopping him, whispering just wait.

sukuna takes a couple of steps, getting out of the gentle shadows of the trees above the table, still grinning.

“hi, baby. did you miss me so much you had to come to see me at practice?” he asks your nearing figure. you’re wearing a dress, the breeze soothingly flowing through your hair, and he takes a second to admire how graceful you look in the middle of the green garden. are the flowers you picked with yuuji the other day still fresh? maybe he should get more. maybe you’d like that. maybe you’d smile. maybe you'd thank him.

“i’m here because i knew you were never going to bring sunscreen with you, dickhead,” you huff, blowing your hair out of your vision, frowning. his grin only grows before he forces it away. typical.

“i don’t need that shit,” he rolls his eyes, turning on his heels and going towards the stadium. he knows you’re going to follow him. and you do.

“put it on! i’m not joking, sukuna,” you whine, trying to fall in step with him. “it’s going to be so good for your skin, come on.”

“it’s sticky and i don’t like feeling like a pussy,” he growls, going faster toward the benches inside the stadium and plopping down on them.

“you like pussy, though,” you shrug, forcing yourself between his parted legs, rummaging through your bag.

“i like you too, baby, but that doesn’t mean you’ll let me stick it in your pussy, does it,” he asks you smugly. you punch him on the shoulder, bewildered.

“you’re so disgusting,” you scoff, opening the little spf tube you brought in your purse just for him. "and don't tell me you like me when you never listen to me in the first place," you playfully add, caressing his face to smooth it out, and he lets you get his unruly hair off of his forehead. maybe he likes how you don't take the things he says to heart. maybe he just says them because he knows he's getting a snarky comment back.

“you didn’t say no, though,” he chuckles, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in your presence. your touch on his features is relaxing. he honestly thinks he could fall asleep if you were in any other setting.

“i’m letting you talk just because i’m in a male dominated field and even if i don’t agree i don’t want to die,” you deadpan. you smear the white cream on his nose, on top of the horizontal tattoo, and massage it into his skin. then you do the same thing with his other markings, making sure they’re protected enough to shimmer in the blazing hot sun.

“i wouldn’t let you die on me anyway,” he mutters. he gets both of his hands on your exposed thighs, keeping you closer, softly rubbing his thumbs in your muscles. "are you fucking finished? i hate this," he bites, frowning. you hum, lazily smiling down at him, rubbing his frown away with your fingertips.

"you're going to be the prettiest girl on the field," you coo. you can feel his mean glare from beneath his eyelids, and you almost shiver. "you're so going to thank me in a couple of years," you add, resting your palms on his cheeks and turning his head up. he opens his eyes slowly, staring into yours intently. his thumb catches on the fluttering hem of you dress while he draws little circles on your legs. he hears his coach screaming for his team to start running, but in this moment, he doesn't care that much. maybe the heat is getting to his head. maybe the soft smile you're looking at him with is making him a little bit weak in the knees.

"wanna make cookies today? we can watch the match together, perhaps ask the brat if he wants to join too," he says, rough voice kept low, almost as if this was a you and him kind of thing. maybe he already planned to ask you to do something with him when he was talking to his friends just a couple of minutes ago. maybe he lied, telling them you were the one who chose to do something, when it's not true. maybe the way satoru is patting suguru on the back with an "i told you so" look on his face isn't casual. maybe the one he was worried about all along was himself.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with your friends?" you ask him, tilting your head, positioning your thumbs on the fake tattoos on his cheekbones. almost as if you could cover their pupils and make him see less.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with me?" he genuinely responds, a somber look on his features. you think it's the first time he doesn't have a mocking grin on his lips. you ruffle the pink hair just above his left ear.

"maybe."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in the quiet section

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, established relationship, college!au, smut, p in v sex, semi public sex, caught, unprotected sex

“i didn't even know this part of the library existed.” rafe looks around at the tall bookshelves holding various very large textbooks.

“it's all the polisci books, hence why no one is over here.” you say as you move deeper into the section, to the isolated grouping of tables. you knew you already got lucky convincing your boyfriend to study, you don't want to push your luck by having him get annoyed with other students watching him.

rafe sets his computer bag down and pulls out his laptop, putting his back to the windows so he can keep an eye down the aisles of books, just in case anyone comes wandering by.

“okay.” you sit down next to him, pulling your chair closer. “i know your physics class is hard, but i also suck at physics so i don't know how much help studying im gonna be.”

“just having you here…” rafe trails off. you feel a flush come to your cheeks, rafe always managing to give you butterflies even though you've been together on and off since high school.

“okay.” you clear your throat, knowing you don't really need to be quiet with no one around. only the top floor of the library ever manages to stay silent, all the serious studiers know to immediately take the elevator up. “let's get started on the study guide i got from tiffy.”

your friend had a friend who had a friend who took the same physics class rafe is taking, and of course you convinced them to give you some study materials. it's not like you had to work hard, with rafes reputation on campus being what it is.

rafe nods and turns his attention to the crisp stapled together papers. you work with him through the questions, learning yourself as well for when you have to eventually take the class, wishing you chose a degree that didn't require so much natural science.

your focus shifts between sneaking looks at rafe and helping him, his brow furrowed and jaw hard set as he studies, making him look even more handsome than you thought possible.

“baby-” rafe groans, resorting to a pet name to get your full attention as you blink harshly. “you're distracting me.”

“you're the one being distracting.” you argue back, placing your elbow on the table and resting your chin in your hand, admiring your boyfriend unabashedly now that you've been caught.

“you're the one sitting there with that look on your face.”

“what look?” you hum out, lost in the thought of ripping rafes pants down and-

“that look.” rafe groans. “that fuck me look.”

“well i do want you to fuck me.” you smirk. “i always do.”

“shit.” rafe leans back in his chair, and your eyes naturally move down his defined body, his loose shirt falling into his muscles, his jeans already starting to tent at the crotch.

you move your chair even closer, pressing your lips against rafes jaw. “i want you.”

you place a hand on his thigh, leaving it still for mere seconds before moving up, rubbing over his hardness, feeling ever inch of his length as it grows.

you know he needs relief from pressing against the zipper, undoing the button and pushing the two sides of his jeans further open so you can reach in, gripping his cock over the fabric.

“you're so naughty.” rafe tsks. 

“you're just too hot to resist.” you kiss rafes jaw again, knowing you can't be too obvious above the table, just in case.

your hand moves under the waistband of his boxers, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as your palm presses against his cock, watching with fascination as rafes eyes flutter closed.

“god you can't even go 24 hours without needing me.” rafe smirks, his voice dripping with cockiness.

truth is, it's been less than 12 hours since you spread your legs for rafe last night, moaning and holding back screams as he pumped into you in your shared dorm room, having paid off the university to get you on the married couples floor despite not having a ring on your finger.

you ignore the urge to pull rafes cock out and drop your mouth around him and slurp and suck for anyone to hear.

you stand up suddenly, making rafes body physically jerk as he loses the sensation of your touch.

you move around the table, humming softly to yourself as you make your way down the aisle directly in front of rafe, bending down, feigning looking for a book on the bottom shelf.

you know damn well your short skirt is putting your underwear on display for rafe as you grab a book with one hand while pulling your underwear down with the other, revealing your already wet pussy.

you let your panties fall to the ground as you stand up, book in hand. you snatch them off the ground and make your way back to rafe, whose mouth might as well be watering with the intense look of hunger and need on his face.

you drop the book onto the table, letting it clatter as you stuff your underwear into rafes jean pocket.

“cock out.” you hum.

rafe listens quickly, not usually one to follow yours or anyone else's orders, but he certainly won't push back against this one as he shoves his underwear down to underneath his balls, his cock standing at attention and ready for you.

you step between him and the table, rafes hands coming to grab your hips and stop you from sitting down too quickly. he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your cheeks over your skirt, hard enough to leave a bite mark and have you swallowing a moan.

rafe tugs you down, retaking control of the situation as he pushes you onto his cock in one smooth motion, and this time you can't help the sound that escapes your mouth, a whine of pleasure and pain as your walls are instantly stretched.

“you think you'd be used to me by now.” rafe chuckles in your ear, pushing you forward to rest your elbows against the table.

to anyone walking by, it would look like you were studying while sat on your boyfriends lap, and with your boyfriend being rafe, most people would scurry quickly away, not paying enough attention to realize your hips are moving up and down and rafe is gripping one of your thighs tightly while his other arm is wrapped around your waist.

“shit.” rafe moans quietly. “you're so warm.”

the air whooshing over your behind every time your skirt flounces as you move up and down adds to the shiver that runs down your spine.

“this is why-” you gasp as you sit up a little straighter to make it easier to bounce on his cock, feeling your pussy swallow him in with every movement inwards before gripping like your body doesn't want to be apart when you try to move. “this is why we never get any studying done.”

“because you're a whore for my cock?” rafe chuckles, his voice quiet as footsteps are heard, but they continue up the stairs to a different floor.

“because you always look too fucking good to not let you fuck me.”

rafes hips begin to snap upwards with the compliment. he's never had a problem getting girls, and experimented with other women during your breaks, but nobody moves him the way you do, you're the only one he can stand being with for any time longer than a night, the only one whose opinion he really cares about.

you're no longer being so subtle as your fingers dig into the wood grain of the table as rafes hands grip your hips, helping you move up and down in time to his hips raising up off the chair.

“you're gonna walk out of here filled with my cum.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face, knowing how much he loves marking his territory and leaving his claim on you.

“and you're gonna walk out of here with my wetness covering your cock.” you also smile, just as territorial as rafe is. you knew he was the one for you when no other cock could satisfy you, always wishing it was rafe until you got back together, your very last time apart.

“damn right.” rafe hums, hands fisting and gathering bunches of your skirt up so he can watch your ass as it moves, jiggling every time you sit fully down on his length.

“fuck.” you groan, body drooping forward as the elevator dings. you can hear the doors open as someone gets off on your floor.

you sit up straighter as rafe leans in, letting your skirt fall back around you, hiding the fact that he's inside of you at this very moment.

you listen closely as whoever it is walks down an aisle before getting a book off the shelf. you hope they'll walk away, but instead they continue towards your table until you see a college kid with headphones on you've never seen before.

you hope he'll see the two of you and flee, but he doesn't seem to notice as he sets his bag down on a chair before pulling out the one next to it.

“rafe…” you whisper as you feel his hips start to rock back and forth. “ssss… stop.”

you're not really concerned about a student seeing you, but you really don't want anyone to report you to the library.

“hey, kid.” rafe calls out, making the student jolt in surprise and look up, eyes widening as he realizes who he's looking at, but hopefully not what.

“fuck out of here.” rafe says, and the kid runs away and down the stairs faster than you thought possible.

“such a dick.” you chuckle, immediately beginning to move.

“says the one bouncing on my dick right now.” rafe chuckles. “you wanted him gone too.”

you place your hands on the table, ignoring rafes teasing as he starts to push up into you, putting all the strength you have left in your tired legs into your movements.

rafe reaches around your front and presses two fingertips against your clit, rubbing harshly knowing he can't last much longer and needs to get you there too, wanting to cum together.

“f-fuck.” you whine out, voice turning high pitched. “please. close.” you manage to say.

rafes cock swells inside of you and you can tell that he's not far either as he delivers a few finishing thrusts into your wet pussy before he bursts with a moan of your name, cum pumping into you as his fingers continue at the same pace.

you smack your ass down against his lap as you cum, his cock pushing so far inside of you that you swear he's in your womb.

his fingers play with your pulsing clit as you ride out your highs together until you suddenly become sensitive, having to shove his hand away to keep from crying out.

you are both breathing heavily, you slumped forward against the tabletop while rafe is slack against the back of the chair.

“shit.” rafe chuckles. “i completely forgot everything we just studied.”

you clench your pussy to keep from leaking as you pull off his cock, moving quickly to the seat next to you as your thighs almost immediately give out.

“well.” you lean back, both looking exhausted. “i'm gonna need a while before i can walk, so get back to it.”

rafe redoes his pants and leans forward to look back at the study guide, resigning to his fate as your eyes droop closed.

[jellybonbons]

Shared Apartment, Shared Feelings

Leon Kennedy x gn afab!reader

CW: 18+ (mdni), virgin reader, college roommate au, retired fuckboy!leon, vendetta trio (chris, leon & rebecca), talks about virginity/relationship/trauma (car accident), fluff/angst/smut, a lot of kissing, dick piercing, oral job (afab receiving), pussy slapping, thigh jobs, aftercare.

Words: 7.4k

A/N: special thanks to my wife @roseglazedlens for beta reading and helping me with the banners <3 muah muah

Without a doubt, college is such a drag. It’s a wonder you haven’t given up on yourself already, with all the assignments piling up, submissions one after another, professors breathing down your neck, dealing with crappy groupmates and customers from your part-time job. But here you are, almost three years deep into your degree, with no turning back now.

You sighed, feeling the strain in your fingers from typing away all day. The pressure was real with an assignment due in just a few days. You tried to unwind with a book and music, but the impending thought of reading through another paragraph might just make your head explode. 

It’s been known that college can get pretty lonely at times. Sure, you've got friends here and there, but they're all caught up in their own stuff, on top of all that, their partners. This is when you wish you had one yourself. You've had your fair share of relationships or flings in the past, but it never really went beyond first base – blame it on your commitment issues and insecurities.

Virginity is a funny thing, isn't it? Some people don't really give it much thought, while others, like yourself, see it as a significant part of who they are. To you, it's more than just a physical state – it's about vulnerability, about letting someone in and truly being seen. Maybe that's why your relationships never seem to last long. You realise now that you settled for them, not for yourself. You were caught up in the idea of a relationship rather than being honest with yourself about what you truly wanted and needed. 

Heading into college, you finally found yourself crushing on someone – your roommate, Leon Kennedy. Your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. It started with your classmate-turned-friend, Rebecca Chambers, asking if you wanted to live with her and two of her friends since they had an extra room. Without hesitation, you agreed – after all, why not? Splitting the rent between four people and having a bigger apartment than your current one sounded like a win-win. But when you finally met her two friends, it felt like you stumbled upon an adorable squirrel with her two guard dogs.

You could definitely say that Leon and his other friend, Chris Redfield, were pretty protective of her, but Rebecca reassured them that she trusted you and thought you were a lovely person – bless her heart. From that day on, the tension slowly dissipated, and all of you learned how to live with each other, quirks and all. If there was ever a disagreement, Chris would call for a 'family meeting' to sort things out.

You've grown close to both Chris and Rebecca, but with Leon, it's different. He's close, yet there's still a sense of distance.

—

Exhibit A: 

The huge, comfortable couch in the living room was decorated with a mismatched assortment of decorative pillows, giving the area a homely, well-worn feel. The walls were covered in posters of bands, and a shelf next to it held a tidy collection of DVDs. Game controllers, remote controls, and empty food wrappers were frequently strewn all over the coffee table – no matter how many times Rebecca told Chris and Leon to clean them up. The room had the ideal ambience for movie evenings thanks to the floor lamp's warm glow and the fairy lights. 

You noticed that Leon would always have your favourite snacks on hand, without you even needing to ask. But then again, he made sure to get snacks for everyone else too. You never once mentioned your favourite snacks to him – you guess he might have overheard you talking to Rebecca in the dining area while he was playing video games with Chris in the living room that one time.

"Here," Leon said, passing you the brightly wrapped package after doling out snacks to the others.

“Thanks,” you said, taking them from Leon. “How did you know these are my favourites?”

He shrugged casually. “Maybe I'm just good at picking up on things.” 

"But I've never told you," you pointed out, genuinely curious.

Leon hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got my ways of finding out,” he replied cryptically before turning away to grab a drink.

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by his response. “Oh, well, thanks again.”

"Oh my god! It's been so long since I've eaten those," Rebecca, who was cuddled up next to you, exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she gazed at your snacks. You chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"You want some?" you offered, opening the snack package. 

"Yes, please!" she eagerly replied.

If you had turned back, you would have noticed Leon's ears turning a faint shade of red, but you were too focused on sharing the snacks with Rebecca to notice his reaction.

Exhibit B: 

Amidst the chaos of exam week, you and Chris had taken over the living room for a study session. Notes, textbooks, and Post-it notes were strewn everywhere, creating a cluttered workspace. Rebecca had wisely chosen to isolate herself in her room, knowing that if she joined you two, it would devolve into gossip rather than studying. As for Leon, he preferred the solitude of studying alone.

By 2 am, Chris had already succumbed to exhaustion, snoring away on the couch. Meanwhile, you were hunched over your notes on the floor, frustration building as you re-read the material for what felt like the hundredth time. A headache was starting to form, exacerbated by the late hour and Chris' snoring.

Lost in your work, you didn't notice Leon's quiet approach until he set a hot mug of green tea on the coffee table beside you. "Take a break," he said casually, before moving over to Chris and gently nudging him awake, signaling that it was time for him to call it a night.

"Hey, wake up," Leon whispered.

Chris grunted in response, rolling over to his side and snoring loudly. Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes and deliver a – gentle – punch to Chris's arm, hoping it would be enough to jolt him awake.

"Ouch! Damn, Leon, that hurts," Chris groaned, rubbing his arm where Leon had punched him.

Leon, unapologetic, raised an eyebrow at Chris. "Maybe if you didn't snore like a freight train, I wouldn't have to resort to violence." 

Chris, still rubbing his arm, shot you a playful glare. "Well, if someone didn't study so quietly, maybe I wouldn't need to fill the room with my soothing snores."

"Don't look at me, I'm just trying to study peacefully," you retorted, raising your hand in mock surrender while cradling the mug in your other.

"Yeah, right. Your snores are like lullabies, Chris. I almost fell asleep while making my late-night snack,” Leon said with a slight smirk. 

Chris mockingly gasped. "You wound me, Leon. My snores are an art form." 

You chuckled. "Well, gentlemen, whether it's an art form or a lullaby, it's time for the masterpiece to take a break. Chris, go get some beauty sleep." Chris nodded.

"You too, don't stay up too late," Leon said to you, shooting a glance in your direction before grabbing Chris by his shirt.

"I'm up, I'm up," Chris protested, his voice muffled as Leon playfully put him in a headlock and guided him towards his room.

You couldn't help but chuckle at their antics, taking another sip of your tea as you watched them disappear down the hallway.

—

You found yourself in a dilemma. Leon had always been just a friend, but lately, you couldn't shake off the growing attraction you felt towards him. It wasn't just his physical appearance that drew you in, although his blue eyes, his piercings and the little details about him were certainly captivating. It was the way he was always there for you, that’s what friends are for, right?

You discovered that you couldn't stop thinking about him, day or night. His presence seemed to linger in your mind, occupying your thoughts even when you were supposed to be focusing on something else. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his video game strategies or the way he would absentmindedly run his hand through his hair when he was deep in thought. And those moles scattered across his skin, you found yourself itching to trace your fingers over them, to memorise every little detail of him. 

But despite your growing feelings, you were hesitant to act on them. You cherished the ‘friendship’ you shared with Leon and you were afraid of risking it by admitting your true feelings. So for now, you kept your emotions buried deep within, hoping that they would eventually fade away – but they didn’t.

— 

Leon had been sceptical when Rebecca first introduced you to him and Chris. He thought you might have ulterior motives, using her to get closer to him for his body. After all, he had a reputation as a fuckboy, although he considered himself a retired one now. That's why both him and Chris were so protective of her; he didn't want to drag Rebecca into his messy past again.

However, Leon was genuinely surprised when he discovered that you didn't know much about his past. While you were aware of his existence, you weren't deeply immersed in campus drama, preferring to spend your time online with other interests. You treated him like any other person, and he found himself grateful for that. In the past, he had been the worst version of himself, indulging in alcohol, weed, and sex, using his body to get whatever he wanted. But hey, in this economy, whatever works. 

He had grown accustomed to people using him, whether it was for physical gratification or emotional support. It was the darkest chapter of his history, and his once-close friendship with Chris and Rebecca had deteriorated to the point where they were practically strangers, but that was six months ago. Now they were back to being three peas in a pod, their bond stronger than ever.

Then came that one fateful night – that one awful night – when he had drunk too much and made the reckless decision to drive home while intoxicated from a party. What great friends he had. 

As Leon stirred awake in the hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of machines punctured the air, accompanied by the clinical scent of antiseptic. His gaze fell upon Rebecca, slumbering peacefully in a chair beside his bed, though the fatigue evident in the bags beneath her eyes spoke of restless nights spent by his side. Summoning what little strength he could muster, he attempted to rouse her with a feeble movement of his finger.

Suddenly, Chris burst into the room, bearing two cups of coffee in hand. The sight of Leon awake nearly caused him to fumble the cups, hastily setting them down on a nearby table before rushing to his friend's bedside with evident concern. Rebecca, startled by Chris's sudden entrance and booming voice, blinked awake in a daze.

“Leon, you’re awake!” Rebecca's smile lit up the room as she clasped Leon's uninjured hand in hers.

Leon attempted to speak, but his dry throat betrayed him. Swift to notice, Chris quickly retrieved a water bottle and a straw for Leon. While Rebecca, with practised ease adjusted the bed to a more comfortable position, allowing Leon to sit up slightly. As soon as the straw touched his lips, Leon didn't hesitate to take a much-needed sip, the cool water soothing his parched throat.

Once he had quenched his thirst, Leon managed a weak smile of gratitude, his gaze shifting between Chris and Rebecca. "Thanks, guys," he murmured hoarsely, his voice still rough from disuse. 

"Was anyone else hurt?” he asked anxiously, recalling the events of the previous night with a sense of dread. He knew he had made a terrible mistake by driving under the influence, and he dreaded the thought of anyone else being harmed because of his actions. 

Chris exchanged a glance with Rebecca before answering, his expression sombre. "It was just you, Leon," he replied gently, placing a comforting hand on Leon's shoulder. "You're lucky, man. Could've been a lot worse."

Rebecca nodded in agreement, her worry evident in her eyes. "We're just glad you're okay," she added softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

For once in his life, he let his tears flow freely, openly crying in front of them. There were many reasons for his tears, but two stood out: their unwavering support despite his past behaviour and the stark realisation of how close he came to losing everything. It felt like a wake-up call, a sign that he needed to change his ways.

As both Chris and Rebecca leaned in for an embrace, he felt the warmth of their love enveloping him. That moment marked a new beginning for them. They took turns caring for him, offering support and encouragement every step of the way. And with their help, he began to see a therapist to address his trauma and work through his issues, determined to become a better version of himself.

He knew he wasn't perfect, but he was steadily making progress.

—

You were like a breath of fresh air, bringing a sense of normalcy to Leon's life outside his close circle of friends. The more he observed you, the more smitten he became. He found himself falling hard for you, enchanted by the melody of your voice and the way your smile lit up the room. Even when you laughed at his silly jokes while Chris and Rebecca remained unimpressed, it only deepened his infatuation. From your quick wit to your undeniable charm, he felt like a lovesick puppy in your presence. 

Many moments with you left a lasting impression on Leon. One night, he had fallen asleep on the couch, and you had just returned from a night shift. Spotting Leon asleep, you crept, careful not to disturb him. You gently placed your belongings on the dining table before quietly slipping into his room to retrieve a blanket.

You returned with the blanket and draped them over him, ensuring he stayed warm throughout the night. As you crouched down beside him, you couldn't resist the urge to tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, smiling softly at the peaceful expression on his sleeping face. 

As you quietly left the room and retreated to your own, Leon being the light sleeper he was, felt a rush of emotions flooding through him. His heart raced as he became aware of your proximity, even in his slumber. The gentle touch of your hand and the warmth of your presence lingered in his mind, leaving him feeling strangely comforted yet unsettled all at once. It was a moment he couldn't shake, stirring something within him that he couldn't quite put into words.

These mixed emotions were still present during another memorable moment, when you, Chris, Rebecca, and Leon gathered for a pizza dinner. Chris, in his usual generous fashion, ordered a variety – cheese, pepperoni, and BBQ pizzas. The living room transformed into a makeshift dining area as you all settled in to watch a movie while enjoying the feast. Despite the lively atmosphere, Leon found himself quietly observing you, the feelings from the previous night still lingering in his mind, adding a layer of depth to the otherwise ordinary gathering.

Whatever, he shook his thoughts away.

As the pizza boxes opened, Leon grabbed a slice of the BBQ pizza, only to discover a surplus of onions. His displeasure was evident and despite his efforts to discreetly pick off the offending toppings, the struggle did not go unnoticed by you.

Your laughter bubbled up as you observed Leon's onion-removing antics. "Not a fan of onions, huh?" you teased.

"Nah, I don’t like the extra crunch," Leon replied, continuing to pick them off.

You extended your plate towards him. "Just give them to me; I like onions," you offered with a smile.

"Really? Thanks," Leon responded, handing you the onion-laden slices.

"You need to stop being such a picky eater, Leon," Chris chimed in between bites of his pizza.

Leon shook his head defiantly. "Nope, not happening," he retorted, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Rebecca joined in, adding with a playful grin, "Hey, at least now we know who the real onion lover is around here!" 

After your laughter died down, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at Leon – you loved onions, but little did they know that you had a particular disdain for red onions.

Despite all this, Leon couldn't shake the memories that haunted him. Beneath the surface of his laidback demeanour lay a vulnerability he had yet to reveal to anyone outside his close circle of friends.

It was a sunny morning as you and Leon walked side by side to class, chatting idly about your schedules. But then your conversation was abruptly interrupted by the screech of tyres from behind, a sharp, piercing sound that seemed to echo through Leon's bones.

Without warning, Leon's steps faltered, his body freezing in place as his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened with fear, his muscles tensing as if preparing for impact.

You sensed the shift in his demeanour immediately, instincts kicking in as you turned to face him, concern etched across your features. "Leon?" you called softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Don't," he said sharply, his voice tinged with a mixture of desperation and frustration. "Please, just... don't touch me."

You froze, your heart sinking at the rejection. You had never seen Leon react like this before, and the realisation only fueled your determination to help him.

"Okay," you said softly, pulling your hand back. "I won't touch you. But I'm here, Leon. You're not alone."

Leon's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to regain control of his racing thoughts.

Thinking quickly, you searched for another way to reach him. You remembered the breathing exercises you learned from the internet, the rhythmic pattern designed to calm the mind in moments of distress.

"Leon," you said gently, your voice a steady anchor in the storm of his panic. "Listen to me. We're going to try something, okay? Just focus on my voice."

Leon nodded hesitantly, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

"Close your eyes," you instructed, your own voice calm and measured. "Now, take a deep breath in through your nose... and out through your mouth. Good. Now, let's do it again. In... and out."

Together, both of you repeated the breathing exercises; Leon's tense muscles gradually relaxing with each steady breath. You kept your voice low and soothing, guiding him through the process with gentle encouragement.

The chaotic noise of the campus faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your shared breaths. And with each passing moment, Leon felt the grip of panic loosening its hold, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.

"Thank you," Leon whispered as he finally opened his eyes, his voice hoarse with overwhelming emotions.

 "Anytime.” You smiled softly at him.

—

You were attractive, considerate, attentive, but sometimes sarcastic — all the more reason to love you. So imagine his surprise when, during one of your deep conversations, you dropped the bombshell: "I'm still a virgin."

Leon's reaction was immediate. "Wait, what?" His eyes widened in disbelief, and he nearly choked on the iced tea Rebecca had made for everyone.

You couldn't help but smirk at his reaction, finding his surprise somewhat amusing. "Yeah, I know, right?" you replied casually, trying to downplay the moment. "Just never felt the rush, I guess."

Leon's expression softened, his initial shock giving way to an understanding. "Well, that's... unexpected," he admitted, his voice laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "But hey, it's your choice, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah," you said, taking a sip of the iced tea. You couldn't help but grimace as the sweetness hit your taste buds; Rebecca had gone a bit overboard with the sugar again. “I guess, I just have a hard time trusting people to truly see me, you get it?” you said, revealing a vulnerability that Leon hadn't seen before. 

“Just the idea of letting someone see a vulnerable side of you and then, things fall apart, and that person is not in your life anymore... it's terrifying."

Leon nodded thoughtfully, the flicker of a reassuring smile appearing on his lips. "I get it," he responded softly, his eyes reflecting understanding. 

"It's hard to open up when you've been hurt before. But not everyone is the same, you know? And sometimes, taking that risk can lead to something beautiful."

"Yeah, but I’m not ready to take that risk," you pondered, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Leon leaned forward, his expression gentle. "That's okay," he said. "It's all about timing, and when you're ready, you'll know. Until then, just focus on being true to yourself." If the old Leon heard this, he would cringe in disgust at how poetic he has become. 

“Aw, look at you, Mr. Wise man,” you teased, playfully punching his shoulder.

“Hey, I have experience, okay,” he chuckled, offering a playful wink. "Life's full of surprises, and you never know when the right person might come along." Leon thought to himself, hoping silently that he could be that person for you.

To be your person — it was a dream he cherished deeply. He already felt privileged enough to see you with your dishevelled hair every morning, to enjoy the breakfasts you made, to hear you humming to yourself as you cleaned the apartment, and to witness all the little quirks that made you... you.

Like the way you always insisted on starting your day with a cup of hot warm water because of its health benefits. Or how you had a habit of tapping your fingers on any surface whenever you were anxious. The way you collect little trinkets and gift them to others because they reminded you of them, or how you could never resist stopping to take pictures of the sky when it looked especially pretty. The way you scrunch your nose when you laugh, and how you always double-knot your shoelaces because "you can't be too careful,” even though they somehow always come undone, so he has to tie them for you again — cue to Rebecca and Chris giggling quietly at the back.

“Yeah, who knows?” you replied with a smile, stopping him from his daydreaming state. 

Leon looked into your eyes, a gentle warmth spreading through his chest. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you at that moment. Your smiles softened, and a comfortable silence settled between you. Time felt like it slowed down as you both gazed at each other, the unspoken words and hidden shared feelings hanging in the air.

However, the moment was cut short when cock-block Chris slid the balcony doors open, surprising you guys. 

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," Chris said, his voice breaking the momentary silence. "But I thought you might want to join us for board games. Rebecca's been bugging me to drag you both inside.”

You chuckled at Chris's interruption. "Sure, sounds like fun," you replied, shooting a playful glance at Leon.

Leon grinned in response, a twinkle in his eye as he nodded in agreement. "Let's go then," he said, rising from his seat and motioning for you to follow. 

“Can’t wait to beat you in Monopoly,” you added with a mischievous grin, earning a playful scoff from Leon.

“Dream on,” Leon replied with a playful smirk, grabbing both his and your drink before heading back inside.

“Hey, we know Rebecca is the master of Monopoly,” Chris chimed in.

"Yeah, you’re right, she always bankrupts us within the first hour," you agreed with a laugh.

"Alright, let's see if we can finally overthrow the reigning champion," Leon said with determination, leading the way back inside.

—

You should have been spending your weekend with friends, but alas, the call of assignments beckoned you to spend the week in your room. Your fingers moved on autopilot as you typed away on your laptop, nearing the end of your essay. All that remained were the conclusion and the references. 

This was the second time you had to redo this assignment. Your professor, Dr. Wesker, critiqued it during the tutorial, and it fell short of his expectations, so you had to incorporate the points you had missed. You made a mental note to give him three stars in the end-of-semester review – that being generous — and to punch Chris because he said Wesker’s class was easy. No, it was not; Wesker made sure to run the class like the Navy.

As the evening turned into night, you fueled your essay-writing spree with a touch of spite. The anticipation of going to the new jazz bar in your area with your friends was the added motivation. Empty instant coffee cans littered your desk, proving your determination. In the apartment, it was just you and Leon; Chris was visiting his sister, Claire, while Rebecca was out on a date with Billy. Helping Rebecca get ready had only made you more jealous of her evening out. Ever the sweetheart, she noticed you were down and promised to bring back treats for you as a reward.

The apartment felt unusually quiet, with only the hum of your laptop and the distant sounds of city life filtering through the windows. The silence was a stark reminder of the fun you were missing out on. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing Leon was just in the other room, a silent presence that somehow made the tedious task of essay writing a bit more bearable.

However, the universe was not on your side as your old laptop finally decided to give up on you. Despite all your efforts — charging, troubleshooting, and pleading — it refused to turn back on. "No, no, no, no!" you exclaimed, punctuating each word with a frustrated slam of your hand against the desk. Scratch that, Dr. Wesker is getting only one star and a long paragraph in the comment section.

Hearing the commotion from Leon’s bedroom, he paused his game and rushed into your room. "What happened?!" he asked, concern etched on his face.

You looked at him with tears streaming down your face. "My laptop won't open," you said.

His face softened as he approached you. "I'm assuming you've tried everything," he remarked.

"Yes!" you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Leon reassured you, his tone soothing. "What did you use to do your assignment on?" he inquired, rolling your chair closer to him and kneeling down in front of you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Google Docs," you replied.

He nodded reassuringly. "Okay, they have an auto-save feature, so your work is still there. In the meantime, you can use mine." Leon wiped away your tears with his thumb. "I know a guy who can fix your laptop, so you don't have to worry."

Leon's comforting touch eased your tension slightly. "Thanks," you said, your voice wavering with emotion. "I'm sorry for lashing out. It's just….it’s been a stressful week."

He offered you a sympathetic smile. "No need to apologise," he said softly. "We all have our moments.”

"You're too good for me," you whispered, your gratitude evident in your eyes.

Leon's sympathetic expression softened further as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Hey, don't say that," he replied earnestly. "You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend. And if you ever need someone to talk to or help you through tough times, I'm here for you, always.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” you said softly as you wiped the remaining tears away.

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the sound of the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the soft rhythm of your breathing. Then, you hesitated before speaking again.

"Leon... there's something I've been meaning to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we're friends, but... lately, I've been feeling something more. I can't shake this feeling that there's something between us, something deeper?"

Leon's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he didn't interrupt as you continued.

"I understand if you don't feel the same way," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush as you fidget with your fingers, feeling vulnerable and exposed. "I just needed to get it off my chest."

For a moment, there was only silence as Leon processed your words. Then, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, stopping you from fidgeting. On the inside, he was literally jumping up and down and screaming internally. His heart raced with excitement and joy, but he kept his composure, squeezing your hand gently to convey his feelings.

“I... I've been feeling the same way," he admitted quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "I didn't know if you felt the same, but… I've been wanting to tell you how I feel for a while now." His hands felt warm against your cold ones, a reassuring touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

"But are you sure you want to be with someone like me? I’m a bit damaged,” he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of insecurity. As you shared a tender gaze, his vulnerability spilled out. 

"At the same time… I want to be with you. You keep me grounded, and every day I feel like I'm becoming a better version of myself because of you. But I don’t want to burden you with my baggage."

Your heart swelled with affection as you reached out to cup his face, gently wiping away the traces of doubt etched there. "Leon, I see you, all of you, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Being damaged doesn’t make you any less worthy of love and happiness. We all have our scars and struggles. What matters is that you’re taking steps to heal, to become the best version of yourself. And I want to be there for you, every step of the way.”

At that moment, Leon knew he couldn't let his fears hold him back any longer.

Leon’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. The world seemed to stand still as he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a passionate heartfelt kiss. His hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to be apart. 

The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions he couldn’t put into words—  the love, the gratitude, the desire. His lips moved against yours with fervent need, and as you responded, you could feel the weight of his insecurities lifting, replaced by the warmth of your mutual affection. 

Breaking the kiss, Leon scooped you up from your chair with ease, his arms strong and secure around you. He carried you to your bed and gently laid you down, his gaze never leaving yours. The tenderness in his eyes spoke volumes as he caressed your face.

"You mean everything to me, and I want to be the one you can always rely on." He leaned in for another kiss, sealing his promise with the warmth of his embrace. “Just how I can rely on you.”

When Leon's words settled in, you felt a rush of emotion swell in your chest. You reached up, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your touch and moving down to his neck where his moles were. The tenderness in his eyes was almost overwhelming, and you could see the sincerity behind every word he had spoken.

Leon let out a gasp as your fingers continued their gentle exploration, the touch feeling soft and human against his skin. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone touched him so tenderly. Letting out a sigh of contentment, he buried his face against your neck, inhaling your familiar scent—the comforting mix of laundry detergent and coffee, so wonderfully homey.

“God, you don’t know how much you've softened me.” He chuckled softly, his lips trailing kisses along your neck.

You couldn't help but tease him, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "Big, tough Leon going all soft on me?"

He lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a grin. "Yeah, you have that effect on me," he admitted. "Never thought I'd be saying that."

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. "Well, I kind of like this softer side of you," you teased, your eyes sparkling. "Makes me feel special."

"You are special," Leon whispered, his expression turning serious. "More than you know."

“Leon…I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady but your heart racing.

“Ready for what, sweetheart?” he asked, the endearment rolling off his tongue naturally. He liked how it felt, unlike the generic terms, ‘Babe’ and ‘Baby’ he had used for his past flings when he didn’t bother to remember their names.

“Ready… for you to take my virginity.”

Leon’s eyes widened slightly before he softened, his expression filled with tenderness. "Oh… you're so precious. Not now, okay? I want to take you out on a date first."

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted gently. “I can make you feel good without taking it…do you trust me?”

“I do,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth.

“Then just relax," he said softly. "I’m here, and I’ll gladly help you release your stress.”

Without another word, Leon closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate, desperate kiss — a culmination of months of longing and pent-up desire. All your worries and stress melted away as you sought solace in each other’s embrace.

As the kiss deepened, Leon’s hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer with a strong need to please you. The hunger and longing that had built up over the months drove you both, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity neither of you had ever felt before.

Leon’s fingers deftly found the hem of your sweater, slowly lifting it up and over your head. As your bare skin met the cool air, a wave of shyness washed over you. Instinctively, you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to cover yourself. 

Leon paused, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and gentle reassurance. He reached out, his hands gently removing yours from your chest. “Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm. “You’re beautiful, and I want to see all of you.” He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, and you felt your body relax under his touch, trusting him completely.

“Leon…” 

With a reassuring smile, Leon stepped back slightly and grasped the hem of his own shirt. In one smooth motion, he pulled it over his head, revealing the defined lines of his chest, the faint scars that marked his skin, and the tantalising happy trail leading down from his naval.

“See? Nothing to be shy about.” Leon had come so far, enduring countless battles, to reach this moment of vulnerability and softness with you.

You nodded, your cheeks flushing at the sight of his happy trail peeking through his sweatpants. His lips, slightly swollen from your shared kisses, only added to the heat coursing through you. The mere thought of kissing him had you feeling an ache between your legs — maybe those cringy scenes in films about virgin sex aren’t so fake after all. As you squeezed your thighs together unconsciously, he chuckled softly and gently pulled them apart.

"You okay there?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

You laughed nervously, trying to mask your embarrassment. "Yeah, just... overwhelmed, I guess."

Leon's chuckle deepened. "I'd say that's a good sign," he teased, his fingers tracing a soothing pattern on your thigh. "But let's take it slow, okay?"

Leon's fingers trailed along the curve of your thigh, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. "Have you ever... touched yourself before?" he asked softly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his question, the sensation of his touch combined with the intimacy of his inquiry making your heart race. "Um, well... yeah," you replied hesitantly, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

Leon's touch became even more tender, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he leaned in closer. "Tell me about it," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to know everything."

“I... I just use my fingers,” you confessed, feeling a little embarrassed by the simplicity of your answer. You found yourself rambling about the prices of sex toys and how impractical they seemed, but Leon's attention was elsewhere as he trailed his fingers down to your clothed heat.

With unabashed hunger, he traced his fingertips over the fabric shielding your wetness, sending shivers through you. He moved lower, his mouth finding your inner thighs, licking and biting gently, his breath hot against your skin.

As you continued to ramble with hitched breaths, Leon nodded along, occasionally responding with a thoughtful "hmm" here and there. His lips pressed against your clothed mound and his tongue piercing tracing circles over the fabric. Each teasing lick and swirling motion sent shivers coursing through your body.

“Leon, fuck,” you moaned, bucking your hips toward his face.

His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he slid down your underwear, revealing your glistening folds. His tongue darted out, flicking against your swollen clit while his hands moved to your hips, holding you in place.

Leon savoured the taste of your arousal, relishing how you quivered beneath him, desperate for more. His lips closed around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue worked in skilled motions. As your moans filled the room, he intensified his assault, his tongue delving deeper and applying more pressure.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your slick folds, his voice filled with possessiveness. “My special sweetheart.” With a playful yet firm touch, he lightly slapped your clit, eliciting a gasp from you.

Your breath hitched at Leon's possessive words and instinctively, wrapped your legs around his head, pulling him closer and squeezing them together in response. The sensation of his tongue and lips working so intimately against you, combined with the pressure of your thighs around him, heightened the intensity of your pleasure.

“Leon!” you babbled his name like a prayer as he worked his tongue on you. Each flick and swirl of his tongue made you tremble, the overwhelming sensation almost too much to bear. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, as you surrendered to him.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, Leon started to grind himself against the mattress. His sweatpants strained against his growing erection. He could feel the dampness of his pre-cum soaking through the fabric, each grind intensifying the need coursing through him. His cock strained painfully against the confines of his pants, desperate for release as he focused on bringing you to the edge of ecstasy.

Your breathing grew ragged, and you could feel the tightening coil of release building within you. Instinctively, your hands flew to his head, gripping his hair tightly as you arched your back, your body seeking more of his touch. The sharp tug made Leon grunt, a deep, guttural sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. 

Despite the pain, he refused to relent, his determination evident in the way he continued to devour you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as his tongue and lips worked with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, refusing to let you go.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp, you surrendered to the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal bliss. Leon held you through it all, refusing to let you go until you were utterly undone beneath him, lost in the euphoria of the moment.

As you lay there, panting and trembling, Leon parted from your cunt, his chin and lips glistening with your release. He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes, before tenderly kissing your clit. "You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I could devour you all night."

Your cheeks heated up due to his remarks, a turbulent rush of feelings that filled your senses with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. Under the intensity of his gaze, you quivered, feeling another desire surge through you again.

Leon leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours as he spat on your cunt, the warm liquid mixing with your own arousal. He clumsily peeled off his sweatpants, revealing his hard, straining cock. He positioned himself between your legs, pushing your thighs together to create a tight, plush space.

With a low groan, Leon began to stroke himself between your thighs, the friction against your slick skin sending jolts of pleasure through him. Each thrust caused his piercing to occasionally bump against your clit, sending thrilling shocks through your body and making you gasp with the unexpected sensation.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, his eyes fixated on the scandalous sight before him — the view of his reddened and swollen tip emerging from the clutch of your thighs. 

You were certain Leon would leave bruises on your thighs from the way he was gripping them. “I’m gonna... gonna—shit,” Leon whimpered, quickening his pace. His thrusts became urgent and forceful, driven by an insatiable hunger for release. The air was filled with the sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin. He leaned over you, shifting into a mating press with your legs squished to your chest and his balls slapping against your ass.

With a few more thrusts, Leon succumbed to the pleasure, his body tensing as he spilt himself between your thighs and stomach. Waves of ecstasy washed over him, and he continued to move, riding out his orgasm with a mix of intense relief and satisfaction. His body trembled with aftershocks and his breathing erratic as he slowly descended from the high.

As Leon collapsed beside you, panting and spent, he realised that you hadn't come for the second time. He then shifted his position, propping himself up on one elbow as he glanced down at your flushed form. Seeing the need still evident in your eyes, he gently brushed his fingers over your slick folds, seeking out your swollen clit.

"Let me take care of you again," he cooed as he began to rub gentle circles over your sensitive bud. With each stroke, he felt your body respond, the tension building once more as you whimpered and writhed beneath his touch.

Leon focused entirely on bringing you to the peak of pleasure, his movements deliberate and precise as he pushed you closer to the edge. Your moans grew louder, and your hips bucked against his hand, signalling how near you were to release. With a shuddering gasp, you finally reached your climax. Leon’s grip was steady as you trembled beneath him, lost in the overwhelming euphoria.

He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed. "I'll be right back," he whispered, leaving the room momentarily to grab a warm, damp towel. Returning swiftly, he carefully wiped away the sweat and traces of cum from your skin.

Once he finished, he picked up your discarded sweater from the floor and slipped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were comfortable. You nestled into its warmth as Leon retrieved his own sweatpants and pulled them on.

Returning to your side, he asked softly, "Feeling better?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you snuggled closer to him. "Yeah, much better. Thanks for taking care of me."

He smiled back, his eyes filled with affection, and gently massaged the nape of your neck. "How was the aftercare? It's my first time doing it."

You chuckled softly. "Honestly, I can't say much about it since I don't have any experience either."

Leon laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess we're both new at this. Maybe I should include 'aftercare specialist' on my résumé."

You grinned, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but only if I get to be your reference."

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Deal."

Pics are from pinterest and edited by: @roseglazedlens

Dividers by: @chachachannah

[kiszjuli]

↳ trust me the way i trust you .ᐟ n.jm

(재민) ; childhoodbestfriend!jaemin x afab!reader

──in which you and your lifelong best friend have one of your traditional sleepovers, yet something about you two is different this time. he’s more clingy, you’re more bold..it’s just simple bantering..what could go wrong? oh yeah, and you have an immense crush on jaemin but he doesn’t feel the same- you think.

genre. fluff. (kinda) college au. best friends to lovers ; tags. just mc is a little frustrating lmao bare with her. jaem is a total flirt. calls reader love. somewhat unrealistic lowk. ; w.c. 4.6k

jaemin, your best friend, was over at your house for your monthly sleepover. you had been friends for as long as you could remember. your parents had told you years back that you two originally met at the park and immediately became attached at the hip. everyday since then you two were seen together. he was your best friend. you went to him about anything and everything, as he did, you.

since you had known each other so long and your families had grown close, they let you have sleepovers as of about 2 years ago. during these sleepovers, you would always start with a movie, having your quirky traditions of rating the movie afterwards and voicing your comments and opinions as if you were professional reviewers.

then you would move on to something else as your attention span had grown shorter. usually you guys would go for a walk, or try to learn some random choreography, or even just talk.

this time around was no different; you were both upstairs on your bed. you, sitting crisscrossed typing away on your laptop, and him laid out diagonally on his side facing you scrolling on his phone.

every now and then you would look up from your screen and see him looking down at his phone, seeing the light illuminate his handsome face.

oh yeah, you also had an excruciatingly huge crush on jaemin.

it started back when you were in 5th grade and he stood up for you from boys teasing you at recess. there was something about it that made you see him in a different light ever since that day (now being a sophomore in college) but you would never tell him. you liked what you had with him; it was something not everyone got the chance to have.

breaking you from your pause in typing, your mind having wandered, you hear his phone it the bed and a frustrated groan from him.

you looked up questioningly.

"could you please give your attention to me now?" he sat up and scooted next to you looking over your shoulder to your laptop. he leaned his head on your shoulder, causing your heart to twinge with affection. he had always been comfortable being affectionate with you which only made it increasingly harder to conceal your feelings all these years.

you grinned at ahis pouty tone.

“you sound like a child,” you said and tried to focus on your laptop again.

you heard him scoff next to your ear. "even still, you've been on there long enough," he countered. he shifted his head and rested his chin on your shoulder now. jaemin glanced at your screen seeing a bunch of words typed that he didn't care to read.

"just let me get this done, it's for school, and right now is the only time i have the tiniest bit of motivation," you groaned yourself, knowing that you really didn't want to do it either.

jaemin raised a brow at your words. "is it really that important that you can't even spare a minute to talk to your favorite person?" he said as he slowly shifted closer trying to get comfortable. he didn't really care if you were trying to focus or not.

you sighed. "just 10 more minutes, then my attention is all yours, okay?"

he let out an overdramatic groan before reluctantly leaning away. "fine. 10 minutes, that's it," he pointed a finger at you. he watched as you went back to typing, trying to focus and understand what you were doing, but failing miserably. his main focus was on the digital clock in the corner of your laptop watching as the minutes slowly passed by.

soon enough, the promised 10 minutes passed by and he spoke up. "finally," he sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "times up, now your attention is all mine," he smiled like a kid.

you sighed as well and stretched your back. "yeah, yeah." you brushed off and glanced on him. seeing the way his brunette hair fell so perfectly over his eyebrows, you looked away.

shutting your laptop, you put it on your small nightstand, while he moved to sit in front of you mirroring your position.

"at least now i don't have to share your attention with a damn laptop," he grumbled, causing a laugh from you.

"since you wanted it so bad, now you finally have it," you teased smiling at him.

"alright, you make it sound like i was begging," he scrunched his face.

"weren't you?" you asked. you both always enjoyed the playful banter between you guys. there was almost never a day where you didn't.

he thought for a moment. "okay, and your point?"

you shook your head with a content smile before moving to get off your bed.

"where are you going?" he asked sounding almost fearful of your leaving.

"to the kitchen, jaem, i'm hungry," you said motioning to the door of your room.

"you would rather go get food, than be with me? i'm hurt," he said in a dramatic tone, putting a hand to his heart.

you rolled your eyes and started to walk out of your room, "i'll be back in a minute,"

he watched you walk away until you couldn't be seen anymore and leaned back on your bed. laying on his back he waited (im)patiently.

while you were in the kitchen, your parents told you they were going out to see some friends over dinner, and would be back around 10pm. saying goodbye, you took your plate of snacks back up to your room.

by the time you returned, jaemin had flipped over on his stomach with his feet hanging off the bed. you smiled at the sight, seeing his face squished against a pillow. moving towards the bed, you set the plate down and climbed onto the bed sitting over his legs.

him not reacting, prompted you to scoot up further and sit over his butt, with your hands on his back lightly. this is what made him speak.

he lifted his head to look back at you and rolled his eyes, yet making no effort to move you off. he secretly enjoyed the way you were sitting on him all casually. "𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 are you doing?" he asked feeling your weight on his butt.

"sitting? what are you doing?" you asked with a slight smile, playing coy.

jaemin rolled his eyes again, shifting a little to get comfortable under you. "do you not realize that you're heavy? if you were anyone else, i would've complained and made you get off,"

you raise a brow. "i am not heavy," you say hitting his back.

he let out a pronounced 'ow!' then looked back at you through the corner of his eye. "don't hit me! and you are heavy, especially for my poor back," he whined in a mock-suffering tone.

"maybe you're just weak," you said shrugging and slightly rubbed his back instinctively.

he perked up at this. "i am definitely 𝘯𝘰𝘵 weak," he argued suddenly getting an idea. was it a good one? maybe not but he'd figured he'd risk it anyway. somehow, he managed to swiftly roll over onto his back, keeping you up right. the movement catching you by surprise as you now sat straddling his lap. he hands casually going to your hips, keeping you stable.

"i think you forgot who the stronger one was, love," he smirked up at you, as you stared with a dumbfounded look back at him.

you decided to keep your cool as best you could. 'whatever," you brushed off before reached to the table to get your plate. you assumed he thought you were trying to get off, as his hands tightened slightly on your hips.

you leaned back how you were, missing the way his face contorted a little at the movement. placing the plate on his stomach, not wanting to hold it, he speaks up.

"admit it, you weren't expecting that were you?" he continued to smirk up at you.

"no, i wasn't," you admitted, but your expression not faltering.

he watches intently as you start to eat some of your snacks, as if you were sitting at the kitchen table.

"you know you really have no idea what you do to me sometimes," he trailed taking in your details. your shorts, which had ridden up due to the way you were seated, your hair that was in what you called your 'signature style', and the way you seemed so unbothered.

"what are you talking about?" you question keeping your eyes on the plate, not daring to look at his eyes in fear of heat rushing to your cheeks. even you couldn't believe how calm you seemed on the outside, compared to your heart that was currently racing.

he chuckled at your obliviousness, his hands fighting the urge to move to your thighs.

"you're sitting on top of me right now, looking like that, eating food, and you're still gonna ask me that question?" he questioned with a slight hint of disbelief in his tone. he tried his best not to let his eyes roam over your body.

you think his words made it all actually click. the fact that you straddling your best friend's lap right now finally making you realize the situation. usually being something a couple would do you pursed your lips. "well you seem perfectly fine," you deflected.

he watched as the realization sunk into your face and scoffed at your words. "i look perfectly fine to you?" he chuckled glancing at the plate conveniently on his stomach for you.

looking down, you noticed the slight difference in his eyes. choosing to ignore it, you spoke again. "yeah, you look like normal jaemin to me," you shrugged.

he snickered. "well thanks for letting me know i look like myself," he said sarcastically before moving his hands up just slightly, almost as if to test the waters.

"always here for you," you smiled. you felt his fingers move, trying to ignore it. feeling his touch there was not something you weren't used to, yet it was different this time. which again wasn't something friends did.

jaemin chuckled at your words, his thumbs still gently caressing your clothed skin. "when did you become so snarky, hm?" before you could come up with a rebuttal, he spoke up again. "you know, best friends don't usually sit on each other like this, right?" almost like he read your mind you paused.

"i'm aware, which is why when i'm done eating, i'm getting off," you said, as if it made the situation any better. and to be fair, he was the one that put you two in that position.

smiling at your response, he raised a brow. "and what's stopping you from getting off right now, if you're so aware of our situation?" he teased, his hands tightening on your hips slightly.

you motioned to the plate that was still on his stomach. "i'm eating, duh,"

laughing at your casual attitude and excuse, jaemin kept his eyes on your face.

"most people also don't eat sprawled out on top of their best friend?' he kept his tone light and teasing, finding the whole thing amusing. he definitely wasn't complaining about the slightly intimate situation you were in.

once again shrugging you glanced at him. "since it seems to bother you so much, why haven't you told me to get off?" you raised a brow.

jaemin looked back up at you, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he replied. "who said it bothers me? i was simply pointing out the regular best friends sit," he shrugged in return. though, his thumbs still stroking your hips, betrayed his more innocent words.

you paused thinking for a minute. "if you think about it...a lot of things we do, other best friends- probably don't," you trailed thinking of the countless other times you two could've appeared like a couple.

he chuckled, nodded in agreement. "yeah, you're right.. we're almost too comfortable with each other for 'just best friends'," he said, knowing in his mind that he didn't mind.

you spoke up quieter this time. "maybe we should...change that," you said, almsot done with your assorted plate of snacks.

raising a brow in curiosity, as he spoke. "change what, exactly?"

"the way we act, idiot. what else?" you glared playfully.

"you're awfully sassy for someone who's sitting on top of me, you know that right?" he said with a small smirk, his fingers tracing little shapes on your hips.

seeing you only shrug in response he speaks again. "you're so casual...acting like it's the most normal thing in the world to sit on your best friend,"

"you're casual too," you pointed out, locking your eyes on his. "letting your best friend sit on top of you like this,"

"touche," he narrows his eyes.

looking back down at your plate, you give him the last of your snack, him opening his mouth to take it from you. (again something a little too intimate for people that weren't a couple)

"that felt awfully intimate, too...almost a couple like thing?" he added with a playful hint in his tone. he knew that he silently enjoyed that too, though.

you laughed lightly. "we just cross all kinds of boundaries, don't we?" you asked while picking up the plate from his stomach and setting it aside. as you were done, you reluctantly started to lift off him.

jaemin's hands gripped your hips a little tighter, silently telling you not to get up.

"you don't have to get up just yet, you know..." he trailed.

"don't i?" you asked, however, stopping your movements.

"he shook his head no. "not really, no. i don't mind, love," he said with a smug look on his face.

"you should," you countered, but nonetheless, sitting back how you were.

jaemin, chuckling at your response, moved his hands up a little to rest on the area just below your shirt. "why should i? you were perfectly comfortable where you were,"

you rested your hands on his stomach, which you noted that was quite toned. "it should bother the both of us actually...friends don't do this, not even the close ones like us," you somewhat rambled.

he smiled at your slight denial. "you're right," he paused. "but then again, we haven't ever really been a normal pair of best friend's have we?"

you tilted your head. "what do you mean?"

jaemin held a soft smile o his face as he spoke. "well, we're extremely close, to the point we don't mind being physical with each other like this, i could go on," he squeezed your hips a little before continuing. "we both know that we act more like a couple than just friends,"

"hm," you hummed before looking down, and picked at a piece of lint on his t shirt. now lost in thought, you don't hear him until he squeezed your hip. "what's going on in that pretty mind of yours?" he asked, his usual tender yet slightly flirty tone present.

"nothing really...it's just- it's nothing," you said keeping your eyes down. your conflict evident in your words.

watching you for a moment, he took in your expression. "well then it's obviously something. c'mon, talk to me," he urged, gently coaxing you into telling him what it was.

pursing your lips, you looked back to his eyes, thinking for a moment. "well, like...hypothetically, i was just wondering if...like- if this is how it would be if we were a couple...or dating,' you revealed, struggling to find your words. "that's all,"

he was intrigued, yet surprised to say the least. a small smile hanging on his lips, he asked, "and what was the conclusion of your 'hypothetical' wondering?"

smiling a little yourself you looked up at him again. "i didn't get that far,"

"well, if we were a couple, would you be sitting on top of me like this?" he asked wanting to continue the thought.

after a moment of quiet, you spoke softly. "probably...would you let me sit here if we were together?"

he smirked thinking about your question. "yes, of course i would. as often as you want. you wouldn't even have to ask, honestly." his words making your stomach flip. you couldn't believe you were having this conversation right now, much less while sitting on his lap.

you laughed and thought looking up. "let's see, what else?"

chuckling along with you, jaemin thought too. "well, for starters, i'd hold you like this even more...and touch you whenever i wanted to,"

rolling your eyes you spoke. "you do that anyway,"

he chuckled at your reaction. 'true, but it would be different with you as my girl rather than my best friend," his thumbs still continuing to trace small circles on your skin.

you felt your heart flutter at the mention of being his girl., even if it was hypothetical. "hm," you hummed and straightened your back, sitting up a little.

"you were imagining yourself as my girlfriend, weren't you? you liked the sound of that?" he teased, catching on to your reaction.

you scoff and countered him. "obviously, i had to with what we're talking about right now,"

chuckling, jaemin knew you were deflecting from the truth. "oh c'mon, don't deny it, you know you liked hearing yourself being referred to as my girl,"

"you're full of yourself," you teased, fighting the flush you felt rising in your cheeks.

he laughed along with you before teasing again. "can you blame me when i have a pretty girl sitting on top of me?" he was shamelessly flirting at this point.

"shut up, and stop flirting," you point.

jaemin shook his head with a smile. "no i don't think i will. not when i have you all flustered right now from that flirting,"

"oh, so you admit you are flirting?" you asked raising your brow.

"of course i am, that's what i do," he admitted. there was a short silence before he spoke again eyeing you closely. "i want you to admit something too, though"

you felt your heart beating a little faster. 'okay.." you narrowed your eyes. "then i'm gonna put my plate up,"

he nodded once before speaking. "alright, answer this then: do you like the thought of being my girlfriend? hypothetically speaking, of course," he asked looking up at you.

you looked to the side already knowing your answer but trying to find a way around admitting you liked it, even not hypothetically. "i don't particularly mind it, no,"

smiling warmly, jaemin caught on to your attempt to down play your answer. "yeah? i think you like it more than you'd like to admit," his fingers pausing then slowly tracing along the skin of your thighs. the feeling making you breathe in.

you shrugged. 'maybe i do, but it doesn't matter because it's all hypothetical," you smiled sarcastically and quickly got up from his lap before he had the chance to keep you there.

"wait-" he called and grabbed your wrist just as soon you stood up from the bed. you turned back to him, with the plate in your other hand. "why can't it be real? not hypothetical, but real. us dating," he asked searching your face.

'jaem, are you crazy? it's me, you don't wanna date," you laughed brushing it off. you didn't know why but you couldn't accept the idea that maybe your crush on your best friend wasn't so one-sided.

you moved out of his grip and started out of your room down the hall.

jaemin's expression faltered a little as he got off the bed to follow you. "why wouldn't i wanna date you? you're my best fried. i know you better than anyone. and not to mention, you're incredibly attractive-"

"we're not having this conversation," you cut him off, as you walked down hall to the staircase. jaemin followed close behind, determined to talk about this. he caught up to you as you made it down the stairs into the kitchen. "yes we are. why are you so against the idea of us dating? i don't understand." he crossed his arms.

putting your plate in the dishwasher you spoke. 'because we're best friends," you said before standing back up straight and looking at him across the counter.

jaemin let out a frustrated sigh, his expression still firm. "that's not a valid reason. why does that have to get in the way of us being together? we're already so close and comfortable with each other," he paused walking around the counter to you. " plus, think about it, wouldn't being best friends make it better? we already know each other so well, so that gives us a strong foundation to build from," he explained.

you sighed. "it's...what if it didn't work out? i don't want that to be the reason i lose you...our friendship means too much to me to take that risk," you said breathing out. you said that, but you knew this conversation would change your friendship no matter what.

jaemin's expression softened at your response, understanding the thought and point behind it. he took another small step closer, his voice softer now. "i get that, i really do. the thought of risking our friendship is scary. but you have to think about the fact that we already risk our friendship by flirting with each other. and blurring the lines of friendship and something more." he paused, his eyes locking onto yours. it's already there- the risk," he added. you knew he was right but still. sighing you rubbed your forehead. "that's...different," you still argued.

he shook his head chuckling. "no, it's not different. and i think you know that." you looked up at him conflicted, yet you still didn't know why.

"deny it all you want, but what we're doing already has the potential to ruin our friendship. so why not take the chance, and go all the way?"

you tilt your head. "what? and i mean- are you saying you would have a relationship with me? a romantic relationship. you would want that?" you asked needing the clarification.

jaemin's expression stayed earnest and and serious as he spoke. "i would love to have a romantic relationship with you. i wanna spend more time with you, take you out, hold your hand, kiss you-" he listed. "is that what you wanna hear?"

you shook your head. "no, you don't jaemin.." you denied it for some reason, despite the flutter in your heart.

he sighed, getting frustrated with your denial. "yes i do. i really do. you keep telling me how i feel, as if you know better. but the truth is i have never wanted to be with someone as much as i wanna be with you," he confessed. you froze. he stepped forward again, now standing so close, he could feel your body heat.

you didn't understand why you were going against him. against your heart. you knew you wanted it too, if not more. but you just couldn't.

jaemin watched you close, seeing the turmoil behind your eyes. he could read you like an open book, knowing that you were struggling with your thoughts.

"you know we want the same thing. why are you fighting it? what is holding you back?" his voice holding frustration, but still gentle. he brought his hand up slowly putting it on your cheek.

you wanted to lean into his touch. instead you continued to fight it. "i can't do this with you, jaemin. we've already talked about it too much," you sighed and stepped away from him, moving out of the kitchen.

jaemin watched you you walk away, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment. he followed after you, voice firm. "why can't you? why are you so determined to deny what right in front of you? what we could have together?" he asked almost sounding hurt. you turned around, now at the bottom of the steps. "because i'm scared, jaemin!" you raised your voice a little. ""i'm scared it won't work out, and i could lose you. or that, i'm not gonna be good enough and someone better comes along, or i won't be a good girlfriend, or-"

"hey, hey...shh," he cut you off, grabbing your arms grounding you. his face softened. "you have nothing to be scared of, okay? i'm not gonna get tired of you and there isn't anyone better for me than you. do you hear me?" he asked, searching your eyes.

keeping your eyes on his, you nodded slowly but didn't speak. at your lack of response he gripped your arms a little tighter.

"i need you to believe me. you have to understand that you're everything i've ever wanted. we just need to take that leap," he paused, his thumbs rubbing your skin soothingly.

"trust me, love. trust me the way i trust you,"

looking between his sincere eyes you nodded more sure this time. sighing you speak. "okay," goosebumps rose on your skin from his touch.

a small wave of relief washing over him as you spoke. "good, that's good. i promise you have nothing to worry about. we can take things as slow as you want, but i wanna be with you. i want you to be mine," he said full of emotion.

feeling your heart thumping loudly in your chest you keep your eyes locked on his. "i wanna be yours too.." you mutter softly.

jaemin couldn't believe that he was finally hearing those words from you, as his own heart raced. "say it again," his voiced just as hushed as yours. his hands slowly moved from your arms to your waist, pulling you closer.

leaning into his touch, you spoke. "i wanna be yours, jaemin..and i want you to be mine,'

his heart soared as he heard your words, his arms wrapping around your waist fully and pulling you even closer to where your bodies pressed against each other.

"you have know idea how long i've waited to hear you say that," he confessed looking down at you, admiring your features. you smiled up at him, finally feeling your tense resistance from before, slipping away.

"yeah?" you asked with a small smile.

"yeah," his voice filled with certainty. "now, you're mine, and i'm yours. only yours," his beautiful smile flashing, as he gazed down at you.

after another couple seconds he spoke up again. "can i do something, i've been itching to do for a while now?' he asked with a, now teasing, smile.

"what?" you tilted your head looking up at him, your arms having found their way around his broader shoulders.

"promise you won't hit me?" he says with a cheeky expression. his tone was kept light, yet there was a hint of something else. a desire; a want.

"depends," you narrow your eyes at his change in tone.

he chuckled then spoke as he leaned closer. "guess i'll have to take my chances," he said while glancing down at your lips before crashing his to yours. the feeling catching you slightly by surprise, but nonetheless, you melted into him.

feeling his lips move against yours, creating a spark in your stomach. you broke it leaning back slightly, his forehead leaning against yours. his eyes still looking down at your lips before leaning back in, capturing your lips again. before you knew it, his hands moved from your waist and hooked under thighs, pulling off the ground. you broke the kiss once again with a small gasp as he carried you the stairs with a teasing smile on his lips.

"what are you-what are we doing?" you laughed, clinging to him.

"exactly what we talked about earlier," he smiled as he made it you your room shutting the door with his foot.

let's just say, ‘sitting’ wasn't the only thing that happened.

[inkskinned]

you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

[psychedelic-ink]

'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”  

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body. 

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper. 

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding. 

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim. 

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now. 

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.” 

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.” 

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand. 

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.” 

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know. 

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.” 

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.” 

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?” 

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.” 

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?” 

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.” 

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.” 

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while. 

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it. 

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like. 

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm. 

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt. 

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault. 

Then the kiss had happened. 

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt. 

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?” 

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that. 

But now you do. 

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.” 

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward. 

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?” 

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining  with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver. 

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.” 

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .” 

“Hear  that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” 

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?” 

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.” 

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?” 

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.” 

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.” 

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.” 

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you. 

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone. 

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.” 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.” 

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you. 

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns. 

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.” 

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates. 

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick. 

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you. 

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do. 

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets. 

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.” 

Joel squeezes your breast as  his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses. 

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you,  fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time. 

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously. 

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. 

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.” 

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile. 

“Inside me, daddy, please.” 

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—” 

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach. 

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him. 

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver. 

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.” 

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.” 

“Don’t have to what?” 

“Send the video.” 

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.” 

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.” 

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger. 

“I guess I will.”  

[nanamiskentos]

regular/modern!human x true form sukuna boyfriend headcanons for fun <3 mainly for my pookie @kasukuna bc that's who i think of when i think of bf!sukuna

sees that men get their lovers cute things like flowers and chocolate and thinks its overrated. sukuna realises he needs to up his game with a romantic gesture, and thinks its cool to carve your name into a tree with his claws. you catch him picking bark from out under his dark nails.

saw that you made smoothies in the morning with breakfast and waited till you left the house to try it for himself (he always said he didn't care for them but he just doesn't want to admit). sukuna threw together a ripe banana, a loaf of bread and a whole METAL can of tuna and turned the blender on. you came home to a broken, smoking blender and a gross, banana-covered king of curses who acted like this was your fault.

no table manners, sorry. you think that the happiest you've ever seen sukuna is when you're back with the groceries and there's a raw leg of lamb wrapped up in butcher's paper. delights in the idea of a rare cooked steak, but prefers to eat them bloody.

if you study (say you're in college or university) he claims he doesn't give a flying fuck about what you learn, and doesn't understand the concept of degrees. he wonders why people just aren't allowed to practice their trade, and why they need a piece of paper first. but when you're not around, he reads through your textbooks and quotes them to you afterwards. but sukuna pretends he just already knew all that shit anyway.

absolutely no patience in the morning for lazying around. you figure a big, massive being like himself can sleep through sunrise. but he's got unblinking, freaky eyes and when you crack open your eyelids in the morning, he's already looking down at you, demanding that you get up and not waste your day. at first, you worry that he just doesn't even sleep. you need not worry about that, he can knock himself flat out like an elephant that bathed in nyquil.

you asked him to help with dinner one day. kind of annoying how sukuna's very good at malicious noncompliance. you know that he is an expert in all things sharp and weapon-like, and a kitchen knife is no exception. and yet, he decides to use his long claws to cut the parsnip, slicing through them very slowly in a way that drags and creaks agains the chopping board.

sukuna rages over mario kart and rainbow. has grown oddly obsessed with the leaderboard and claims that he will vanquish the player titled 'sixeyes1989' that keeps calling him rude names online.

thinks siri is mocking him and sulks the entire day at this automated voice that seems to not understand what hes saying. you ask sukuna to gently release the grip he has on your phone before he shatters it. again.

you mentioned something about how sweet it is that your friend's boyfriend leaves her little cute notes with love affirmations on it. the next day, you find sweeping yet scrawled foreign symbols on peeled sticky notes. turns out that his version of cute love notes are ominous, medieval runes that are protection spells against curses.

does NOT play fair in games night. sukuna burned all the monopoly money when you charged him rent for mayfair. invents random words and claim they're from his era in scrabble, and he insists they count. almost set something on fire during go fish and ate the cards. has sat on a chessboard just so you wouldn't win.

[in-som-niyah]

GirlDad!Jason who supports you all throughout your pregnancy; holding your hair when you get sick, rubbing your sore feet and ankles, holding you through cramps/braxton hicks, buying you everything you craved etc.

GirlDad!Jason who cried for hours after she was born. His little girl, just as beautiful as you, all bundled up in soft blankets. He never believed he could love someone so much, it was like his entire body was burning with love and compassion for this little bean in his arms. For once, the world stopped, just for him.

GirlDad!Jason drives the most carefully he ever has in his life when coming back from the hospital. Despite your incessant giggling about how you've never seen him so scared, he drove like a damn senior citizen. He was carrying the most precious cargo, could you blame him?

GirlDad!Jason who changes diapers, feeds, bathes and plays with your daughter. He never leaves her for more than 5 minutes, and is involved to the point of mild annoyance. You would put your daughter down for 5 seconds and return to her gone, and in his arms. It's the most adorable thing though, you wouldn't trade it for the world.

GirlDad!Jason who can't stand to see your daughter upset. It's a trait he developed when she got to the toddler age, always fussing about everything she can't have and Jason giving in. Every time.

GirlDad!Jason who cries on her first day of kindergarten. Would never admit it though, but he hates seeing her grow up. He dreaded the day she learned how to tie her shoes and zip up her coat independently. It makes him feel like she doesn't need him anymore :(

GirlDad!Jason who will, without fail, play princesses, hair salon, tea party and barbies with his daughter. It doesn't matter if the world needs saving or if Bruce is up his ass, his daughter comes second to nothing. Even if it's to kiss a minor booboo she got while running around the house.

GirlDad!Jason who always brings back little trinkets and toys for his daughter. Her bedroom will be cluttered with stuffed animals and shiny things that caught his eye or reminded him of her. She would anticipate his key in the door which meant daddy brought home something for her. No matter how old she gets, he won't stop.

GirlDad!Jason who absolutely fucks up bullies. Be it in kindergarten or in college, Jason will make sure she and her friends are never bothered again. I cannot disclose his methods for legal reasons.

GirlDad!Jason who doesn't freak out about periods. He's so loving and supportive and doesn't ever make her feel ashamed about it. He'll bring her tea, hot chocolate, hot water bottles, painkillers, heating pads and rub her back if she's in a lot of pain. He'll take the day off to stay with her, and never force her to go to school on those days.

GirlDad!Jason who absolutely spoils his daughter shamelessly. Mom said no more sweets? Well dad sure isn't going to place a bag of candy under her pillow the next day. She wants a car for her 16th birthday? His baby gets a pink Porsche with a bow on top. She's obsessed with X artist? All the merch in the world miraculously ends up in her room.

GirlDad!Jason who will tower menacingly over her first partner. It doesn't matter how much you or your daughter like them, Jason's imagining a thousand ways to hide their dismembered body.

GirlDad!Jason who needs to be talked down from killing said partner when he finds his daughter balled up in a crying mess on her bed when they break up. Nobody makes his precious girl sad. He'll definitely egg their house without your knowledge. He buys her everything she could ever ask for to make her feel better, no matter how stupidly expensive.

GirlDad!Jason who's always up to a conversation. No matter how embarrassing or personal, he'll listen and give honest advice. Because he's so open, your daughter almost never hides anything from him.

GirlDad!Jason who bawls after dropping her off at university. Again, would never admit it, but sleeps on the floor of her bedroom for the first month she's away. He can't help but miss his little (adult) girl. He also flips through pictures and videos on his phone of when your daughter was little and sheds a few tears. Honestly it only makes you love him more.

GirlDad!Jason who still doesn't like your daughter's college partner. He's better this time around, but still. Don't put murder past him. Yet.

GirlDad!Jason who cries when your daughter shows him her shiny new engagement ring. He's so excited yet terrified. His baby girl is all grown up now.

GirlDad!Jason who walks your daughter down the isle with the brightest smile on his face. He slowly comes around to liking her fiancé(é) and honestly wishes them well.

GirlDad!Jason who meets your daughter at the hospital, ready to meet his new granddaughter for the first time. He holds her in his arms, just like he did his daughter, and gleams knowing the cycle is repeating itself. He couldn't be more excited.

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

a/n: sequel to this post i guess??? i needed something cute with jason and his daughter bc..... well..... we don't talk about my own father :D

night night guys

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

IYCRTTBFO - Joel Miller x reader

Summary/ warmings: dbf! Joel is also a cam model, a lot of masturbation, a lot of dirty talk, nudes, light(ish) daddy kink, sex toy mentions, and use, cunnilingus, filming, creampies, at least two references to Wheeler Walker Jr. songs, big fat age gap, Sara delegated to Joel's niece, author loves dilfs, especially this one, author entered a fugue state and this emerged

You couldn't sleep. It started at college, when you were working part-time while doing your masters thesis. Your night shift ended at 2.30 in the morning. Then, by the time you went to bed, you were struggling to shake off the buzzing energy. Your body was tired, and your mind was elsewhere. So you turned to the only true, tried and tested method of getting yourself to sleep. Masturbation. Low effort, porn video you've already watched, finger rubbing your clit, masturbation. It worked for about a week. Then your "sessions" got longer. And longer. You had to spend an hour now, chasing your orgasm. Begging yourself to cum. Getting more frustrated and then practically passing out like a log. You got good sleep out of it. But also it was getting painful. Your clit would hurt, a short stabbing pain taking your mind off of your thesis critique. Not that you were too keen on hearing about the feedback on your research model. So you were going to quit, cold turkey style. On the one hand, your insomnia persisted. Now you had replaced porn with your self assigned reading. But that did not help you sleep, just made you more cranky. Your cycadian rhythm was fucked beyond belief. So you moved through life half- asleep, always spending your days off napping. Morning meetings were rough and when you slept through an internship interview at 1, you knew enough was enough.

Back to flicking the bean to not be mean. You just figured you needed a change of scenery, so to speak. You considered OnlyFans, ready to be shelling out your hard earned cash for tasteful nudes (perhaps those of Markiplier or something like that). But that wouldn't be personal enough. You tried audio stuff, but the JOIs weren't really catered to you. Yes, they had your kinks. Or the pet names you liked. But never together, never quite enough. And call it conditioning, but you wanted something familiar. A certain Austin draw, a slice of the Texas you were far away from. But alas, your cowboy was not on Quinn or soundgasm. So you went old-school.

Girls like you weren't even supposed to know about camming sites. It was such a retro thing, more of your father's and Joel's generation. But it was thanks to the former's inability to delete a browser history that you were here. The landing page of the website was fine. You had to make the choice of looking at women, men, couples, or the trans category. Craving to see a solo cumshot, you click on "male". You should've expected that even here, it would be geared towards other guys, like most porn was. The tags of the rooms said it all. Anal. Fuckmachine. Party. But as you refreshed the home page again, someone caught your eye. It was a guy in a cowboy hat over his face. His tip goal was simple, promising a glimpse of him shirtless. It was the amount of tokens needed that amazed you, it was so high. Seriously, from your little time on the website, you could see this was a bit too self assured. But he was getting there. You clicked the video, morbid curiosity taking over. This and his username of thicktexanbeercan. A man after your own heart.

People flood in, apparently the red color of their usernames means they're part of a fan club? You wanna learn more, so you click through the whole thing. The "cam boy" or "cam man" or whatever you were supposed to call him was just welcoming people. There were other newbies like you because you were half-listening to him explaining about his mic.

"You can hear me so clearly cause I have it clipped to my neck on a fucking chocker. Which you guys should've let die in the 90s btw." You're looking at his tags of #monster cock, #daddy, #master and #orgasmguide. And when someone voices your thought of "some of us weren't even born in the 90s." you found out why. He reads it out and snorts.

"Look at you, so young and already a pathetic little pervert watching older men. What, daddy didn't love you enough, babydoll? So now you gotta come here at night and tune into me stroking my cock for you. Wishing you were on your knees, trying to take it in your bratty little mouth?". The donations explode. The sound effects of coins reverberate through your headphones. The goal is met and the stream has been on for only 15 minutes. You can't see him smile, but you can feel it, by the way his shoulders relax.

"You're such a good girl tonight, spoiling your old man. So needy, already wanting me to take off my clothes. I will, little slut, just let daddy take care of something first." He rolls his chair to the desk and takes his keyboard. You chuckle at the faded and yellowed stickers on it, they vaguely reminded you of something. The man can touch type and you've never wanted to be a pair of keys more in your life. The goal's adjusted, promising whipped cream on his chest. As he fiddles with the camera angles and wonders aloud how to best give you a show, you hover to his bio tab. The man intrigues you. Under real name, he put “Can't tell you, but my screen name is a pun”, so you guess it's Bud or even Sam Addams. His age is listed as late 40s, and when you see a glimpse of his salt and pepper chest hair, it makes sense.

This guy intrigues you. Instead of rubbing one out, you're scrolling further. There's pictures and videos. While there's one of him wearing assless chaps for free (which quickly gets saved to your phone gallery), the rest is behind a paywall. Videos of him cumming or even simple things like doing push-ups. Your palms are itching and you know your payday is coming soon. But before you end up buying a filthy mp4, you go back to the stream.

Somehow, he had made taking off a flannel sexy. Rubbing his fingers against his chest. Touching his happy trail. Then someone in the chat asked, "How much to see the good stuff?" He reads it out, chuckles, and presses a few keys, making a tip menu appear in the chat. It has the usual stuff, promises of flashing his cock or flexing his biceps. C2C and PMs (which you had learned stood for cam to cam and private messages). Then, was the more personal stuff. Nudes rating (5 photos), praise, degradation, ddlg. He clearly knew what people wanted. Was it what he craved as well, you wondered? Then came "the goods" the other person was probably talking about. Jerking off, cumming, even using a vibrator or a fleshlight on himself.

You wondered how long it would take to see the self-described "thicktexanbeercan.". But thanks to someone just as horny as you, if not more, it would be almost immediately. When the tip for "jerking off" came through, he said the person's username and then asked, "How do I thank you, using my southern charm or Austin dirtbag style?"

When the person replied with "dirtbag style," also my pronouns are she/they."he presumably glanced at the message. Probably keeping eye contact with the camera, he reaches for his belt.

"Thank you for being horny, I guess. Desperate little thing, that doesn't like to wait. Impatient darling, needing to see daddy pump his cock for you. Gonna show you exactly what you wanna see, baby.". The belt is on the ground and his jeans are around his ankles. Never did you think that a guy simply taking off his pants would be so hot. Your gaze trails from his delicious thighs to his boxers. Holy shit, even by his outline you can tell that his username isn't an exaggeration.

He pulls it out and it's the prettiest and biggest cock you've ever seen. His hand wraps around it, one slow pump he thrust into, back arching. Then he folds one arm behind his head and turns straight into the camera. You like the mystery, but wish he would show his face. His voice is breathy, he obviously likes what he's doing. And his thrusts are speeding up.

His chat is going crazy, tokens pouring in.

"You like what you see, huh? Bet you're aching to touch yourself, too. Go on, spread your pretty legs for me, and give me a show, too.". Before you know it, you're following his instructions. Pajama pants quickly pulled down, you touch yourself. And God damn, are you wet. You're fucking dripping, for this stranger on the internet. You don't have time to be embarrassed. You trail a finger against your opening, gathering the slick. Then you touch your clit, rubbing it slow and then gradually speeding up. But it's so much more intense, it's fucking electric. You glance at the clock on your phone. Look back at the man on the stream, his chest, his cock. And in a minute you're cumming. Eyes closed, pussy getting tighter and clenching around nothing orgasm. You close the stream, mortified. You go to bed and have the best sleep of your life.

By the next stream, you have an account, and you follow him. He acknowledges that, and you're tempted to already start touching yourself. But it's a Friday night, you've promised yourself that weekends are for yourself. Seeing that you pushed for Saturdays off, one would think you'd need to be up, bright and early, and going somewhere. But not this time. You had planned a slow day, where you catch up on laundry and read. But before the weekend was this. You caught on to today's stream a bit too late. Your cowboy (a middle-aged man that probably didn't know you existed) was already shirtless. He had a loofah and a mug filled with water next to him.

"One of y'all suggested I try temporary tattoos. Now, I had to go to the grocery store and get weird looks as I pumped quarters in a machine. So you better enjoy them. Or actually, if I find good ones online, I'm adding them to the wishlist.". He moves off camera and holds up two sheets of temporary tattoos, very tribal and barbed wire inspired. The other is surprisingly butterflies and unicorns.

He unbuttons his pants and lowers his boxers. You can see just the tip, straight as a ram rod. You can't help but wonder if he gets off on being watched. Your head gets filled with fantasies of him and you. Embarrassingly you're picturing him pulling out his pecker in a mundane place like Walmart and fucking you in the aisles. Maybe you just need to do better groceries, you think looking at the takeout bag from the restaurant you just spent 8 hours in. There were enough chicken nuggets in there to feed a family. You get your mind back in the gutter when the performer moans. You stare at the screen. His torso is covered in the temporary tattoo, and he's strategically placed the barbed wire around his nipples. As he drags the wet loofah against his pelvis, he groans.

"God, this is cold. Wish you were here, to warm up my cock. With your mouth or cunt or ass. Filling you so well."

This time, you come before he's even pulled out his dick. Yet you keep watching. A second orgasm gets squeezed out of you later, with the help of your dildo. When "beercan" reaches a crazy tip goal, he fucks his fleshlight. He's merciless, using the pocket pussy like a cocksleeve, whispering the most obscene stuff.

"You like that? You like it when daddy fucks you like this. Of course you do. You're so tight for me, yet you take my big cock so well. Trained you well, didn't I? Made my own little whore, that needs my cum. Beg for it.". And you do, miles away from this stranger. You orgasm with him, sex toy deep inside of you. He cums and makes the stream watch as he cleans the fleshlight with the same loofah he used earlier.

That stream basically breaks you. For some reason two intense orgasm equal a very productive day then. You're a new person. You study and work better and no longer need to fuck yourself to sleep. That you stranger whose name is Bud or Sam Addams or Miller. Not that you drink the latter anyway, so it never crosses your mind. After all, Joel is older, in his mid 50s. But what he's not above is lying on the internet. Using the world wide web to show his nasty bits to the world. And what he'd soon realize is that his best friend's daughter isn't too.

After finishing your masters thesis, you come to the harrowing reality that there's no jobs for you here. And then comes your dad's constant pestering to come home. You reject him at first. There's nothing left for you in Texas anymore, besides the family house. But then, a former high school mentor posts a job opening on their Instagram story. And it's perfect for you, aside from the fact it's in Austin. You off handedly mention it to your parents, after immediately applying. You don't expect to get it. But with interviews and all, you do. They even allow you to start a bit later, making sure you work off your part-time job shifts.

So you take the plunge and buy plane tickets. There's only one problem. The flight is so early that you'd practically have to leave your empty apartment at 4 in the morning. So you decide to pull an allnighter. You're not sure how you end up back on the chat room site. You don't even know if "thicktexanbeercan" still cams. But as you click on the page, you get a notification that he's in a live show. Feeling bold tonight, you know you wanna be a bit more adventurous. Call it what you will, but you need a shake-up. After so much uncertainty, you need to do something so out of character.

You feel the money in your pocket burns a hole in it. Yes, packing your stuff and sending it back wasn't cheap. Nor was the last-minute plane ticket (even with Spirit airlines). But you had sold a lot of your things, gotten your rental deposit back, and got your days off comped as overtime. So you were, technically, on the flipside. Now, responsible people would put that into savings. You were spending it on tokens. You wanted to be seen. So you tipped for "nudes review." Truth is, ever since your last partner in freshman year of college, it was a string of bad hookups and boring first dates. No one had seen you naked in a while. But that didn't mean you didn't have nudes. Nope, you liked taking shots of yourself in compromising positions. After all, your pretty lingerie deserved to be shown off.

So you mindlessly sent over 4 shots via the opened pm option. He moves a large IPad in front of his face to obscure it. His ever-present cowboy hat is moved to his head as he stares at your pictures. He strokes his cock, at his usual fast pace.

"Jesus fuck, darling, aren't you a treasure. Look at that ass, so perky. It would look good in red, after I'm done with you. Let's see the next one, oh, you're doing the hand bra thing. Need someone to fondle your tits, huh. Don't worry, I'd grope them for you. Put my mouth on them, tease your sensitive nipples. Fuck, let's see the third. Damn, you're stark fucking naked. What a little whore you are, showing me everything. Don't know if I wanna think about your boobs again or your hips or your pussy. Might just stick around and look at it. Only one more, okay. Fuck, that's my favorite one, doll. Even though you should've been more careful. You forgot to crop out your face. I can see your needy expression as you're rubbing your clit. Hand in your lacy black panties, must have been a special night. Who in their right mind would have let you go instead of fucking you right against the mirror you're using as a prop. Don't worry, I'll make it right. I'll give you a tribute, right here. How's that sound, darling? You want this old man to cover your photo with his cum in front of thousands of people?".

Any fear or shame you've had is long gone. You don't only want that, you need it. You type a "please, daddy" in the chat. His groan fills your headphones. He fumbles, balancing his hat on his nose. For the first time, you see a glimpse of his face. His tongue wets his lips as he zooms on the iPad, making sure that others only see from your chest down. He jerks his cock over it, painting his screen with spurts of his cum.

"That was intense, think I'll put you on hold for a bit. It's been a while since a first orgasm drained me like that. Daddy will be back soon." He says and pauses the broadcast. Truth is, his cock would be hard again in a minute. It was the fact that he came to you that was haunting him. His best friend's daughter. A girl who was younger than his niece. A woman who was coming back to Texas after leaving as a 19 year old. Then you were still awkward and Joel would never look at you twice. You were a child, for God's sake. But now, some years later you had shed your baby face. You were a fucking bombshell. And he was about to implode.

After a whirlwind rest of the stream, you go to the airport and catch your flight. Despite being a full-grown adult, your parents insist on picking you up. You're back in your childhood bedroom, surrounded by boxes of your new life. You notice that some stuff from before is missing.

"Hey dad, where's the old blueetoth keyboard we bought when the laptop was on the fritz? Might need it for work." You ask. You're sure you can easily write down notes on your phone or on paper. But there was something satisfying about hooking up your old iPad to a keyboard and typing. Maybe it's the fact that it got you through college twice that has you feeling sentimental. Maybe it's the truth that your parents didn't know you bought it, and now you had to use it daily to justify spending money on it. Either way, your dad replied with

"Oh, I gave that to Joel. He said he was starting some new call center job and needed it. Working on European projects, so he's always busy at night. Must pay a pretty penny, he's always got packages on his doorstep. You should see his new pickup truck too, she's a beauty." Your father said.

"Didn't need the whole prologue, dad. Can you just get it back?" You ask.

"Now come on honey, you're a grown woman. You can go over and ask him yourself. He's not gonna eat you." Your dad insists, and you have to agree. With a resigned "At least text him and tell him I'm on the way.", you go. There's no use arguing. You can not explain to your dad that when you were 19, you wanted nothing more than Joel taking your virginity. That now, years after, you still wouldn't mind a sip of that can of Miller.

One of the reasons your dad and Joel were friends was the fact that you could get to the latter's house in about 15 minutes. You're there in less, ringing the doorbell and waiting. Joel emerges in a moss green bathrobe and grey sweatpants. His hair is tousled, and it's obvious that he was sleeping. You'd feel bad if he didn't greet you with a

"What the fuck do you want, I ain't buying anything. Oh. It's you. Hey, kiddo.". Your eyes go to the mat on his front porch, but not before taking in his cock. Was he hard? Had you interrupted an intimate moment? You mumble something about "wireless keyboard" and "borrowing it back, please" when he leads you in. If he had a lady friend, she was as quiet as a church mouse.

"It's in the guest room. Had to convert into a sort of home office, after getting a desk job, so many years as a contractor. Got hard on my back. Wanted to enjoy doing nothing, then Sara got knocked up again. Just like Tommy, both of them can't stop having kids. So now I have to be rich gruncle Joel. And I don't know why I'm telling you this instead of just getting the keyboard." He says. Joel pops in, but he doesn't close the door all the way. Peeking in through the hole, it seems familiar. Like you've seen it before, but recently. You shrug off the deja vu and take the keyboard from him. But as he hands it to you, familiar stickers facing you, you piece it together.

"Thicktexanbeercan" had the same one. And you recognized it because you "decorated" it as a sticker obsessed teen. There was no way. Mr. Miller was not camming. You had not orgasmed to him dirty talking to you. And most importantly, he had not come all over a photo of your tits. It was just a huge, cosmic coincidence. But there was only one way to find out.

The wait until your first paycheck was too long, yet you had to endure. There is no way you were taking money out of your savings to fulfill possibly Joel's wishlist. So when that sum hit your bank account, you expertly navigated to thicktexanbeercan's page. Clicking on the shop icon, you choose to ignore that the man is selling his nudes, his underwear, and his socks. Though tempted by the Polaroids of his cock, you move on. You buy the custom temporary tattoos, a callback to a previous stream. Your pussy twitches at the memory and you're quick to suppress your urges. You send your "requirements" to the Amazon seller and hope they get them ready soon. You also secretly order some for yourself, shipping them to a friend's house. You start tuning into the streams regularly, watching them all the way through. Your coworkers have the grace to not comment. Especially since the nightly nsfw is always in the background of something else. So you're doing research on one screen, while listening to maybe Joel call you a nasty whore for watching him.

TGIF was never your thing, until this one. Your cowboy walked in with a package, his address dutifully scribbled out. He opens it and out comes the sheet of temporary tattoos.

"Oh, someone's been watching me for some time, huh. Can't get enough of me inked. Well, I aim to please, so let's get this show on the road.". Beercan undresses to his boxers and starts examining the tattoos.

"Whoever picked these out is one creative motherfucker. I like them.". He starts showing them off to the camera, chuckling about the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" and subsequently the "don't ride a horse, but I'm hung like one". But one in particular makes him tick.

"Your throat goes here? Really, sweetheart? You expect me to walk around with that, to make you all see it as I stroke my cock for you? Fuck it, it's my job to give you a good show." He peels off two of those and places them on the space between his thumb and pointer finger. Was he? He was. Thicktexanbeercan was gonna live up to his name, by using both hands to jerk off.

He's fast, wanting this to end. His Friday shows weren't that popular, so no use milking it. Now, on Saturdays, that's when most people tune in. It's better to save his stamina for then. But you and the chat had other plans. You had mobilized them as he was busy answering questions earlier. Now, he would get enough tokens for a cumshot. Maybe Joel really aims to please. So he goes for it, double orgasm, sure. Then, as soon as that one's over, another. He barks at the chat that he doesn't like being bossed around like that. But you have him cumming until he's shooting blanks. After he just shuts off the stream and goes to bed after running a wet towel on his stomach, to wipe off the cum.

Less than 8 hours later, there's a constant ring of his doorbell. He opens and you're standing there, looking so fuckable his cock stands to attention. You're wearing a skimpy outfit and your lips are shiny with a pinkish gloss. But that doesn't stop him from wondering why you're gracing his doorstep like an angel sent straight from hell.

“I need help picking out a present for my dad.” You say.

“Sweetpea, I know you've been away for a while, but that doesn't change the fact that your dad's birthday isn't for months.” he replies.

"I know. It's not for that. I fucked up and broke something of his. Can you help me?" You ask.

"Sure, what do you need from me?" He counters.

"I think I wanna be stereotypical and get him something stereotypically dad-like. Like a craft beer, something he can crack open with the boys. And since you're "the boys," I'm here. Need a recommendation for a thick Texan beercan." You watch him react. He twitches like a rabbit spooked by a stick snapping.

"So you know. But I'm sure your parents wouldn't be thrilled by the fact that you're watching porn. Have you ever donated, I wonder. Bought something with their hard earned money. Straight from your father's wallet to your daddy." Joel counters, not missing the way your eyes glaze over when he calls yourself your daddy. But you are not won over so easily.

"You're a liar. Late 40s, my ass. Late 40s when you last had to change your ID or what? I could expose you. I'm sure the girlies and the rest watching you would love to know they were scammed. Tinder swindler, but worse."

"What do you want?" He tries.

"As Lana del Rey said, put me in the movie. Let me be in a video." You demand.

"Come back at night, around 9. Get something to cover your face too. Don't need someone recognizing you." He says.

You follow his instructions like an obedient puppy. You make up excuses to your parents. Your cunt's shaved, your outfit is complete and you're not wearing underwear. Joel drags you in, literally. He looks at the pink cowboy hat you have in hand and chuckles.

"No saying my name, preferably not saying much. Just follow my lead, and I'll make you feel good. If you wanna stop, what do you say?" He lists clinically.

"Light beer," you say, acknowledging the pun behind his moniker. You should've figured this out way earlier.

He half laughs, half looks disappointed at your bad pun. You know he's gonna get you back for this , sooner or later. You just desperately hope it's with his dick.

Joel starts the stream. He makes you sit in his chair as he gets a bit closer to the camera. You can see him, mic clipped to chocker and all. He speaks to his chat, introducing you as a "special cowgirl guest.".

"Bet you all wanna take her place. I'm sure she can tell you all about it. If she can speak after I'm done with her anyway." He continues. You wanna protest, to bite back with a comment. But he crawls between your legs, placing kisses up to your pussy. And you are speechless. The fact that you can see him, dark brown eyes and gorgeous roman nose is too much. He's even revealing the top of his greying hair. You grip it and bring him closer to your center. He chooses to lick and suck your clit instead and you moan so loud, even the felt of your hat doesn't muffle it.

"Gonna make you extra wet so you can take my cock, doll. Would you like that?" He asks and you reply with "yes, daddy". You can hear him extra crisp, the audio bouncing around the room. It's all too much, every fantasy of yours coming to life. You come against him, riding it out.

"You ready for more, my little fuckdoll? Can I?" He asks. You plead, you tell him you need him.

Joel makes sure to zoom the camera to your sopping cunt, showing you off to the chat. He fiddles with it, making sure it captures your greed. He sits on the chair, swatting your ass to get you up. Legs trembling, you do. He unzips his jeans, the sound as familiar to you as a notification on your phone. He puts it against you, just to give his viewers a preview on how deep he was gonna be in you.

"You think I'll fuck her up. Make this pussy memorize the shape of my cock. Let's give this pretty doll her first cervix bruising, shall I?" He says. He slides his cock in you in one swoop motion, not caring about the stretch.

"Just like that." You moan, dangerously close to saying his name. Joel spreads your legs and fucks into you. He's all grunts and swears, gone is his dirty talk. His hands are grabby, squeezing your thighs. He's so pussy whipped that he says

"Let me come inside you. Please. Need to.". The "yes, yes, daddy" is enough for him to do so and continue thrusting in you until he's soft. Joel rolls the chair forward, "manually zooming" his camera. His audience gets a pretty shot of his cum dripping out of you before the broadcast cuts out. He helps you up and draws a bath. If the camming paid for the clawfoot tub you saw, hell you'd join in more.

"You know, what we did was wrong. But it sure as hell felt right. I'm not saying we should do this daily. But maybe instead of both of us getting off on each other from afar, we can do it together." He asks, almost a schoolboy confession.

“Yes Joel, I wanna fuck you again too. Now shut and let me enjoy my life after taking your thick Texan beercan.”

[estellan0vella]

Strawberries And Heaven: H.JS Han Jisung x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 9.8K

CW: Simp Jisung (he's down bad), wingman Minho, wingman SKZ, Minho being a menace (standard), mention of masturbation General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II Part III

The corridor smells faintly of disinfectant and coffee, a mix of sterile campus life and caffeine dependency that permeates Miroh College. It's Thursday afternoon, and that means two things: Jisung has Criminal Psychology at 3:00 p.m., and he's about to see you. The one girl who somehow, against all odds, has managed to drag him to this godforsaken lecture hall every week without fail.

Jisung shifts the strap of his backpack, pulling his black beanie down a bit further as he turns to his left and sees Minho, his best friend and self-proclaimed emotional support stalker, walking along beside him. Minho glances at him, rolling his eyes as they weave through the crowd of students lingering in the halls.

"Are you sure you have to come?" Jisung mutters, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "It's one class. I don't need babysitting."

Minho snorts, adjusting his own baggy jeans that hang over his black boots. "Are you kidding? I have to see this so-called 'angel' who's got you dragging your ass to a lecture you'd usually skip. You've actually gone soft, dude."

Jisung rolls his eyes, tugging his beanie lower to hide the faint blush that creeps up his neck. "Soft? Fuck you, man. You don't understand. I can't just talk to her."

"Oh, right. You're so experienced with, what was it, every other girl on campus, but when it's this one? You're hopeless. Just go up and introduce yourself. You're good at that. Aren't you the guy who once convinced a chick to lend you her psychology notes with a wink and a compliment?"

"Just tell me you want me to die of embarrassment," Jisung says flatly. "Look, it's different. She smells like strawberries and—" He waves his hand vaguely, struggling to find the right words. "I dunno, heaven?"

Minho stops dead in his tracks, eyebrows raised. "Strawberries and heaven? Jesus Christ, Jisung. You're in deep, aren't you?"

"Shut up," Jisung grumbles, leading them into the lecture hall and gesturing to the seats at the back. "Just keep it quiet, yeah? She's probably already here."

Minho follows, his grin almost wicked as he surveys the room from their vantage point in the back row. "I bet she's not here yet. Relax. You look like you're gonna puke."

"Thanks, man. Real encouraging," Jisung mutters, slumping down in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. His leg bounces slightly as he waits, eyeing the clock that ticks towards 3:00.

The door to the lecture hall creaks open, and just like that, you walk in, casually strolling to her usual seat two rows ahead.

Jisung freezes, his gaze locked on her as you move, the clinking sound of your silver rings faintly audible you brush a strand of hair back. You are wearing faded, low-rise mom jeans that fit you perfectly, a white camisole with lace hems, and a shell-shaped clip holding your hair up in a messy twist. And those hoop earrings, the big silver ones that seem to catch the light just right, make your whole look glow.

Minho follows Jisung's stare and lets out a low whistle. "Damn. So, this is her, huh? I'll give it to you. She's hot. Definitely too hot for you."

Jisung's elbow shoots out instinctively, landing in Minho's thigh with a satisfying thud.

"Ow, fuck! Jesus," Minho bites back a groan, clutching his leg as he glares at Jisung. "What the fuck, man?"

"Keep it down, jackass," Jisung mutters under his breath, trying not to draw attention. "You weren't even supposed to be here, remember? You're a vet major, go learn about cats or something."

Minho's laughter is barely muffled as he holds his leg. "Nah, you're not getting rid of me that easy. I need to see you crash and burn, maybe. Or, if you manage to pull this off, I get to witness a miracle."

"Don't you have a dog to neuter?" Jisung hisses, but Minho just grins and leans back, crossing his arms.

The professor begins setting up, shuffling through notes and connecting the laptop to the projector, while you settle in your seat. Jisung can barely breathe as your scent drifts back towards him. Strawberries. Damn it. Every time, it's like he's being hypnotized.

"See?" Jisung whispers, nudging Minho. "Strawberries and heaven. I swear."

Minho just smirks, leaning closer to Jisung. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. You're totally whipped. She hasn't even looked your way once, has she?"

Jisung slumps, his gaze locked onto the back of your head. The seashell clip is pearly and white, almost glowing against your hair. His leg starts bouncing again.

Minho shakes his head. "Dude, seriously, just say something. You're acting like she's a unicorn or some shit. She's just a girl."

"She's not just a girl," Jisung snaps quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You wouldn't get it, okay? Look at her. She's different."

"Different how?" Minho raises an eyebrow, still whispering. "She dresses like she's straight out of a 90s rom-com."

"Exactly!" Jisung says, eyes lighting up. "She's, like, a 90s dream. She's cool. And she's smart and beautiful. She's my 90s dream girl"

As if on cue, you shift slightly in your seat, glancing down at your notebook, fingers tracing over the page absently as you twist one of your rings.

"Look at her, man," Jisung breathes, sounding almost dazed. "She's right there."

Minho watches him, clearly unimpressed. "You're fucked."

"Thanks, Minho," Jisung mutters sarcastically, but he can't keep the nervous excitement out of his voice. "Look, can you just chill? I'm this close to getting her attention."

"By doing what, exactly?" Minho scoffs. "Staring at the back of her head and hoping she telepathically realizes you're in love with her?"

"Dude, shut up!" Jisung hisses, but his cheeks flush, and he slinks down in his seat, trying to keep a low profile. He watches as you tap your pen absently against your notebook, seemingly unaware of the small, stifled chaos unfolding behind you.

"Right," Minho mutters, trying to keep a straight face. "When you're done writing sonnets about her scent and staring at her hair clip, let me know if you plan on actually talking to her."

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up," Jisung grumbles, but his eyes flick back to you, lingering.

Minho glances at Jisung, a mischievous glint in his eye, and without warning, snatches Jisung's pencil case from the desk, stuffing it into his own bag before Jisung can react.

"Dude, what the—" Jisung starts, reaching to grab it back, but Minho holds up a finger, silencing him.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later," Minho whispers, leaning forward until he's right behind you.

With a quick tap on your shoulder, he flashes you his most charming smile as you turn around, your expression polite albeit a little surprised.

"Hi," Minho says smoothly, "Sorry to bother you, but my dumbass friend here totally forgot his pens and stuff. You wouldn't happen to have a couple to lend us, would you?"

You blink at Minho, then at Jisung, who's sitting with a wide-eyed, slightly mortified look, glaring daggers at his so-called friend.

But you're unfazed, a warm smile spreading across your face as you nod. "Oh, yeah, sure! Here." You dig into your bag and pull out two pens, holding them out to Minho with a little laugh. "Good thing I always over-pack."

Minho takes the pens with a wink. "Now, aren't you just the sweetest?" He flashes another grin. "I'm Minho, by the way. And you are?"

"Y/N," you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. You turn back in your seat but hesitate, glancing back at Minho with a curious look. "I don't think I've seen you in here before."

Minho leans back, adopting an air of nonchalance. "That's 'cause I'm just auditing today. Thought I'd check out what my good buddy here's been raving about." He gestures towards Jisung, who's trying to look anywhere but at you. "I'm minoring in animal behaviour, and apparently, you're discussing the nature versus nurture argument today? I figured I'd see how you forensic folks tackle it compared to my animal kingdom friends."

You nod, genuinely interested. "Yeah, today's lecture is about the developmental aspects of criminal psychology. It's fascinating, really. Some parts overlap with animal behaviour when you consider instinctual behaviours. It's cool to see how psychology adapts across disciplines."

"Right?" Minho nods enthusiastically, playing it up. "But my good buddy here," he places a firm hand on Jisung's shoulder, and Jisung finally meets your eyes, looking equal parts shy and frustrated. "This is Jisung. The one who seems to have forgotten basic lecture etiquette and all his own pens."

You turn to Jisung, your smile soft. "I know. We've had this class together since the start of the semester."

Jisung's eyes widen. "You know?"

You nod, pointing subtly at the front of his notebook, where his name is scrawled in black ink. "Yeah, your name's on your notebook. Hard to miss, honestly."

Jisung's cheeks redden, and Minho has to press his lips together to keep from laughing at his friend's reaction. He shoots Jisung a sidelong glance, a smirk dancing on his face.

Turning back around, you give a small smile, "Anyway, enjoy the lecture, guys."

As soon as you're facing forward, Minho leans in close to Jisung, whispering, "She's acknowledged your existence, man. You're welcome."

Jisung clenches his fists, shooting a fierce glare at Minho before delivering a swift punch to his thigh, harder than before.

"Fuck!" Minho barely contains his yelp, face contorting in pain as he clutches his leg. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"Keep your voice down," Jisung mutters, his face still flushed. "And don't ever pull something like that again, you asshole."

Minho smirks through the pain, rubbing his leg. "Oh, come on. You should be thanking me. You didn't exactly look like you had the guts to make a move yourself."

"I don't need you meddling, okay?" Jisung hisses. He glances at you again, a bit more emboldened now, seeing you jotting notes, completely absorbed in the lecture. He feels a weird thrill knowing that you know who he is. That you remember his name. She knows my name, he repeats in his head, almost in disbelief.

"Sure, you don't need me," Minho mutters under his breath, chuckling. "That's why you've been stalking her with your eyes for the past few months like some lovesick puppy. Face it, dude, you're completely whipped."

"Shut up before I give you another dead leg," Jisung warns, his gaze shifting nervously as you turn your head ever so slightly to stretch, your face calm and focused. He's both relieved and mildly disappointed you didn't catch him staring.

Minho just leans back, folding his arms smugly as the professor starts the lecture, his voice booming through the hall. Jisung tries his best to pay attention, but his eyes keep flicking back to you, noting the small details. How you twirl the pen absentmindedly between your fingers, how your silver rings catch the light, how you bite the inside of your cheek when you're deep in thought.

He's completely lost in his thoughts, only halfway aware of Minho smirking beside him, until the professor's voice jolts him back to reality.

"Mr. Han," the professor calls, eyebrow raised, and Jisung snaps to attention, his heart hammering. "Care to share your thoughts on the influence of early attachment theory in criminal psychology?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, of course." He clears his throat, scrambling for words while he can practically feel Minho's eyes burning into the side of his face. "Well, uh, early attachment theory basically suggests that the bonds formed in childhood can affect...um, behaviour patterns later in life. So, if there's a, uh, lack of healthy attachment early on, it can potentially influence-"

"Very insightful, Mr. Han," the professor interrupts, looking somewhat surprised. "It's encouraging to see you're paying attention."

Jisung sinks down in his seat, feeling Minho's barely restrained laughter beside him.

Minho leans over, whispering, "Congrats, you managed to bullshit your way through that without sounding like a total idiot."

"Thanks for nothing," Jisung mutters, hoping he can make it through the rest of the lecture without any more mortifying incidents. But then he catches you glancing over your shoulder, a hint of a smile on your lips, and he has to look away quickly to hide the stupid grin spreading across his face.

Minho nudges him, not missing a thing. "See? She's looking at you, dude. Progress."

That night in Jisung's room at the Alpha Phi frat house is filled with the flashing lights of Mario Kart on the TV and the sounds of brutal competition. Jisung's focused, leaning forward, button-mashing like his life depends on it, but Minho? Minho's lounging back, one hand on his controller, barely trying.

Jisung's character hits a banana peel, spinning out on the screen. "Oh, for fuck's sake! This stupid fucking game!"

Minho laughs, glancing over with a smirk. "You're terrible at this, dude."

"Shut up. You distracted me!" Jisung grumbles, tossing the controller on the bed beside him. "You're one of those lucky players. No skill, all luck."

"Uh-huh," Minho says, scooting to the edge of the bed and looking over at Jisung. "But I think we've got more important shit to talk about."

"Do we?" Jisung eyes him suspiciously. "'Cause I'd rather just forget the disaster that was today's lecture and how you spoke to her more than I did."

"Yeah, no, we're not forgetting it. Actually," Minho says, setting his controller down, "we're making a plan. You need an action plan, and I'm gonna help you."

Jisung raises an eyebrow, almost laughing at the audacity. "You're going to help me?"

Minho grins, sitting up and nodding, deadly serious. "Yep. What kind of best friend would I be if I let my friend sit around pining like some tragic little Shakespeare character? You, my friend, need a strategy."

"Strategy," Jisung repeats the word as though it's foreign like Minho just told him to build a rocket to the moon. "You realize that I have no idea what I'm doing here, right?"

"Exactly! You are amazing with women for casual hook ups but genuine feelings? You are useless. That's why you have me," Minho says, crossing his arms. "I've got a plan."

"Oh, you have a plan?" Jisung sits up, eyebrows raised. "You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?"

Minho scoffs. "If by seriously, you mean I'm not gonna let my friend completely fuck it up, then yes."

"Right," Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes. "And what is this master plan, Minho?"

"Oh, no, no," Minho says with a smirk, wagging a finger. "I'm not telling you what it is just yet."

Jisung sighs, flopping back on his bed. "Great. So I'm supposed to just sit here and trust you?"

"Absolutely," Minho says, smug. "But don't worry. I'm not a complete asshole. I want my confident, borderline cocky best friend back. You're like this-" He gestures vaguely at Jisung like he's pointing at some hopeless little creature. "Weird, hopeless romantic now."

Jisung grabs a pillow and flings it at Minho, who dodges with a laugh. "It's not my fault, okay? You saw her. She's- She's unreal."

Minho raises his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. And hey, I'm all for it if it means getting you out of this sad sack of shit phase. If I have to help you woo a girl who dresses like she's in the Spice Girls, then that's what I have to do."

Jisung pauses, frowning. "Spice Girls? Nah, she's more of a Sugababe"

Minho rolls his eyes, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes, I do," Jisung says, almost begrudgingly. "I need it, obviously."

"Then she's a Spice Girl," Minho declares with finality, earning a reluctant laugh from Jisung.

"Fine, Spice Girl," Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, you better not fuck this up for me. I'm trusting you, which feels like a massive mistake."

"Hey," Minho says, raising a finger, his tone mockingly offended, "when have I ever let you down?"

Jisung snorts. "Need I remind you of the infamous barbecue incident?"

Minho waves his hand dismissively. "That was different. And technically, you were the one who set the grill on fire."

"You handed me lighter fluid, you idiot!" Jisung argues, laughing despite himself.

"Okay, but that was in the past," Minho says, grinning. "This is the present, my dude. And I'm telling you, I've got this. We're going to break you out of your sad little funk, and you're gonna have that confident Han Jisung swagger back in no time."

Jisung flops back against the bed, sighing deeply. "You think it's really that easy?"

"Trust me," Minho says, his smirk turning into something more genuine. "It's easier than you think. Plus, it's you. You're funny as hell, weirdly charming, objectively hot, and at least on the same planet as her intellectually. She's got no chance."

Jisung rolls his eyes, but he's grinning now. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm basically irresistible."

"Exactly," Minho says with a satisfied nod. "But seriously, dude. I'm not letting you mess this up. It's gonna be fine."

Jisung's grin fades just a bit, a hint of nerves creeping back in. "I just- I don't know, man. I've never felt this way about anyone before. She's just different."

"Of course, she is," Minho says, his tone a little softer. "And that's why you're gonna let me help you. Tomorrow's a new day, Jisung. In no time, we'll get you in front of her without you sounding like a total fucking loser. And trust me, you're gonna thank me."

Jisung rolls his eyes but feels a sense of relief he hasn't felt since this whole crush started. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember, no fuck ups, Minho. I'm trusting you with this."

Minho grins, reaching for the controllers. "Just leave it to me. Now, shut up and get ready to lose again."

It's one of those brisk fall days on campus where the chill in the air contrasts with the bright sun, casting golden light on the trees scattered across Miroh College. You're strolling across the courtyard, books clutched to your chest, barely paying attention to the buzz of students around you.

"Y/N!" someone calls out.

You turn, mildly surprised, to see Minho weaving through the crowd, jogging to catch up. He's got a cocky half-smile plastered on his face, and he's holding something in his hand. As he comes to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath but still looking annoyingly composed, he holds out his hand, revealing the pen you lent him in class the other week.

"Here," he says, grinning as he offers it back to you. "Didn't think I was actually gonna keep it, did you?"

You laugh, tucking the pen into your trouser pocket. "Honestly? I kind of figured you'd forgotten about it. But thanks." You give him a curious look, noting the way he's standing there as if he has more to say.

He clears his throat, a little too casually. "So, are you free right now?"

"Yeah, I don't have another class for a bit," you say, shifting your books in your arms. "Why?"

Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels like he's considering something. "Wanna grab a coffee at the cafe? I could use some advice about a girl, and you seem like the kind of person who knows what to say and gives good advice."

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. "Me? Giving relationship advice?"

"Yeah, I know," Minho laughs, "but trust me, you're more qualified than anyone else I know. Plus, I'm a little desperate and a female perspective will be really helpful. Power of the female gaze and all that"

You can't help but laugh. "Alright, alright. I'm in. Let's go."

The campus cafe is buzzing with the usual lunchtime crowd, and you slip into a booth by the window, tucking your books beside you. As you settle in, Minho sets his bag down, glancing toward the counter. "I'll get our drinks," he says, grinning before heading up to order.

You're only half-watching him until you notice the guy working behind the counter. Jisung, from your Criminal Psychology class. He spots you almost instantly, and his eyes go comically wide, like he's just seen a ghost, or worse. 

Minho sees Jisung's reaction immediately and, with a grin, flashes him a big thumbs up, clearly enjoying the situation. Jisung's expression shifts to something closer to horror, his gaze flicking from Minho to you, then back again as Minho approaches the counter.

"Relax, dude," Minho mutters when he reaches Jisung. "An iced americano for me and a caramel latte for the lady."

Jisung crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at Minho. "I swear, if this is some elaborate plan to fuck with me, I am going to spit in your coffee. Like big time spit, obnoxious amounts that shouldn't be humanly possible"

Minho smirks, leaning on the counter like he's sharing some big secret. "Ooh, I like a little danger. But seriously, I am wingmanning you right now, so maybe hold the bodily fluids?"

Jisung rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but the relief on his face is evident. "Fine. But what's your big plan? Don't tell me you're just-"

"Listen, man," Minho interrupts, lowering his voice and casting a quick glance back at you, who's busy scrolling on your phone. "I'm gonna ask her for advice. Tell her I like this girl in my vet class and don't know how to talk to her, and the girl barely knows my name."

Jisung frowns, processing that. "But that's exactly- Oh, I get it now!" he says, realization dawning on him. "You're trying to figure out what I should do, aren't you?"

Minho gives him a look, exasperated. "Obviously. You think I'd drag her here just for the hell of it? Now, chill. Act natural and I will get your answers"

Jisung lets out a small, relieved sigh, finally grinning. "I'm not gonna lie, this is actually kinda genius."

Minho leans in closer, tapping the counter with a smug smile. "I know. I'm the best friend you could ever wish for. A blessing, really. You wouldn't live without me, well you'd live in the sad little turtle shell you duck into each time you see her"

Jisung smirks, grabbing the drinks and sliding them onto the counter. "Yeah, yeah. I still might spit in your drink."

Minho winks, grabbing the coffees with a smirk. "Do your worst."

He heads back over to the booth, setting your caramel latte in front of you as he slides into the seat across from you, his iced americano in hand. You offer a small, grateful smile as you stir your latte.

"So," you say, taking a sip. "What's going on with this girl?"

Minho sighs dramatically, leaning back and shaking his head like he's in over his head. "Alright, so there's this girl in my vet class. She's cute, no stunning, way too smart, and honestly, I feel like I barely exist to her."

You smile, nodding. "So, like, what's the problem? You're outgoing, funny, objectively good looking with the whole red hair, football frat thing. can't you just introduce yourself?"

"See, I thought of that," Minho says, playing up the thoughtful expression. "But she's, like, different, you know? Not the type who falls for my usual charm."

You laugh. "Oh, really? And what makes her different?"

"She's actually serious about her studies. And she's, like gentle and kind?" Minho looks at you, brows raised as if for confirmation. "Kinda like you. I feel like I'd come off like an idiot trying to get her attention."

You sip your coffee thoughtfully, thinking it over. "I think maybe just be yourself, then? Like, you don't have to be all charming or witty. Sometimes people respond better to honesty."

Minho nods, his expression almost sincere as he takes in your words. "That's actually good advice. So, just like come out with it? Just be like, 'Hey, I'm Minho, and I think you're cute'?"

You smile, shrugging. "Why not? I mean, sure, it's direct, but if she doesn't know you that well, she might appreciate that. People can usually tell when someone's being genuine."

Minho glances at the counter where Jisung's watching like a hawk, pretending to be busy cleaning the espresso machine. Minho subtly raises his eyebrows at him, as if to say, See? This is gold.

Jisung gives him a tiny nod, barely hiding his smile. From his station behind the counter, he watches as you talk, clearly engaged, your whole demeanour warm and relaxed. He doesn't know how Minho pulled this off, but for the first time in weeks, he feels like he might actually have a chance.

Meanwhile, Minho leans in closer, lowering his voice. "Okay, but what if she thinks I'm too much of a goof? Like, if she sees me as some obnoxious frat guy?"

You wave off his concern. "I don't know her, but if she's smart, she'll see past that. Besides, being a little goofy isn't the worst thing. Just don't go overboard, you know?"

Minho nods thoughtfully, leaning back as if he's deep in contemplation. "Yeah, yeah, keep it cool. Show her I'm not just some frat asshole."

You laugh, taking another sip. "Exactly. Just be Minho, not whatever character you're usually playing."

Minho raises his iced americano in a mock toast. "To being myself," he says with a grin. You laugh, clinking your coffee cup with his, and he makes a mental note to remember every word you just said so he can relay it to Jisung later.

The last slide of the lecture fades from the projector, and the usual rustling of notebooks and bags fills the room as everyone begins packing up. You're sliding your textbook and notes into your tote bag, ready to head out, when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn, surprised, and there he is. 

Jisung wearing an easy smile and an outfit that's surprisingly layered, intentional and kind of hot: black trousers, combat boots, a long-sleeve blue t-shirt beneath a grey graphic tee, and a cream-coloured cap, chains around his neck catching the light.

For a second, you're caught off guard; usually, you only ever catch a glimpse of him as he slips into a seat at the back just as the lecture's starting, often a little flustered. But today, he's right here, all grins and casual confidence.

"Hey," he says, his voice warm as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "So, that lecture was something, right?"

You nod, smiling back. "Yeah, Professor Kim really went in on the whole behavioural implications of early attachment theory thing. Like, there was no mercy."

Jisung lets out a small laugh. "Seriously, I thought he was going to lose it when that one guy asked if criminal behaviour could be 'genetically contagious.' Like, holy shit, man, read the room."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, right? I was ready to crawl under the desk."

"Same," Jisung chuckles, relaxing a bit. He remembers Minho's words from earlier in the week: Just be yourself. And he tries to keep that in mind, despite the slight nervousness bubbling under the surface.

"So, you're, uh, you're always on top of the reading, huh?" he asks, trying to keep it light as he leans back casually against the desk beside yours. "I feel like you could practically teach this class."

You shrug, shoving your last notebook into your bag and giving him a friendly smile. "Yeah, maybe. I just find it interesting, you know? All the psychology behind why people do what they do. It's fascinating to think there are patterns to it, stuff you can study and predict."

"Totally," Jisung says, nodding as if he completely gets it, even though half the time he's barely keeping up. "I mean, it's kinda cool to think that there's a method to what seems like total chaos."

"Exactly!" you say, your eyes lighting up as you lean against the desk, looking at him with genuine interest. "It's like unlocking mysteries in people's minds. Or at least trying to, anyway."

Jisung grins, a little taken aback by how animated you are. He's seen you in class, obviously, but seeing you like this, so close, he feels like he's getting a rare glimpse of who you actually are. And, damn, it's even better than he'd expected.

"I never thought of it that way," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I usually just think, 'Okay, study this, survive, move on.' But it sounds way cooler when you put it like that. Makes me actually want to put an effort in to studying"

You laugh, looking down as you swing your bag over your shoulder. "You know, surviving is honestly a valid approach. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just trying to get through the day without having a mental breakdown."

Jisung chuckles, nodding. "Can't argue with that. But hey, you seem like you've got it all figured out."

You give him a playful look. "Trust me, it's all an act. Half the time, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Same here," he says, feeling a rush of relief. "I thought I was the only one faking it."

You smile, shaking your head. "Nope. We're all just stumbling our way through. Story of student life I suppose"

Jisung's eyes linger on you for a second longer than he means to, and he suddenly remembers Minho's advice to keep things relaxed but confident. "Well, maybe if I can get some of that magic stumbling hiding confidence you've got, I might actually make it to the end of the semester without flunking out."

You raise an eyebrow, amused. "Oh yeah? I'll let you in on a secret, it's just caffeine and pretending I understand what's going on."

Jisung laughs, nodding in understanding. "Noted. I'll double up on the caffeine, then."

You grin, your gaze softening. "Good plan."

After a beat, you glance at the clock. "Anyway, I should probably get going. Got another class in, like, ten minutes, and I'm already halfway across campus from it."

"Right, yeah," Jisung says, moving back a step to let you pass. "Well, thanks for not minding me, uh, ambushing you like that."

"Not at all, it was nice talking to someone who actually listens in the lectures," you say, smiling warmly. "See you next week, Jisung."

You turn and head for the door, giving him a little wave before you slip out. Jisung watches you go, feeling an unexpected rush of adrenaline, and once you're gone, he lets out a long breath, barely containing the wide grin spreading across his face.

He can still hear Minho's voice in his head, saying, Just be yourself. And, for once, that had felt like it was enough.

Jisung practically kicks Minho's door open as he barrels into the room, eyes lit up with excitement. But his enthusiasm stumbles as he takes in the scene.

"Jisung, are you serious?!" Minho exclaims, glaring at him. "You just killed my mood! I was about to bust, man!"

Jisung rolls his eyes, unbothered, crossing his arms. "Yeah, whatever, sorry for ruining your little wank session, but, like terrible porn choice, by the way. Boring as hell."

Minho flips him off as he grabs his underwear, tugging them back up with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. So what the hell is so important that you've gotta bust down my door like you're the cops?"

Jisung's face breaks into a wide grin. "Dude. She spoke to me. We had an actual conversation! I spoke to her. Like, a real conversation."

Minho stares at him, caught between disbelief and amusement as he pulls his headphones off, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "No shit?" he says, still looking slightly dazed from Jisung's interruption.

"Yeah, no shit," Jisung says, almost bouncing in place.

Minho smirks, his eyes narrowing as he looks Jisung up and down. "Wait, is that why you put actual effort into your outfit today? And the hair, too? By 'styled,' of course, I mean just putting a cap on that mop."

Jisung grins, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, yeah, maybe I tried a little. But, dude, it worked!"

Minho snickers. "So you finally did it, huh? Had a full conversation with her?"

Jisung nods enthusiastically. "Hell yeah, we did! We talked about the lecture, and, like, I don't know, she was so easy to talk to and she said it was nice talking to me, like she wasn't even weirded out that I started talking to her. It felt so normal?"

Minho raises an eyebrow. "Alright, so now what?"

Jisung blinks, his excitement faltering for a second. "What do you mean, now what? I don't know. Help me?"

Minho sighs, shaking his head as he stands up. "How are you so useless with this? Okay, genius idea, invite her to the next game."

Jisung's face lights up again. "Oh, shit. Yeah! I'll invite her to the game, get her there cheering us on..."

"Exactly, dumbass. I'll help you score a touchdown or two, and you'll look like a total beast. Win-win." Minho smirks, clearly pleased with his own idea.

"Dude, you're the best," Jisung says, grinning. "I'll totally owe you one for this."

Minho claps his hand on Jisung's shoulder, a smug grin on his face. Jisung instantly recoils, cringing. "Ew! That's your dick hand!"

Minho laughs, slapping him harder on the back for good measure. "Hey, that's what you get for ruining my nut, you absolute menace."

Jisung groans, wiping his shoulder with exaggerated disgust. "This is why people lock doors, Minho."

"Oh, like you've ever knocked once in your life," Minho retorts, rolling his eyes. "But wait. You got so far today, and you don't even have a way to reach her? A number? Instagram?"

Jisung's face falls, and he slumps onto Minho's bed with a defeated sigh. "Nope. I didn't even think of it until now."

Minho throws his hands up, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Useless. You're actually useless. This is going to take so much more work than I thought."

"Hey!" Jisung protests, but he's laughing now, leaning back on the bed with a sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll figure it out. You're right, though, I'll need her number. Any genius ideas?"

Minho shakes his head with a dramatic sigh. "Good thing you've got me. I'll brainstorm. But seriously, you better not screw this up."

"You'll help me if I do right?"

"After laughing in your face obviously,"

The sun's dipping low, casting a warm golden glow over the field as Chan has the football team running drills. Again. The guys are panting, practically dying under Chan's merciless watch, their bodies burning from the gruelling set of push-ups, burpees, and sprints he's making them do. Even Jisung, who usually manages to keep his energy up, is starting to feel like his limbs are made of lead.

But as he glances over toward the college track, he spots you jogging, a look of relaxed determination on your face as you breeze through each lap. It's ridiculous. You look like you're gliding effortlessly, not a bead of sweat in sight, while the team grunts and groans with exhaustion.

Minho notices Jisung's gaze drifting. He elbows him, nodding over toward you. "Isn't that your dream '90s girl over there?"

Jisung's attention snaps back, his face flushing as he realizes Minho and the rest of the guys nearby are watching him.

Chan and the others follow Minho's gaze, squinting across the track. You're in a pair of low-rise sweatpants that sit comfortably on your hips, paired with a cropped white camisole with a lace trim, and white sneakers.

Your hair's pinned up in that familiar seashell claw clip, a few strands falling loose around your face. It's the kind of look that would have looked right at home in an old music video, and it's like you walked out of a '90s dream.

"Damn, she doesn't look tired at all," Changbin mutters, still trying to catch his breath from Chan's never-ending drills.

"She's putting us all to shame," Jeongin says, half-laughing, half-wheezing. "How is she just breezing through those laps?"

Seungmin glances at Jisung with a smirk. "Wait, don't tell me you're struggling to talk to her?"

Minho nods with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "It's actually hurting my soul, and I didn't even know I had one of those."

Felix raises his eyebrows, laughing. "Revolving door of women Han Jisung can't talk to a girl? Are we in an alternate universe?"

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. You guys are being so dramatic."

"Hey, it's not every day that the great Han Jisung meets his match," Chan teases, wiping sweat from his brow. "Honestly though, Minho, we all doubted you had a soul."

"Thanks, Chan, that's what I go for," Minho says with a smirk. "But yeah, Jisung, now's your chance. Go ask her for her number. And invite her to the game while you're at it."

Jisung looks horrified, glancing down at his sweaty clothes and feeling his hair matted from sweat. "Right now? While I'm covered in sweat?"

"Yes," Minho says, his voice firm. "There's no time like the present. You're gonna overthink it if you wait."

Seungmin chimes in with an encouraging nod, his tone mocking. "Go on, man. Ask her out. Don't worry, you can do it. Maybe."

"Shut up," Jisung grumbles, but he can feel the nervous energy building.

Felix elbows him playfully. "C'mon, this is a moment for the history books. Don't chicken out."

With a mischievous look, Minho cups his hands around his mouth, ignoring Jisung's wide-eyed stare. "Yo, Y/N! Come join us!"

You pause, looking over toward the group with a curious expression as you pull one of your earbuds out. After a moment of hesitation, you jog over, slowing to a walk as you approach the crowd of sweaty football players.

"Hey," you greet, giving a small smile as you reach them, taking in the group with an amused look. "You guys look like you're in hell."

"You don't know the half of it," Changbin groans, leaning over to catch his breath. "I think Chan's trying to kill us."

Chan just smirks. "That's how you get a winning team, my friend." Chan's eyes flicker to the Walkman clipped to your waistband, and Chan's face lights up with sudden recognition. "Hold on, is that a real Walkman?"

You smile, nodding. "Yep, authentic. Found it in a thrift shop, and it still works perfectly."

"That's insane," Chan says, sounding genuinely impressed. "I haven't seen one of those in, like, forever."

Jisung takes a deep breath, gathering his courage, and steps forward with a lopsided grin. "Hey, so, uh, we have a game coming up this Saturday," he says, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nervous excitement bubbling in his chest. "I thought maybe, if you're free, you could come by? Cheer us on?"

You tilt your head, clearly considering it as you give him a warm smile. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. It sounds fun."

Jisung's grin widens, the relief flooding through him as you agree. "Awesome, yeah. We'll- we'll definitely put on a good show."

Minho raises an eyebrow, smirking at Jisung's wide grin. "Oh, he's gonna be putting on a show, alright."

Chan lets out a small laugh, nodding approvingly. "Better make it a good one, Jisung."

You glance at the group, laughing softly at the way they're all watching Jisung, clearly amused and intrigued by the whole interaction. "Well, good luck with the rest of practice, guys. Hope you survive it."

"Thanks, Y/N," Jisung says, almost too eagerly. 

The team watches as you jog over to the bleachers, earbuds back in and totally oblivious to the chaos unfolding behind you. Minho's gaze follows you for a second before he turns on Jisung and slaps him upside the head.

"Ow!" Jisung yelps, rubbing the back of his head. "Dude, I asked her to the game! What the hell was that for?"

Minho sighs, looking at him like he's the densest person on the planet. "You didn't ask for her number, you idiot!"

"Oh. Shit."

Chan crosses his arms and nods towards the bleachers. "Alright, well, go ask her now! What are you waiting for?"

"Right!" Jisung says, almost tripping over himself as he prepares to take off, only to freeze in place, still staring at the bleachers as if they're a hundred miles away.

Changbin squints at him, an amused smirk on his face. "Uh, Jisung, you haven't moved."

Jisung blinks, nodding. "I'm going!" But he's still firmly rooted to the spot.

Hyunjin snorts, crossing his arms. "You still haven't moved, man. It's like you're glued to the grass or something."

Minho lets out an exaggerated sigh, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. "There it is again, this pain in the soul I didn't know I had. Honestly, Jisung, you're killing me."

Felix and Jeongin, watching with growing impatience, exchange a glance before stepping forward and shoving Jisung forward with a well-placed push. Caught off guard, he stumbles but quickly regains his footing, shooting them a quick glare before he jogs over to you.

By now, you're sitting on the bleachers, scrolling through your phone, clearly enjoying the peace. When Jisung stops in front of you, a little breathless, you glance up with a curious smile, taking out an earbud.

"Hey! Back already?" you ask, giving him an amused look. "Did Chan finally cut you guys a break?"

Jisung scratches the back of his neck, feeling his usual bravado abandon him in the face of your calm, easy smile. "Uh not quite," he says, mentally cursing himself for how awkward he feels. "But, um, I just realized about the game on Saturday. I could, you know, send you details if you wanted them."

You raise an eyebrow, nodding. "Oh, yeah, that'd be great."

"Right. So, uh, could I maybe have your number?" He's practically holding his breath, his pulse racing, but he tries to play it cool. "You know, as a friend, for game details and stuff."

"Of course!" you say, nodding. You reach into your bag and pull out a pen, scribbling your number on a small slip of paper before handing it to him. "Here you go. Just text me when and where, and I'll be there."

Jisung takes the paper, feeling a ridiculous amount of triumph as he clutches it like it's some sacred artefact. "Awesome. Thanks!"

You smile, tucking your earbuds back in. "No problem. Good luck with the rest of practice!"

As you jog off, Jisung watches you for a second, still gripping the slip of paper before he turns and heads back to the field.

The guys are all watching him expectantly as he approaches, Minho crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. "Well? How'd it go?"

Jisung waves the piece of paper triumphantly. "I got her number!"

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, noting the look on Jisung's face. "But...?"

Jisung sighs, the realization settling in as he slumps slightly. "I friend zoned myself."

The entire team lets out a collective groan, most of them doubling over with laughter or shaking their heads in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you?" Minho says, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Are you trying to sabotage yourself, or what?"

Jisung rubs his temples, feeling his frustration build. "I don't know, man! Usually, I can get a girl's number and have her in my bed in, like, ten minutes. It's like all my usual shit just falls apart when I'm around her."

Hyunjin laughs, patting him on the back. "Maybe that's a sign, genius. Try being, I don't know yourself?"

Chan snorts, crossing his arms. "This is a first. Han Jisung, a bumbling self friend zoning mess"

Jisung huffs, rolling his eyes. "Thanks for the support, guys."

Felix grins, his voice softening. "Come on, man. Just be real with her. No more overthinking. Invite her to the game, hang out, just chill. Don't overcomplicate it."

Minho shakes his head, laughing. "Right. We'll do the complicated part on the field. Just focus on not friend zoning yourself again, okay?"

Jisung lets out a reluctant laugh, tucking the slip of paper safely into his pocket. "Fine, fine. No more overthinking. Just keep it simple."

The team exchanges looks, clearly sceptical but amused, as Chan whistles to get them back on task. "Alright, lovebirds, enough about the romance stuff. Back to drills. Let's go!"

With one last glance toward the bleachers where you'd been sitting, Jisung feels a rush of determination. Saturday can't come soon enough.

The stadium lights blaze down on the field, casting a glow across the crowd and players as Miroh College's football team, the Miroh Maniacs, prepare for the big game.

Jisung stands at the edge of the field, scanning the bleachers with anxious eyes, trying to spot you among the scattered faces. But the stands are filled with students, and it's impossible to find anyone, let alone the person he's been looking forward to seeing all week.

He huffs, scuffing his cleats into the grass, feeling his chest tighten. "She didn't come," he mutters, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Minho, standing beside him in full gear, gives him a sympathetic look and a heavy pat on the back. "Damn, man. That's rough. But hey, maybe she got caught up or something. Doesn't mean she didn't want to come."

Jisung lets out a sigh, folding his arms. "Yeah, maybe. Still feels like shit, though."

As the game begins, Jisung tries to keep his focus on the field, but it's tough when all he can think about is you, not being there. He's distracted, missing cues, and every time he glances at the bleachers, there's a sinking feeling in his stomach. Minho notices, giving him an encouraging nudge whenever he slips up, but Jisung can't shake the nagging disappointment.

By halftime, Jisung's barely even listening as Chan goes over their next moves. He's glancing back toward the stands, wondering if you might magically appear, hoping against hope. And then, as the players start gathering for their pep talk, Jisung sees something that stops him in his tracks.

There you are, sitting at the bottom of the stands, looking around as if you're searching for someone. You're wearing a green long-sleeve shirt that dips into a deep V-neck, showing just a hint of skin, and a pair of baggy, low-rise jeans. The familiar black Converse on your feet, your hair is messily clipped up with that same seashell claw clip. It's unmistakably you.

His heart leaps, and before he knows it, he's jogging over, catching you by surprise as he comes to a stop in front of you.

"Hey," he says, slightly out of breath but grinning. "You okay?"

You look up at him, guilt flickering across your face as you offer a small, apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Jisung. I know I'm late. I was finishing up my forensic science paper and, like, totally lost track of time."

He shakes his head, a bit stunned that you actually came. "You didn't have to come if you had a big assignment. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

You smile, and the sincerity in your eyes makes his chest feel lighter. "No, I said I'd be here, so here I am." You gesture toward the field, smirking. "Besides, I wasn't going to miss out on seeing you guys destroy the other team, right?"

Jisung laughs, the weight that had been on his shoulders lifting in an instant. "We're doing our best, but uh got a little distracted in the first half." He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks warm a bit.

"Well," you say, looking up at him with a reassuring smile, "now I'm here, so no more excuses. You've got a whole second half to make up for it, right?"

The shrill blast of the whistle signals the start of the second half, and Jisung shoots you a quick grin. "Guess I better get back out there. Keep an eye out, alright?"

You nod, laughing. "Oh, I'll be watching. Go kill it."

Jisung jogs back toward his teammates, practically buzzing with energy now. Minho, standing with Hyunjin near the sidelines, spots him and raises an eyebrow. "Finally got that confidence back, huh?"

Hyunjin smirks, crossing his arms. "Alright, man. We're getting you a touchdown. Everyone's in on it."

Minho grabs a bottle of water, shoving it into Jisung's hands. "It's time to wow your '90s dream girl, dude. So hydrate, gear up, and get your ass in the zone."

Jisung takes the bottle, glancing down at it sceptically. "But what if I have to piss? Seriously, I'm not risking that."

Minho rolls his eyes, exasperated. "For god's sake, just drink some water."

Jisung takes a reluctant sip, his face scrunching as he sets the bottle down. "Fine, but if this backfires, you're to blame."

Hyunjin laughs, giving him a shove toward the huddle where the rest of the team waits. "Go kill it, Romeo."

With one last look at you sitting on the bleachers, Jisung heads back to the field, a newfound determination in his eyes. He's ready for the second half, and this time, he's not holding anything back.

The whistle blows to start the second half, and instantly, the team is on high alert. Chan calls the play, and the whole lineup is subtly geared toward making sure Jisung has the perfect setup to score. The guys are practically electric, each one of them more hyped than usual, and it's clear they're all determined to help Jisung pull off his moment.

Jisung lines up, glancing once toward the bleachers where you're watching, leaning forward with your eyes locked on the game. His heart pounds, adrenaline pumping as he gets into position.

Chan snaps the ball, and the play begins. Minho and Hyunjin immediately work to block the defenders, giving Jisung a clear path as he sprints downfield, dodging tackles, his every step fueled by the thought of you watching. He feels every inch of the field beneath his cleats, and it's like everything's in slow motion. He can see the end zone, clear and open, just waiting for him.

"Go, Jisung!" Minho yells, throwing a solid block that opens up the final few yards for him.

With a burst of speed, Jisung dives forward, clutching the ball tightly as he crosses into the end zone. The cheers erupt around him, but the only thing he's focused on is you, standing up in the bleachers, clapping with a wide, proud smile that lights up your entire face and makes Jisung see the world in shades of pink.

Jisung's face breaks into a grin, his chest swelling with pride as he stands up, unable to hide the joy on his face. He can barely hear his teammates around him because all he's seeing is the look on your face, and it's enough to make him feel invincible.

"Hell yeah!" Changbin cheers as he and Minho rush over, pulling Jisung to his feet with matching grins.

"Alright, you've impressed her now," Minho says, slapping him on the back. "But now you've gotta close the deal. We're gonna help you get as many damn touchdowns as possible, but after that? It's on you, bro. You gotta either kiss her or ask her out or whatever you're planning. You get me?"

Jisung nods rapidly, barely able to contain the massive grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'm doing this!"

Felix and Seungmin clap him on the back, their laughter ringing out as they congratulate him, and Jeongin practically tackles him in excitement.

"That was sick, dude!" Jeongin says, beaming. "Now you just gotta keep this up!"

Chan and Hyunjin jog over, both of them holding out their hands for high fives, which Jisung meets eagerly.

"Keep that adrenaline up," Hyunjin says, smirking. "With this energy, asking her out's gonna be a piece of cake."

"Exactly," Chan says, nodding with a smile. "Now let's help our boy rack up some more scores. If we play this right, he'll be unstoppable tonight."

Jisung clenches his fists, adrenaline flooding his veins as he nods, ready to play his absolute best. The guys all gather around him, their energy infectious as they slap his back, hyping him up before heading back into position. He glances at the bleachers once more, catching your eye as you wave, still beaming with that warm, encouraging smile.

For the rest of the game, the team's strategy is clear: get Jisung every chance to score. Each play is practically engineered to put the ball in his hands, and every time he crosses the line, the crowd roars, sending chills down his spine. And each time, he looks to the bleachers, zeroing in on you. You're standing now, clapping with a bright smile that lights up your face, and to him, it's like the whole stadium fades away.

With every touchdown, his teammates swarm him, cheering, slapping his helmet, yelling about how "the Han touchdown train" can't be stopped tonight. It's like they're all rooting for him not just to win the game, but to win you over.

"Goddamn, you're on fire, Jisung!" Chan shouts, panting as he jogs up beside him after yet another touchdown.

"It's the magic of a girl in the stands," Felix laughs, throwing an arm around Jisung's shoulder. "You better keep this up, man. We've never seen you play this good."

Jisung laughs, breathless, catching his teammates' infectious energy. He glances over to see you clapping again, beaming at him, and for a second, he almost feels like he's floating.

Minho sidles up next to him, catching his breath. "You see her out there, dude? She's cheering just for you. You got this."

Jisung nods, wiping sweat off his brow, feeling a surge of confidence every time he catches your eye. Each touchdown fuels him more, and the team, sensing his determination, rallies around him.

They block defenders with brutal force, ploughing through lines to create space, and hand him the ball again and again, shouting encouragement at every opportunity.

With a little over two minutes left in the game, Chan calls a huddle, his voice rough but steady as he grins at the team. "Alright, let's make this one count. It's our last drive. Get Jisung the fucking ball."

The guys nod, all grins and fierce determination. As they take their positions, Jisung glances once more toward the bleachers. You're watching intently, eyes full of excitement, and it's like an invisible thread pulls him toward the end zone, knowing you'll be there cheering no matter what.

The play unfolds perfectly. Minho and Changbin block two defenders, Felix takes out another, and Jisung darts through the gap, sprinting toward the end zone. The crowd's roar is deafening as he makes the final dive, crossing the line with the ball firmly in his grip.

He stands up, triumphant, the thrill of the touchdown rippling through him, but what really makes his heart race is catching sight of you in the stands, clapping wildly, that same radiant smile on your face. He can barely contain his own grin as he raises a fist in the air, the cheers around him fading into the background as he locks eyes with you.

When his teammates reach him, they're laughing, shouting over each other's voices.

"You're a goddamn beast tonight, Han!" Seungmin yells, clapping him on the back.

Hyunjin smirks, holding up a hand for a high-five. "You'd better ask her out after this, because that was fucking legendary."

As the final whistle blows, signalling their victory, Jisung's teammates surround him, piling on congratulations, laughs, and relentless back pats.

The final whistle blows and the crowd erupts in cheers as the Miroh Maniacs celebrate their victory. The guys are all high-fiving and fist-pumping, adrenaline buzzing through their veins as they revel in the thrill of the win.

Jisung's heart is pounding, both from the game and from the sight of you at the edge of the field, clapping and smiling as you watch the team celebrate.

"Go get your '90s dream girl, Han," Minho says, slapping Jisung on the shoulder. There's a glint of mischief in his eye as he steps back, letting Jisung gather his courage.

Chan, ever the supportive captain, grins and shouts, "You've got this, Ji! Don't choke now!"

"Dude, you've been killing it all night," Hyunjin says, giving him an encouraging nod. "Time to wrap it up with a win off the field, too."

Felix and Jeongin clap him on the back, their voices blending into a jumble of encouragement and good-natured ribbing. Even Seungmin, who usually prefers to stay cool and unbothered, joins in with a smirk. "Don't overthink it, man. Just go."

Jisung takes a deep breath, feeling every bit of adrenaline pushing him forward as he steps toward you. The team's words echo in his mind, and he thinks, Fuck it. It's now or never.

You approach the group, looking radiant, your eyes bright with excitement as you clap for each of them. "Congratulations, you guys! That was seriously amazing!"

Jisung's heart nearly skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you, looking effortlessly beautiful even in the dim stadium lights. He's been imagining this moment all night, and without thinking, he steps forward, closing the distance between you.

And then, with a surge of confidence, he cups your face and kisses you, pouring everything he's been feeling into the moment. His heart's racing, but as soon as your lips meet, he feels that familiar thrill, the world fading out around him.

The team erupts into cheers and whistles behind him, and Jisung can't help but grin against your lips as he hears them hollering.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, still holding you close. Emboldened by the rush, he dips you back, his grin widening as the guys cheer even louder. Minho yells out over the noise, "Strawberries and heaven, my man! Your '90s dream girl right here!"

You laugh, your cheeks pink as you look up at Jisung, slightly dazed. "Wait. What?"

Jisung's face softens, his voice tender as he smiles down at you. "You. You smell like strawberries and heaven. And you're my '90s dream girl." And with that, he leans in and kisses you again, savouring the feeling, the cheers of his friends blending into the background.

When he finally lets go, Minho claps him on the back, looking comically emotional. "I feel so proud, honestly. I coached him through it all, stopped jerking it for him to gush about her. This is basically a win for me, too."

Chan laughs, shaking his head. "Minho, you sacrificed, my guy. I'm proud of you."

Felix raises an eyebrow, his expression teasing. "Seriously, though. I can't believe it took seven wingmen to make this happen."

Jisung rolls his eyes but laughs along, his arm still around you as he finally turns back to face his friends.

You smile up at him, still a little flushed but looking delighted. "So, what's the plan now?"

Jisung's eyes light up, his grin playful. "We're having a post-game party back at the frat house. You should come." He pauses, pretending to think. "I might even make you a cocktail as good as that caramel latte you liked."

"Oh, really?" you tease, raising an eyebrow. "Big talk, Han. Think you're up to it?"

"Pfft, please," Jisung says, flashing you a confident smirk. "Give me a real challenge."

You laugh, glancing back toward the bleachers. "Alright. I'll grab my things while you guys wrap up and shower. Don't keep me waiting."

You head back toward the stands, and as soon as you're out of earshot, Felix leans over, grinning. "Uh, Jisung, dude, you can't make cocktails to save your life."

Jisung's expression falters, but then he looks at Minho, a pleading glint in his eye. "Minho...?"

Minho lets out a long, dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll make the fucking cocktail. But seriously, you owe me for this one."

Jisung's grin returns. "You're the best, man."

Minho smirks, crossing his arms. "Do you need me to teach you how to fuck her too?"

Jisung snorts, shooting him a playful glare before delivering a swift kick to Minho's ass. "Shut the fuck up, man."

The team laughs, their voices full of pride and joy as they head off the field, congratulating Jisung and slapping him on the back the whole way.

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!

-----

Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.

The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, “I'm taking my lunch!”

“Now?” Robin bitches. “Did you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-” She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. “Oh. Huh.”

Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.

“I'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,” he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.

To Eddie, he says, “Here, since this brought you so much joy,” and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.

Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.

“There,” Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. “You keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.”

“A small price to pay for a free meal,” Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.

—

He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.

Dustin's away at camp, after all.

“Why the hell are you working here?” Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.

Steve snorts. “Needed to work somewhere.”

“Okay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?”

Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. “Not a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.”

Eddie scoffs. “Would your dad even know a real job if it bit him?”

“My dad's never really had to work for anything,” Steve mutters. “I didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.”

Eddie tips back, looking him over. “You don't look very humiliated.”

Steve shrugs. “Because I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.”

Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.

“How long have you been doing that?” he asks quietly.

“What, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.

“Since I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.”

Eddie's quiet again. “You've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,” he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. “Lot of bruises.”

He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. “Oh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.”

Eddie considers that. “Your dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.”

Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. “Sounds like you're familiar with it.”

Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Come on, man, you know who my dad is.”

“I know what people say about him,” Steve agrees. “But I've learned not to listen to rumors.”

Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.

Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.

Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.

Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.

“You can listen to these ones,” Eddie says after a while. “They're mostly true.”

“You deserve better,” Steve tells him.

He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.

“So do you,” Eddie says without looking up.

They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.

Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. “Come on, I'll get us lunch.”

Eddie scowls at him. “You bought last time.”

“Yeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,” Steve counters, holding out his hand.

Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.

—

Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.

One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -

But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.

He doesn't need one.

Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -

“Hi,” Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.

But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.

“Hi,” Eddie says back.

And that's -

It's something.

—

Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.

It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.

—

He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.

He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.

—

This isn't like any beating he's taken before.

Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.

He can handle it.

Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.

"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."

Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.

He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.

But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.

It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.

They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.

He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.

They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.

His chest splits open.

The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.

His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.

"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."

The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.

The second soldier laughs.

"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.

The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.

"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"

"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."

There’s no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.

"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.

The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"

—

Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.

His chest aches.

Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.

Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.

But he's not alone now.

He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.

He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.

They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.

It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.

—

Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.

Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.

He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.

The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.

When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.

His stomach turns.

Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.

It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.

The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.

He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.

There.

Now no one will notice.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 6

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse

[jaysgirlx]

living with choso might have just been the best mistake of your entire life. the intended plan was for you to finally get your own place but when you get there the place is in shambles. you got your deposit back when you threatened to get the police involved because the place looked nothing like its pictures.

choso had offered you his spare bedroom time and time again but you couldn't. choso was already such a good friend to you and you just didn't want to impose this on him. but of course, you're not even given a choice to ask him because the moment choso finds out how messed up your new apartment is he's already taken your stuff back to his place.

you're two months in and you realize choso and you had fallen into a pattern. a pattern that you hope won't everbreak. you wake up and choso's already made breakfast for the both of you. he says he's used to it from when he and his brothers used to live together, even though he only makes enough for two.

when you both arrive home from work, you either go out for food or order in and then of course you guys watch movies. "what do you mean you've never seen toy story?!"

"i didn't have much of a childhood, so i haven't seen a lot of movies" he mumbled quiety. for the rest of the night, the two of you had a toy story marathon with tons of snacks (provided by choso of course).

choso knew you loved to snack, so he learned to find your favorites in bulk. anytime you saw you snack on something when you hung out, he would memorize its name so he could buy more. he wanted to make his apartment as comfortable as he could for you. his place was meant to be yours.

sometimes the two of you would fall asleep on the couch together, all cuddled up together. however, it didn't start out like that, at first you would lean on choso's shoulder hoping he wouldn't mind. and eventually, he got annoyed with you just leaning on him and pulled you into his arms. you wanted to protest but you enjoyed it so much that you instead leaned into his body. whenever he'd feel you get comfortable in his arms or his lap he'd whisper "good girl" in your ear. coming from him those words drove you crazy and you wished you could hear them more.

on some nights, after you've both had a long day at work choso tends to carry you back to your room when you fall asleep. he even kisses your forehead and you've caught him doing it and you wish you had the guts to confront him on it so bad but you're happy here. so why risk it?

when choso works late you bring dinner to him and the two of you eat in his office. he always tells you, that you don't have to. that he can bring you dinner instead but when you warn him that you'll nice out he easily shuts up. you guys don't get to watch movies but you do get to talk.

"how's yuji?" you ask him after setting his food on his desk.

"enjoying college life apparently, nobara said they're going to a frat party tonight," he says while chucking.

"do you miss him?"

"why would i miss him when i have you?"

in your mind, there was no way he could've possibly meant that romantically. even after he changed the topic you were still thinking about it, thinking about what he meant and what could be going on in that head of his.

during the weekends, choso spends all his time with you. if you want to go shopping, he pays for everything, buys you lunch, and carries all your bags. he tells you it's in exchange for all the dinners you've bought him even though he's already paid you back for those. and when you get home he helps you try them all and all he can do is compliment you, like you're all his, "these jeans look so fucking good on you, can you only wear them in the apartment? just for me pretty girl?"

and you'd agree to his pleas cause, let's be real you only bought these jeans cause he keep eyeing you in them. and they way he cursed, you knew he wanted you because you felt the exact see way.

maybe living with choso a little longer wouldn't be such a bad idea.

❥ a/n: a little drabble to make up for not posting the college au choso fic yet.

[yerimbrit]

10 hour flight : p. hanni

synopsis: you bump into a girl more than once at the airport. you learn that she's on the same flight as you, and to top it off, sits right next to you on the plane.

# pairing ! trainee!hanni pham x art student!reader

# tags ! fem!reader, slowburn...?, strangers to lovers, fluff, hanni's debuting soon, reader did some... insane shit in her past, but tbh she's not all that insane herself i swear, she's just reckless, hanni's afraid of flying, reader is '04, reader is a loser unfortunately

# wordcount ! 16k

# warnings ! lots of mentions of injuries/scars

today was probably one of the biggest days of your life.

you had just graduated from high school in australia in may about 2 months ago, getting into SNU's college of fine arts. you intended to pursue your passion in painting. ever since you were a baby, you've loved to have a hand in art — always scribbling colorful images on everything you could touch, from big pieces of scrap paper to the walls of the living room.

from a young age, you have won a significant amount of trophies and medals for your paintings entered in art competitions. your parents were highly supportive of your hobby, pouring months worth of paychecks into your art lessons and academy tuition fees.

although you were quite grateful, you thought they could be overbearing sometimes. that's why you chose to attend a school far away; to have a breath of fresh air, away from your overprotective mother and father. you could never relax and let loose like you wanted if they were worrying over every little move you made.

for example, the time your parents had left you alone in the house for the first time because they were going to a friend's wedding. they made an extensive list of things to do and not do, and of course, you used the 'not do' side as a checklist.

in your defense, you hadn't planned to have so many people over, just your friend group. but your friend chaeyoung knew a girl that knew another girl that knew a guy, and suddenly your house was hosting a massive party for the entire student-body. it was an honest mistake on your part, vowing to never host a party like that ever again, and sticking to stunts that you could do yourself for some healthy adrenaline.

obviously your parents weren't pleased when they returned, seeing the aftermath of the events taken place the day prior. you were given a big scolding, but you didn't let that stop you from attempting to wreak havoc the next time they were out.

now, family gatherings weren't your favorite. you couldn't get away with anything so long as someone older was watching you. they thought you were a demon. an artistic prodigy demon. they didn't understand how someone like you could be so good at something that was supposed to be so peaceful. you think you've matured enough though; it's been years since you've actually done something bad.

a few of your relatives stayed in seoul after your parents left for melbourne, including your idiot cousin hyein and her parents. it was decided that you were going to live with them, since you've already stayed there on previous visits.

speaking of hyein, it had been a while since you've seen her, last being christmas, which was a disaster. did you say it's been years since your last incident? well, you lied.

all the adults were out for something that you don't remember anything about, and you, being the troublemaker that you were, had convinced the younger girl to help you hang yourself from the ceiling right above the tree. your reasoning was that you'd "wanted to be the star for the night," and sweet little hyein agreed because why wouldn't she agree to her cool older cousin?

(you don't know where hyein got the harness and rope, or how hyein managed to wrap the rope around the beam on the ceiling that extended past the second floor, but the younger lee's eyes practically sparkled at the thought of accompanying you in one of your schemes, so you decided to ignore it.

hyein buckled the harness, tightening it as you squirmed against the restraints. she flashed a mischievous grin at you.

"ready?"

"i was born ready.")

both of you failed to realize that the rope you were using was extremely frayed at the ends and had definitely gone through years of wear-and-tear. it ended up snapping, and in the process, dropped you onto the christmas tree that had just been decorated that morning.

your relatives came home to you and hyein on the floor, wide-eyed, with wounds littering your face and arms from falling onto the tree.

needless to say, you and your little cousin were never allowed alone without supervision again.

on another note, you finally arrived at the airport!

your dad went around the car to open the trunk and started taking your luggage out. shortly after, you and your mom got out of the car and went to join your dad in getting your things.

"so, SNU huh? you're going too far, kid!" your dad chuckled, extending his hand for a handshake.

you gripped his hand firmly, feeling the roughness of his palm, and moving your hands up and down once.

you grinned. "i'll be back before you know it, dad."

you were about to let go until your dad brought you into a tight hug, leaving a kiss on top of your head.

"i know... it's just, we'll miss our star girl, you know?" he patted your back. "it'll be hard for this old man without his little girl around all the time."

you stared amusedly. "even though i always cause trouble when you're not looking?"

your dad let out a hearty laugh and ruffled your hair, much to your chagrin. you took this moment in, absorbing as much of it as you can so you could remember every detail. there were more wrinkles in his skin, and there were visible bags under his eyes. even though he's aged physically, you could tell in his laugh that he was still the same old dad that you've adored since you were little. (he was always the more spoiling parent between him and your mom.)

he stepped back, allowing your mother to rush in for a passionate embrace. you slowly felt your sweater getting damp as your mom sniffled into your shoulder.

"be sure to call when you land, okay? and eat on the flight, it's a long way there. also, the plane is cold so use that blanket i put in your backpack, and-"

you gave your mom a squeeze and briefly pulled away.

"i got it, mom. you told me all of this last night, remember? i even checked everything you said off before we left this morning so i wouldn't forget, so don't worry about me."

she managed a small smile and brought you back into the hug.

"let us know when you've arrived at hyein and her parent's house. and tell them we said hi and to take care of you."

you gleamed. "of course."

after making sure you had everything you needed, you gestured to your parents for a big group hug.

"i love you guys."

"ditto." your mom slapped your dad's shoulder, and you all laughed.

once you made it to the security checkpoint, you waved your parents one final goodbye, before the start of a long journey ahead.

"excuse me," you mumbled, narrowly avoiding bumping into others in the bustling crowd of the airport. there was a lot of people going back home after vacation, or going back to school or work after visiting home.

heaving a sigh of relief after making through the crowd, you took a moment to look around the area, a plethora of shops and restaurants standing before you. in doing so, you failed to realize you were still in public with thousands of people walking around you, and bumping shoulders with a girl.

"ah!" "ow!"

you widened your eyes as you turned to look at the person you just walked into, swiftly picking her bag up from the ground and handing it to her.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry. i wasn't paying attention," you said, bowing out of habit. the girl giggled. 'oh my god. she has the cutest laugh ever,' you thought to yourself, before looking up to see her face. 'oh my god. she's the cutest girl i've ever seen.'

"it's okay. at least we didn't fall over, right? are you hurt?"

snapping out of your daze (you were staring, and she definitely noticed, you think), you shook your head.

"no, i- i'm okay. are you?"

"mhm, i'm fine! don't worry about me."

you tried to muster out any words relating to asking the girl out, but when you opened your mouth she was already waving to you and turning around.

you cursed to yourself, frowning. "damn it, y/n. you can do all sorts of stupid stuff but you still can't even talk to a girl?"

for as long as you could remember, you've always been unlucky with the girls you talked to. for example, the girl you met at a music festival, who you went on a few dates with. she stopped talking to you after hearing about all the risky things you've done. or the girl who you were paired up with in your advanced painting class, who you almost dated. she cut things off with you because you were too much of a "genius" in art. you still thought that was an asshole move, because what does that even mean?

shaking your head, you forced yourself to stop thinking about your love life in ruins and instead started strolling around the spacious corridors of the airport. you made a mental note to buy something for hyein upon seeing the variety of gift shops lined up next to each other.

you sipped on your steaming cup of coffee, mindlessly scrolling on your phone to pass the time. your croissant laid half-eaten on the plate. the chatters of the people around you became white noise as you fell into the cycle of liking a post and scrolling down to the next one. if you zoned out enough, you could make out some of the conversations around you. you sighed.

'i miss mom and dad already...'

a bag being placed on the table interrupted your inner monologue before it could even start. startled, you looked up to see a girl. 'oh, a very pretty girl. wait, isn't this the girl from earlier?' you blink. 'shit! it's the girl from earlier!'

"excuse me, but could i take this seat?" she glanced around, then met your eyes. "there's, well. not exactly anywhere else to sit, ahaha..."

opening and closing your mouth, you wordlessly moved some of your things so she could set her cup down. she smiled at you, eyes crinkling up into slight crescents, and you think you've met the love of your life, judging by the way your heart thudded in your chest after seeing the human embodiment of an angel.

she took a sip of her drink. "thanks."

the atmosphere became suffocatingly awkward, and you nervously tried to redirect your gaze to anything but the pretty girl sitting in front of you. your attempts failed, unfortunately, because apparently trying not to look at someone is a lost cause, and your mind automatically filled with the brief memory of the stranger's laugh, smile, and face. giving up, you let your eyes find their way back to her face, surprised to see that she was already looking at you. you coughed.

"so," you started, "whEre-" 'what the hell. leave it up to me to have a voice crack while starting a conversation.' she giggled, and you bit your lip trying not to scream.

fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you cleared your throat and started again. "ahem. i um, meant to say... where, where are you headed to?"

she hummed, taking another sip of her drink. "korea. i'm... hoping to make music there. where are you going?"

you nodded. "music, huh... that sounds really cool," a look of realization dawned on your face, and your eyes widened. "wait, did you say korea?"

a questioning look appears on the girl's face, and she nodded. "yeah, korea. why?"

"i'm going to korea too! i got accepted to SNU's college of fine arts. i paint and stuff."

her mouth formed an "o" shape and she gave you an impressed look.

"that's impressive! it must've been stressful for you."

you grinned, taking a small bite of your almost-forgotten croissant. "it was. i almost lost hope, refreshing my email page over and over at night," you said, shaking your head. "by the way, what's your name?"

the girl looked startled, clearly not expecting the sudden question. the flash of surprise only lasted briefly, however, and she hastily cleared her throat to reply.

"hanni," she smiles, "hanni pham. what's yours?"

"y/n. lee y/n."

"well, y/n... it was really nice meeting you. maybe i'll see you in korea. you could design one of my album covers, haha."

you gulped, trying to ignore the burning heat rushing to your cheeks at the way your name rolled off her tongue. "oh! yeah. it was great talking with you, hanni. and if we do meet again... i'll do my best with the design."

she took her finished cup of whatever she ordered, and her bag, and waved to you with that angelic smile of hers as she walked away with her suitcase.

"nævis, calling-" as if right on cue, your phone's ringtone went off, the beat drop of aespa's next level playing at an extremely loud and embarrassing volume. you sheepishly mouthed sorry to the people around you, who were staring because of the noise, and picked up the call.

you cleared your throat, lowering your voice. "hello?"

the excited voice of hyein rang out into your ear, "unnie! y/n unnie!"

you winced and moved the phone speaker slightly further away from your ear.

"hi, hyein. what's up?"

you heard some shuffling around, and what seemed to be like your aunt's voice scolding hyein for yelling.

"hello y/n, sorry about hyein, she's really excited to have you here soon."

you subconsciously smiled at the thought of your little cousin counting down the days until your arrival. "don't worry about it, auntie. did you need something?"

there was some whining from hyein in the background, and your aunt sternly called her name, effectively shutting her up. "nothing, nothing. just wanted to check in with you. you're at the airport now, yes?"

you nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "yeah, i am. i got some coffee at a cafe and i'm about to head to the gate. by the way, did you guys want anything for the last time in a while? the chocolates at the gift shops are always good, i know you and uncle like them."

there's a thud, and you blinked at the silence that followed. you waited, checking your phone to see if the call was still connected, and raising an eyebrow when hyein's voice finally crackled out into the microphone.

"haah... haaaah... finally..."

"hyein?"

"i want a kangaroo keychain! the cute plush ones!" you once again pulled the phone speaker away from your ear when she yelled again.

'aren't those really expensive?' you thought, slightly grimacing at the thought of your soon-to-be empty wallet. 'oh well.'

you laughed as you pressed the phone to your ear to speak again. "okay, okay. anything else?"

"get two. i wanna match with you, unnie!" by now your wallet was really crying. 'the things i do for you, hyein.'

"alright... well, i have to get to the gate now. i'll see you later? say bye to auntie for me," you told hyein, finishing your pastry and cleaning up your table before getting up from your seat.

"okay! bye unnie!" and the call dropped. you sighed, shaking your head while smiling, and started making your way towards your gate.

(you held the small keychains in your hand. they were the size of your palm, and you turned it around to check the price tag.

"holy shit, 15 dollars for this tiny thing?!"

"it's for hyein, she wants to match. it's for hyein, it's for hyein, it's for hyein...")

"hanni?"

"y/n?"

well, that was sooner than you thought. as soon as you made it to the seating area, you spotted a familiar face: the pretty girl named hanni that you bumped into earlier. before, you couldn't start a conversation with her without stuttering and stammering, but the feeling of your lighter wallet must've left you more easygoing after mourning your diminished funds on the way to the gate. (you were at least glad you could make hyein happy.)

she gestured to the seat next to her, her bag occupying it moments prior. grateful, you thanked her, and moved to sit, setting your suitcase in front of you. just as you started to relax, hanni gently tapped your shoulder, nearly making you jump.

"fancy seeing you here?" she said, her grin accompanied by a lighthearted tone.

you breathed a sigh of relief. her lopsided smile sent waves of comfort through you, allowing you to ease into the moment.

"yeah, what are the chances? we're on the same flight," you remarked, a small grin settling on your face as well—hanni's smile was very contagious when you weren't distracted by her beauty, you noted.

hanni nodded, grin widening. "seems like the universe has its plans. maybe it's fate?" she quipped.

"haha, maybe."

a moment of silence passed, and you both burst into a fit of giggles.

you never believed in fate, despite your friends talking your ear off about it. whenever they asked for your input, you brushed it off as a silly superstition. comes with messing around doing stunts all the time, you supposed. after all, you were unpredictable, and so was the world. the thought of your future being predetermined made you shudder.

wanting to continue the conversation, you racked your brain for anything she told you earlier. what was it she was doing... ah, music!

you cleared your throat, bringing hanni out of a daze. she turned her attention to you, eyebrows raised.

"you're doing music, right?" she nodded, "yeah, i've already signed with a company and all."

"really? which company?"

she hummed thoughtfully, and pursed her lips. "sorry, i'm not allowed to tell."

"ah, that's okay," you said, scratching your neck. "do you play an instrument? or do you sing?"

"i do both, actually!" she said with a smile, her voice warming. "but i'm focusing on singing. what about you? you do art, right?"

you perked up at the mention of art. "yes, i do, i love painting," you said, eyes brightening.

"actually, there was this time where i tried to smash my head through the canvas for a project- hey, don't laugh, let me finish! i tried to make it so that the end product would be my face, with action lines outside the rip marks, but the canvas broke in half, and i ended up with a ton of scratches on my face..."

the two of you continued to chatter away, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you. your surroundings became a blur as you lost yourselves in the moment, unaware of anything happening outside of your bubble of conversation.

you suddenly remembered that you were waiting for a flight, and frowned. "hey, don't you think it's been a while since they've said anything? it's close to boarding ti-"

the calm voice of a flight attendant interrupted your question.

"attention all passengers going from melbourne to incheon: there's been some technical difficulties, and we are disappointed to inform you that your flight will be delayed. departure time will be pushed back by approximately one hour. thank you."

as murmurs spread through the gate and disappointed voices filled the air, you felt a sense of frustration wash over you. fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly sent a text to your aunt about the delay, your irritation evident in your furrowed brow.

hanni puffed out her cheeks in frustration. "ugh, unlucky."

you nodded in agreement, a sigh escaping your lips. "yeah, it's frustrating. now we're gonna be there even later in the night," you replied, your gaze shifting from your phone to meet hanni's disappointed eyes.

"i guess there's nothing we can do about it now."

"yeah, i guess so."

hanni always thought she led an honest life, steering out of trouble and focusing on her passion for music. she made sure to feed the dogs, keep up with her studies, help her mom cook, and get along with her younger sister. she had a lot of friends, and she was in a dance cover group with some of them too. she played the ukulele, guitar, and piano, and she sang as well.

then she auditioned for hybe, and passed. her family was proud of her, and she left to korea for training shortly after. she missed home a lot. like waking up to milly and mia's excited barks for breakfast, or bickering with her sister in the car on the way home from shopping, or having family bonding time during dinner.

love was the last thing on her mind when she started training. sure, she's had some crushes here and there, but she's never pursued any of them. that was all there was to it; just a silly crush. when she became a trainee, any thoughts of crushes in hanni's mind were pushed aside for dancing and singing lessons, as well as korean classes.

but after your fateful encounter (or, well, encounters) at the airport, hanni thought she could forget about coming back to training for at least one day.

from the moment she saw you, hanni pham was dazzled. when you bumped into her, you immediately apologized, and even picked up her bag for her. when you finally looked at her, and she could see your face, hanni almost screamed. you were so, so, beautiful. and she had to make her leave before she actually screamed.

then hanni saw you again at a random airport cafe, and everything clicked. lady luck must've finally looked on her side this time, because there were clearly open tables all around you, but you still let her sit with you. with that, she let the conversation flow between the two of you.

by the end of your second encounter, hanni must've thought her luck ran out by now and left with an open offer, knowing you would never see her again after she left.

and then you finally reunited at the gate. well, if hanni thought her luck ran out at the cafe, then it had definitely run out now. there was absolutely no way she could get any luckier than being on the same flight as you.

was it bad she's started to develop a crush on you?

there was a thump next to her, and hanni felt an added weight fall on her shoulder. she turned to see if you dropped something, but it seemed that your head dropped on her shoulder, having fallen asleep. your head. on her shoulder. you fell asleep on her shoulder.

hanni's face was bright red at the realization. you fell asleep! on her shoulder! her body immediately tensed, instinctively trying to get you off, but gave up after you only shifted closer to her. and well, she didn't want to interrupt your sleep, since you seemed exhausted just moments ago.

she couldn't help but think your sleeping face was beautiful too.

"attention all passengers going from melbourne to incheon: apologies for the wait. boarding will begin in 15 minutes. thank you."

the announcement jolted you awake, and you sleepily rubbed your eyes and lifted your head from where you were leaning it on, stretching your neck to hear a few satisfying cracks.

"did you sleep well? you just suddenly passed out; i was worried," a soft voice asked.

you tried to blink out more of the sleep out of your eyes and focus on the voice next to you, finally seeing hanni's concerned expression.

clearing your throat, which was hoarse from your nap, you offered her a sheepish smile. "yeah, i slept well. i was so anxious last night that i went to sleep really late, that's probably why. sorry about that."

hanni nodded. "no worries! going away from home is scary, i agree."

you tried to reach for your phone, only to look down and see hanni's jacket draped over you. 'huh?' you thought. 'wait, come to think of it, what was i sleeping on?'

you shot a glance over to hanni, who tilted her head. you squinted your eyes, trying to connect the dots. then, it hit you like a pile of bricks: you fell asleep on hanni's shoulder. your cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment, and you cringed at even the thought of it.

'god, that's embarrassing!' you thought, feeling a sense of mortification burning in your chest. 'she even used her jacket as a blanket for me, and she asked if i was okay when i woke up...'

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you blurted out, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. "i really didn't mean to fall asleep on you, i mean i didn't even realize i was falling asleep, but-"

hanni giggled, the pleasant sound resounding through your ears.

"it's okay, y/n. i don't mind."

'ah... it's almost like an angel got sent down from earth.'

despite you intruding on her personal space, hanni was still so kind and considerate to you, even though you only met each other a couple hours ago. a heavy blush overtook your face.

"here's your jacket back, at least," you offered, a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment showing in your tone.

she shook her head, waving her hands. "oh no, you can keep it on. you must be cold in only that sweater."

you opened your mouth to protest, but ended up just smiling.

was it too soon to say you liked her?

the flight attendant walked up and down the aisle, checking for everyone's seatbelts. you and hanni sat comfortably towards the front of the plane, flashing friendly smiles at each other.

you and hanni sitting next to each other? what? wait, let's rewind. how did you find yourself sitting next to hanni, the girl of your dreams who you were talking to at the gate, and at the cafe, and outside of the security checkpoint?

well, the two of you were in the same boarding group. and taking a look at your tickets, you were actually seated right next to each other.

funny how fate plays out, huh.

it seemed like hanni was thinking the same thing, because she started giggling, nudging your shoulder.

"it's funny how fate plays out, huh?"

"absolutely," you replied with a grin, matching hanni's playful tone. "seems like fate has quite the sense of humor, doesn't it?"

hanni giggled again, her laughter echoing softly in the aisle.

"definitely," she agreed, a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes. "who knew our paths would cross like this? and especially so many times in a day?"

as the flight attendants made their final rounds, you relaxed in your seat and turned to observe hanni, who was looking out the window. her gaze wandered, from the people on the ground crew to other planes preparing for takeoff. you noticed her shiver, and quickly took her jacket off from your shoulders and draped it over both of your laps.

surprised, she looked over to you with raised eyebrows, then smiling at you, mouthing a 'thanks'. she turned her attention back to the window.

you directed your gaze to your lap, leaning back in your seat. your seatbelt kept you from slouching back. you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you unlocked it to see a text from hyein.

from: mom's favorite child (🐣) UNNIE!!!!!! 😚😚 what do u want for dinner moms asking also did u get the keychains 😈

you laughed to yourself, typing in your response. you purposely waited between each message sent, to tease her; hyein always hated when you did that.

to: mom's favorite child (🐣) hi hyein 🤓 i want kimchi jjigae!! also [attachment: 1 image] yes i did

you almost drooled at the thought of your aunt's kimchi-jjigae. the first time you had it, you were hooked. no matter how many times your mom tried to recreate her sister's cooking, it never hit the same as when you'd stay at hyein's house for the holidays and wake up to the smell of your favorite dish in the morning.

from: mom's favorite child (🐣) got it o7 (replied to [attachment: 1 image]) ↪ AHH THEYRE SO CUTE OMGOMG (replied to "hi hyein 🤓") ↪ who are you calling a nerd.

giggling to yourself, you decided to leave hyein on read, swiping out of her contact after reacting to her text confirming your request with a heart.

the jets of the plane fired up, starting to taxi down the runway, and you pocketed your phone and joined hanni in looking out the window.

"have you flown here before?" she asked, keeping her gaze outside.

you hummed, thinking back to your very eventful past visits to your aunt's place for vacation.

"yeah. i have family here, that's where i'm staying for college." you said. "i've gone over a bunch of times for the holidays."

the girl next to you stayed quiet, still staring outside. the plane started to tilt up, and you could see hanni bite her lip. as the aircraft gained elevation, going higher and higher, her eyes grew shut and her face scrunched up.

then her hand flew to yours, clasping yours with an almost crushing grip, eliciting a slight wince from you.

"hanni...?"

her eyes remained tightly shut as she stuttered out a response. "so-sorry! i'm a bit... afraid. of- of planes."

you felt the plane make a sharp tilt to the right, and the left, and hanni's grip only intensified.

"no matter how many times, i- i fly... it doesn't seem to get any better... i'm sorry," she mumbled. if you weren't craning your head to listen, you wouldn't have caught half of what she was saying, considering she was trying to focus on containing her fear.

her hold on you loosened, almost as if she was ashamed, but you only responded by firmly squeezing her hand back. if she's scared, then you should comfort her, right? it's only the right thing to do.

the action caused her to whip her head towards you, her gaze darting between your hand tightly grasping hers and your face. this went on for a few seconds, your concern for the girl growing as the moment stretched on. you watched her closely, noticing the furrow in her brow and the tension in her soft features.

when she finally stopped at your face, you offered her a comforting smile. she blinked a few times, widening her eyes, and reciprocating the gesture.

the plane started to stabilize in the air, letting hanni's anxiety simmer down while you rubbed soothing circles into her palm. it seemed to help, since her shoulders visibly relaxed as she took deep breaths, flashing a grateful smile to you. despite the plane now flying steadily, you never let go of her hand, continuing to offer a sense of solace in case the girl's anxiety spiked.

after around 10 minutes (you didn't really know, your watch was in your bag and you still hadn't let go of hanni's hand) a flight attendant started making her first round down the aisle for drinks and biscuits. as she reached your row, her cheeks raised up in a cooing smile, her gaze clearly lingering on you and hanni's now-intertwined hands.

"aren't you two just the cutest couple," she remarked, her smile widening.

hanni's cheeks flushed, and she quickly shook her head, stammering, "oh, no, i'm, we're not-"

before she could deny the attendant's assumptions, though, you swiftly interjected, flashing a grateful smile to the attendant. "thank you. we'll have a cup of water," you glanced at hanni, thinking for a moment, "and some hot tea."

the attendant gladly poured your refreshments, sending you a "hwaiting!" gesture before moving on to the next row.

"i'm so sorry," you turned to hanni, releasing her hand. a wave of disappointment hit you at the loss of hanni's warmth. she seemed to share the feeling, although you didn't notice.

"it's fine. it would've been embarrassing for all three of us, anyway."

"yeah..."

the two of you turned away from each other, blushes overtaking your features.

'the thought of dating her doesn't seem so bad.'

it had been about an hour and a half since takeoff. you texted some of your friends, who checked in on you frequently, asking things like 'are you dead' or 'did the plane crash yet', to which you replied 'not yet sadly' or something similar. you were doodling random cats in your notes app in between texts.

to your left, hanni had pulled out a book, seeming invested in the pages filled with words of plot. she was almost at the end, you noticed—there were only a few pages left.

a few more minutes passed, and the girl closed the book with a content sigh. after tucking the book safely into her carry-on bag, she peeked around her, her eyes landing on you, scanning your features.

"hey, how'd you get this scar on your cheek?"

you felt a poke on your upper cheekbone, hanni's finger pressing lightly on the tender patch of skin. you brought your hand up to your face to touch the already fading scar, and tried to remember which incident it was from.

"i think it's from when i jumped out one of the school windows," you answered, turning to look at hanni.

"oh," she replied, then raised her eyebrow. "wait, what? you jumped out the window?"

you scratched your neck, feeling embarrassed. 'she's definitely gonna be scared away after i tell her,' you thought ruefully. glancing over to hanni, you quickly realized you weren't going to get away with not telling her the backstory of the scar.

you sighed. "it's not that interesting, i mean..."

the girl beside you watched with expectant eyes, eagerly awaiting your next words. you pondered, wondering if you should really tell her.

"i set off some firecrackers on the school roof, and they found out it was me not even five minutes later," you explained, "i sped down the stairs and hid in some cleaning closet. but they somehow knew i was in there, so i had to jump out the window and run home before they caught me."

a few beats of silence followed, your self consciousness catching up to you as the tip of your ears flushed bright red. when you sneaked a glance to your left, you saw hanni's mouth agape.

"wow," she blinked. "that's insane."

"i know."

you rubbed your elbow, fidgeting with the fabric of your sleeve. 'she's definitely weirded out. see, y/n, this is why girls never-'

"but you're okay, right?"

'huh?' you thought to yourself, then facing hanni. she had a worried smile on her face, head tilted to the side. your cheeks burned. you couldn't win against pretty girls.

"oh. yeah, i am. i just landed in a bush, and a branch scratched me."

she nodded, scanning your features. aside from the one on your cheek, there were a few other minor scars on your face, from similar events, although those were more hidden. there were a lot of them around your body too, from burn marks to scratches and cuts.

"what's this one from, then?" she pointed under your ear, where a small scar from a healed cut laid.

"this one? it's kind of recent. i was trying to make an outline of myself with throwing darts, but my friend had terrible aim. it grazed my neck."

hanni winced, cringing as she imagined how that felt for you. "yikes."

she thought for a moment, a memory resurfacing at the mention of darts.

"that reminds me, there was a time me and my friends were playing darts, but we all kept missing the board," she smiled, reminiscing on the past moment. "we hit everything in the house but the dartboard."

you smiled as well, finding humor in the similarities between you and hanni's experiences. well, except for the fact that your friend was supposed to miss you, the target.

"what did your parents say?" you asked, genuinely curious. your parents usually restricted your actions, like not letting you go out after school or supervising your purchases, but ultimately let you off the hook in the end. you thanked them for that mentally, albeit feeling a tad guilty for being spoiled.

she tapped her chin. "they just scolded us and told us not to do it again. and we had to clean up our mess—there were a bunch of darts on the ground, and things that fell because of the darts."

you laughed, finding her memory relatable. there were countless times you were made to clean up your messes, although you didn't exactly learn from your "mistakes." (you considered them "happy accidents," as bob ross said. alas, your peers, relatives, and teachers alike, disagreed.)

"how did your parents react to your injuries?" hanni questioned, her expression softening.

"well..."

you and hanni started getting to know each other better, warm and lively conversation filling the air. you learned that she was raised in melbourne, and that both of her parents were vietnamese. she had two dogs and a younger sister, and she played a variety of instruments.

you told her about some other incidents, to which she was amused by, and touched lightly on the awards you've received for your paintings.

topics shifted constantly, the two of you seeming not to run out of things to talk about. with debates on something as trivial as which juice flavor was better, more memories from your childhood came flooding back, the two of you sharing your experiences and bonding over them.

'this is nice,' you thought, a glimmer of hope rising. 'maybe, things will go well this time.'

from: 🆕👖 (soon) meanjee 🐻 hanni are you on the plane? kitty kang 😾 did you bring the tim tams dani ☀ omg did you get tim tams for us 🥺🥺 you yes dw i also made a friend meanjee 🐻 who dont lie 🤣😂 you excuse me her names y/n shes an artist guys shes so cute 😭 we kept bumping into each other and guess what kitty kang 😾 you tripped over yourself? dani ☀ you asked her out!? you (replied to kitty kang 😾: you tripped...) ↪ do you want the tim tams or not kitty kang. (replied to dani ☀: you asked her...) ↪ NO we just met but i was TRYING to say that we bumped into each other accidentally like 3 times and we're on the same flight and sit next to each other dani ☀ it's destiny!! meanjee 🐻 i never thought i'd see the day hanni having luck in girls 💀 you WOW im js gna ignore that. remember my fear of flying? she held my hand the whole time bc she saw i was scared :(( shes js so AUGH :] i think she likes me too kitty kang 😾 she has more game than you im glad she could comfort you though dani ☀ AWW that's so cute you two are so cute i wanna meet her! you maybe if things go well with her hyeinie THE BEST MAKN😎E hiii whats going on (replied to you: excuse me her names...) ↪ wait did u say y/n?? you yeah why? hyeinie THE BEST MAKN😎E um actually its nothing i have to help mom with cooking bye unnies!! you ???

hanni stared at your hand, which was holding out an earbud, in confusion. she tilted her head.

"ah, sorry. do you want to listen to something with me? you can choose the song," you smiled, showing your phone screen which displayed the spotify search menu. (you made sure that it stayed on the search bar and not showing one of your many embarrassing playlist names.)

her eyebrows raised, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she processed your words. you swallowed nervously, about to retract your hand until she took the earbud from your hold, her hands brushing against yours briefly.

"sure," she agreed, then reaching for the device from your other, outstretched palm. "do you like daniel caesar?"

your bangs fell over your face as you nodded eagerly, blocking your vision. you moved to tuck your hair behind your ear, though hanni beat you to it, her cold hands contrasting with your now-burning-red ears.

hanni cleared her throat with a quiet cough, breaking into a smile shortly after. the two of you listened to the melody of the song that was being played into your shared earbuds, hanni occasionally humming along.

"and i'd love to make you mine," she softly sang, her gentle voice filling your ears. she sounded like cotton candy, so sweet, like honey drizzled over warm toast on a sunny afternoon. each word that she sang sent you into bliss, arrows of cupid piercing your heart. 'maybe,' you thought, 'just maybe. i'll ask her out on a date by the end of this flight.'

the last few seconds of the song faded out and started playing whatever was recommended by your spotify (which was a wave to earth song) but you couldn't pay attention as you found yourself replaying hanni's singing in your head.

noticing your furrowed eyebrows and your dazed look, hanni nudged your shoulder. "sorry, was i too loud? i tend to sing along sometimes; it's always been a habit of mine."

you widened your eyes, shaking your head no. "no, you're fine! i think your singing is quite nice, actually. you have," you blushed, "a very pretty voice."

her cheeks lifted into a closed smile, sending a flutter through your chest. you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your thumping heart. at least you didn't panic at everything she did, unlike the past 10? 20? times she did so much as smile.

"thank you," she giggled, leaning her head on yours. deep breaths were not going to help in your situation, since it seemed to get even worse for your heart every time. instead, you focused on the song playing in your ear, and the rise and fall of hanni's chest. it wasn't too long after the next song started when you started hearing small snores next to you.

'ah,' you thought. 'she must've been tired.'

moving her head to sit more comfortably on your shoulder, you brushed her bangs out of her face, unconsciously smiling at how peaceful she looked asleep. you adjusted the jacket that was laid over both of your laps to cover more of her legs instead of yours, slightly shivering as you instantly felt the cold from the cabin aircon replacing the warmth from hanni’s fleece jacket.

‘oh, well.’

you rested your head on top of hers, sarah kang’s once in a moon quietly playing into your shared earbuds, and you let yourself slowly drift off to join hanni in dreamland.

"mmph..."

you groaned as you rubbed your eyes sleepily. your neck was stiff, your shoulder was sore, and you had 12 different cramps in your legs from your uncomfortable position in the airplane seat.

hanni shifted on your shoulder, and you panicked, thinking you might've woken her up from your stretching. thankfully, her soft snores continued after a few moments.

you sighed in relief. you would've felt insanely guilty if you ended up waking her.

stretching your shoulders back, (though still careful not to wake the sleeping girl leaning on you) you reached into your backpack under the seat in front of you, and pulled out your sketchbook.

the thing itself was around a year old. over that year, you'd nearly filled it to the brim with dozens of drawings, including ones you drew on buses, trains, at parks, in history class, on your bed, everywhere. similarly, you kept a sketchbook for each year prior to the one currently in your hand. it was almost time to retire this one; you only had about 3 pages left.

taking a small pen out from your wallet, you pressed the fine tip to the smooth beige paper, soon letting your arm move freely across the page, sketching things you could see around you—the overhead aircon, someone's paper cup of water from the recent beverage round sitting on their tray table, and...

you looked to hanni, then back to your sketchbook. you'd subconsciously started drawing hanni while looking around your surroundings (or, lack thereof). although it was quite difficult to get a decent look of her features as a whole, you managed to sketch out the way her bangs framed her face, the curve of her eyelashes, and her mouth slightly ajar.

the people around you must've thought you were crazy watching you try to lean forward to look at hanni, while also trying to keep your movements minimal as to not wake her. but that was okay. people back home already saw you as crazy when you did anything, especially after the wheelie incident, which you didn't want to think about.

after finishing the initial sketch, your hand appeared to have a mind of its own, because it moved to the next page over and started doodling more of hanni. you squinted your eyes, trying to remember what she looked like when she bumped into you, when she sat across from you at the cafe, and when she was sipping from the cup of tea you called for her a few hours ago.

the page was filled with hanni's face in the blink of an eye. you didn't know how it happened, but it would be really embarrassing if said girl woke up and saw this right now.

"mmm..."

...why didn't anything go your way?

you flipped back to the page full of doodles of the cabin before she could see anything, covering the page with your sleeve. you tensed your shoulders in nervousness, quietly clearing your throat.

"sleep well, hanni?"

hanni's lips upturned into a sleepy smile (you screamed a little mentally at her cuteness) and she nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

"thanks for letting me use you as a pillow," she said, rubbing your numb shoulder.

you laughed to yourself, mostly because you couldn't feel your shoulder as hanni touched it. "it's no problem. i wasn't going to let you have neck cramps from leaning on the wall."

she nodded again, stretching out her muscles and letting out a big yawn. her eyes shifted back towards you and down at your lap, where you placed your sketchbook.

"what's that?"

a bead of cold sweat rolled down your forehead, and you gulped. what if she was creeped out at your drawings of her? then, your mind wandered to the moments you shared just earlier, and you thought, 'there's no way hanni would act like that.'

you shyly uncovered the page, passing the book to the girl, watching intently as she pored over the details that you'd meticulously drawn. her mouth gaped in astonishment, in awe of your ability to capture the scene around you.

she turned her head towards you, eyes sparkling. "this is amazing, y/n!"

you bashfully scratched your neck, giving her a sheepish smile.

"it's nothing, really," you tried to say, but her attention was already on the next page.

"this is... me?"

crap.

"um, yeah. it is. there's not much to see from our seats, so i ended up drawing mostly you," you tried to defend, hoping she wouldn't take your actions badly. "you're also, very," you cleared your throat, blushing, "pretty. very... pretty, yeah."

she grinned, cheeks dusted pink, and trailed her hand down the page, tracing over the soft features—her features—that you'd effortlessly drawn as she slept.

"can i keep it?" she asked, looking into your eyes for approval.

shrinking back from the unexpected eye contact, you gulped and nodded. you were thinking about giving it to her anyway.

"yes. i'd love to give it to you, as something to remember me by, haha."

after you finished your sentence, you gently grabbed the sketchbook from hanni's already offering hands, and left your signature on it. the ripping sound of the book hummed as you removed the page from the confines of the spiral spine, handing it to your seatmate.

her grin grew wider as she accepted the paper. "thank you so much, seriously. this is so cool!"

"it's no problem," you laughed, tipping your invisible hat to her.

the flight intercom beeped.

"hello, this is your pilot speaking. we have arrived in incheon, local time is 10:42 pm. please make sure your seatbelt is secured and your seat trays and window blinds are up, and also unplug any devices you may have. enjoy your stay in korea and have a good night."

hanni, who just tucked your drawing into her bag, looked over to you with surprised eyes. "it's the end already? i swear we've just been here for like, 3 hours."

you were shocked too, your eyebrows raised. "i know, right? but i guess we did spend a lot of it sleeping."

"yeah, you're right," she giggled.

you took a deep breath, not knowing what to say. "it was, um... really nice getting to know you. i know it was weird seeing each other so much in a day by chance," you said, "and uh, if you'd like, we could, um, go out on a date sometime?"

a scarlet blush overtook your face, and you think the people behind and in front of you must've heard you say that because you heard a gasp or two from your surroundings.

hanni's face was terribly red as well, and it made you feel a little better knowing you weren't having one-sided feelings.

"o-okay. deal."

the rest of the time spent after that was a blur to you, and it took you until you sat down on hyein's living room couch that you forgot to give hanni your number.

holy shit, y/n. you asked a girl out on a date. and after spending basically the whole day together, you forgot to exchange contact info with her? this was on a whole new level of sick and twisted, even for you.

"we're home!" a gruff voice called, followed by the sound of the heavy door closing, and the sound of excited footsteps followed, rushing in your direction.

a minute later, you got tackled by a very hyper hyein.

"unnie! unnie, you're here!"

her hold on you was incredibly tight. you don't think you could squeeze out even if you wanted to. nonetheless, you returned the embrace, patting her on the back and nuzzling your nose into her messy hair.

"hey, hyeinie. i missed you," you murmured, moving your hand up to card through her dark brown locks.

your younger cousin's eyes sparkled, and she broke out into a huge grin. you felt yourself being squeezed even tighter, before you coughed and wheezed out, "can't- breathe."

your uncle gently separated hyein from you, and you stood up so you could bow and give him a hug.

"welcome back, y/n!" he laughed, giving you a rough slap on the back which made you stumble a little.

your uncle was a warmhearted man, much like your father, even though they weren't blood-related. you didn't exactly know what he worked as, but he was always dressed to the nines whenever he went out, regardless of the occasion.

"i'm glad to be back. i'll be staying for a while, too," you added.

turning and smiling at hyein, you ruffled her hair, making her stand up and do it back to you. thankfully, you dodged in time. wait, did you shrink? or...

"hyein, you got taller again!" you exclaimed. last christmas, she was at about your height; a little above average, a solid 5'6. but looking at her now, she was probably around 5'7, almost as tall as her dad.

the younger girl blinked, staring wide-eyed at you. she slid her hand from the top of her head to the empty space above yours. being honest, the difference wasn't all that much, but your brow twitched at having to even slightly flicker your eyes up to make eye contact.

"did i?"

this was starting to irk you. you knew that hyein just realized this was something she could hold against you, and that was the last thing you wanted to happen.

defeatedly, you sighed.

"dinner is ready!" your aunt called from the kitchen. your eyes lit up as the scent of your favorite kimchi-jjigae wafted through the air. bless your aunt's soul.

you slowly turned to your cousin, a glint in your eye.

"last one there is a rotten egg."

and then, chaos.

"y/n, you haven't been here in a while. now that you're here to stay, would you like to do anything in korea?"

you adjusted the bandaid on your knee, and hissed as hyein pressed on the bruise just below it. of course, you hurt yourself while trying to race the younger lee to the dining room.

snapping your eyes to your aunt, who was setting the pot of stew in the middle of the dining table, you tried to think of something you've never had a chance to do. but you've been to korea countless times before, and you'd always gotten to do something new. it'd been around a year since you last came, since your relatives came to you for christmas 7 months ago.

"i guess... just walking around like a local? going to a café, walking around the city. and..." you bit your lip, struggling to remember the name of the theme park that was so famous.

"oh!" you snapped your fingers, "lotte world!"

hyein's hand twitched. one glance at her, and you could see that she was practically buzzing with excitement. she looked as if she was about to bounce off the walls like a pinball. you pinched her arm, causing her to yelp.

"lotte world! that sounds fun," your uncle commented, "i wish i could join. work's been busy lately."

your aunt laughed, "me too! but y/n," she shot you a stern look, "don't go causing trouble for people. i don't want to see you on the news for the wrong reasons."

'that's very encouraging and totally non-threatening!' you shivered. still, her words only tempted you. knowing you, it wouldn't be long into the school year before you were a known figure on campus.

portions of the stew were distributed to everyone's bowl, and you licked your lips. you didn't have anything on the plane, since you'd slept through most of it and missed the in-flight meal.

"thank you for the food," you said, before bringing a spoonful of the stew to your lips.

with that single bite, you think you've ascended to heaven and above. you wolfed down the rest of the food, eating like you hadn't eaten in a week (which you felt like you didn't) and before you knew it, you'd finished your dinner. seeing this, hyein also tried to finish her food quickly, but was stopped by your aunt.

taking a few swigs of water, you looked to your aunt, who watched you in bewilderment. "auntie, that was so good. seriously, that was soooo good. can i have seconds?"

everyone at the table broke out into a fit of laughter.

"of course, y/n."

as dinner went on, and you caught up with hyein and her parents, everyone had finished their serving, and you, your third serving. you tried to help your aunt with the dishes, but she just shooed you away to you and hyein's shared room.

despite already having been in the bedroom to drop off your luggage, you let your cousin lead you to it. it was very spacious, having enough room to hold a sizable tv that you could watch netflix on from the bed, and enough room to walk around comfortably. hyein's desk was messy, as always. it was filled with school papers, colored pencils and highlighters, and a book you got her the last time you visited.

speaking of the bed, it had been replaced by a very charming bunk bed, complete with fluffy white comforters and a surprisingly stable ladder. you already claimed the bottom bunk as yours, your phone laying on the plush pillow.

"tada!" hyein presented to you, doing jazz hands towards the bed. "i know you've already seen it, but try laying in it! it's pretty comfy for a bunk bed."

following her suggestion, you went ahead and sat yourself on the bed, immediately sighing in content. moving your phone so you could lay down, you swung your legs over the bedframe so you could soak in the comforting feeling of the bed. the mattress was fairly soft, perfect for your strange sleeping positions. you flashed an upraised thumb to hyein, who grinned triumphantly.

she puffed up her cheeks. "see?"

"i do see, hyeinie," you said, reaching for your backpack, "before i forget..."

the younger lee gasped at the sight of the matching kangeroo plush keychains, even though she'd already seen them over text. one was purple, her favorite color, and the other, blue. attached to their hands were small magnets, which would allow them to connect together.

she squealed, holding the purple one to her chest. "they're so cute! i love it, thank you y/n-unnie."

you were, once again, brought into a soul-crushing hug. 'at least hyein is happy.'

10 minutes later and you and hyein were now wrapped up in a fiery race of mario kart. you had successfully hooked up your switch to the tv just a bit ago, and of course you had to compete with her in your shared favorite game. it was a tradition for the two of you to play through at least two rounds of the grand prix mode, usually playing for the special cup for one of the rounds.

a hand covered your field of vision, and you batted it away, groaning at your little cousin. "stop, i was winning!"

she cheekily stuck out her tongue, swiftly overtaking you in the race. you cursed whoever picked the mushroom cup (you did) because the piranha plants in sweet sweet canyon were beating your ass, and your rank just kept dropping after hyein rudely interrupted your groove with her hand.

"ahhh..." you sighed as a bot passed you on the second lap. setting the cpu level at the maximum was a mistake. hastily, you collected the power up block, your eyes lighting up seeing the formidable blue shell on the dice roll. spotting the shortcut, you performed a sharp-angled drift that you were only able to do after years of perfecting the technique, and expertly boosted yourself to catch yourself up to 4th place.

it appeared that hyein was too focused on smoothly driving through the track, so she didn't notice your newly-acquired trump card. you smirked. 'she won't see it coming,' you mischievously thought.

it was now the third lap. you were saving the shell for right before the finish line, and you were currently in a solid 3rd place, with hyein in 1st and a bot in front of you.

the younger lee glanced at your side of the screen and widened her eyes. 'did she just now notice i had the blue shell?'

"unnie! you can't! i'm so close to winning!" she shouted. the finish line was nearly in sight. the bot slipped on a banana peel and your smile only widened as you watched the flailing animation while passing by. hyein tried kicking you to distract you, but it was no use. you had already thrown the power up that would help you win the race.

"checkmate," you smugly said as you patted hyein's back. the girl was watching the finish screen in despair, gripping her controller tightly in annoyance.

she slowly turned to you, a menacingly determined look on her face. "i'll win the next one. it's thwomp ruins, you suck at thwomp ruins."

damn it. she was right.

hyein ended up winning the next race, as she declared. you always had trouble avoiding the obstacles on the track, much to your dismay. with that win, she also won the cup, because she also won the first two races. you blamed it on the jetlag.

(when you awoke, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. you blinked, barely making out the image of hyein laying on you, softly snoring. you checked your phone. 5:12 am. well, whatever. it was too early to think about anything. gently combing your fingers through her hair, you fell back asleep.)

“y/n?”

the door to your shared bedroom creaked open, and you shoved the covers over your face. 

“y/n, it’s 11:30, wake up,” the voice called.

slowly, you peeked from under the comforter that was very much doing its job at keeping you comfortable, to see your aunt standing in the doorway with a ladle. reluctantly, you climbed out of bed.

"morning, auntie," you mumbled as you rubbed your eyes, making your way to the bedroom door.

she stepped aside to let you exit the room. "good morning, sleepyhead."

you spent a few minutes to brush your teeth and wash your face in the bathroom before coming out to the living room. the house was eerily quiet without the presence of your uncle and hyein.

...wait, where's hyein?

looking around suspiciously, you still found no trace of the younger girl in the house. she was gone when you woke up, too. where could she have gone? it was summer break, and hyein was barely entering high school.

coughing, you asked your aunt, "um, where's hyein gone?"

"oh, she's at the company. she has practice today, didn't she tell you?"

"what practice?"

"...dance practice? vocal lessons? she's debuting this month, remember?"

debut... dance... vocal... that rings a bell...

'wait, what the fuck? is hyein a kpop idol?'

your heart beat faster at the revelation. hyein? your cute little cousin who you swore had just graduated from elementary school two years ago? you knew she took dance lessons, and her other activities that came to a halt last year, but... debut? she was still a kid! and it sounded like this debut was serious, the real next step in her career.

your emotions were all jumbled up upon thinking more on the matter. why didn't she tell you?

"y/n? hey, how about you eat now," she placed a bowl in front of you, "and maybe later you can talk to hyein about it. don't worry until then."

"easier said than done," you replied, digging into the rice with your spoon. but she was right. you could talk to hyein later; you still had to unpack your bags.

breakfast tasted dry and bland, even though you were sure your aunt cooked it with perfection and love in mind. there were just too many thoughts in your mind.

putting your finished bowl in the sink and washing it, you shuffled back into you and hyein's room, intending to tidy up the space and also set your things down. this was where you'd be living for the next four or more years, after all.

this bedroom brought back memories. what used to be a guest room that five-year-old you would sleep in during the holidays, was now turned into your dear little cousin's haven of comfort. from the moment she was born, you've adored her—it was like having a little sibling, since you were an only child. the guest room was more lively, more full of energy with hyein there.

as she grew up, there were times where she, of course, kicked you out of the room, because it was 'too embarrassing' to have her older cousin sleep in the same room with her. although you always woke up in the middle of that night to see a hyein-shaped lump on top of you. it was endearing, really, to see, to know that the girl loved you as much as you did her.

you traced your finger along the edges of the old closet in the corner of the room. there was a barely noticeable dent on the side, from when you were playing a game of operation and accidentally threw the tweezers too hard in a fit of rage.

a piece of duct tape you'd painted white that was stuck onto it for a good week, because that was the best that a 14-year-old and a 9-year-old could think of. your mom and auntie still got mad, though.

you got to cleaning and unpacking, patiently waiting for time to pass so hyein could come home and you could talk.

dinner came and went, and you were now sitting on the bed, waiting for your cousin who was washing up in the bathroom.

"hey unnie... why are you just sitting there?"

you wordlessly patted the space next to you, your silence being an indicator that what you wanted to talk about was serious.

"why didn't you tell me you were a trainee?"

"..."

"hyein?"

she stared at her lap, guilty. "i..." she choked out, "every time you came, i was just having so much fun. and i didn't know when to tell you because i thought you would make fun of me, or something. i don't know."

hyein sniffled, and looked at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. you sighed and wiped them away with your thumb. she continued.

"and this training, i know you think it's a lot for me and it is, but my members, they make it so much fun. and i'm so close to achieving my dreams, y/n-unnie! july 22nd. that's in 20 days, i'm gonna be a real idol. topping the charts, i just, urgh-"

you brought her into a hug, rubbing her back as she sobbed into your shoulder.

"...i support you. i'm not judging you, i was just worried about you," you planted a kiss on her forehead.

"you're my baby cousin, of course i wanna protect you from the nasty entertainment industry. but... if this is what you want to do, then i'll cheer you on from debut to retirement."

she sniffled. "that's in like, a gazillion years, you're gonna be dead by then."

"shush," you pulled her back into your embrace, "let's just go to sleep."

at 6 am, you woke up with hyein sleeping soundly on your chest, again. this time, you carefully slid out of bed, brushing your teeth in the bathroom, and then sauntering over to the kitchen where your aunt was already awake and cooking breakfast.

"up so early?"

you groaned. mornings were never for you, especially since you always stayed up to paint during your spurts of inspiration.

"i talked to hyein." a pause. your aunt took a minute to wash her hands, and turned around to face you.

"and?"

"i told her i support her. and we fell asleep talking about which member of bts was the best. and now my eyes are super swollen 'cause we had a crying session right before that."

in the background, you could faintly hear the sound of rushing water. hyein must be awake.

"morning..." the younger girl walked in, rubbing her eyes.

you smiled. "good morning, hyeinie."

"woah, you're awake... you're usually passed out at this time."

"are you disappointed?"

"settle down, kids. breakfast's ready."

you ate in silence, occasionally asking for a napkin, or asking how each other's sleep went, and hyein went in to go get dressed for the day.

the sound of the garage door opening resounded throughout the house; uncle must be back from running errands.

"that's me," your cousin said. you adjusted the cap on her head.

"you're sleeping on the bottom bunk tonight, just so you know. i don't want you falling off in the morning, while i'm 'passed out'."

she slipped on her shoes, grinning widely at you. then, she set off with a skip in her step. you shook your head at the sight, giggling.

a few hours later, around noon, your aunt came into your room holding a wrapped... lunch? it looked like the ones you would get from your own mother for field trips, a boxed lunch wrapped with a cloth with a cute design on it. you paused in the middle of your painting of the view from your window. it was time to take a break, anyway.

"what's this?" you took it from her. the cloth concealed the smell pretty well, so you couldn't tell what was in it.

your aunt crossed her arms. "hyein's lunch."

okay... that's weird. why would she come in and give you hyein's lunch? wasn't she supposed to- oh. "you want me to bring it to her, don't you."

she only nodded, leaving the room right after.

hybe entertainment was a big building. like, a seriously big building. it was also weirdly pleasing to look at, but you thought that way with how the city looked in general with all those big buildings with their fully windowed walls.

hyein's manager was supposed to come get you at the lobby. it felt awkward waiting there, since it was so prim and proper compared to any other place you'd been to. you felt out of place. you were just a trainee's cousin, not some important figure in the industry. hell, you weren't even in the industry!

from: mom's favorite child (🐣) why'd mom tell me to send my manager down? are you here? to: mom's favorite child (🐣) yeah from: mom's favorite child (🐣) why???

you chose not to answer that. 'did she really forget her lunch?'

after around five minutes (and after receiving some curious looks from staff members) the manager led you to a dance(?) practice room, nodding and opening the door for you.

"unnie!" you were immediately crushed by the tall girl. you think the cramp in your spine was fixed by her intense embrace.

she gave you an excited look. "why're you here?"

you held up the box, dangling it in front of her eyes. "you forgot your lunch."

she took it from you with a straight face, but then changed the topic without saying anything else. what the...

"meet my members!" hyein stepped aside, revealing four girls who looked almost as confused as you were.

but they were all very pretty, you noted. especially that girl on the right, with the bangs. and those pretty eyes. and ah...

'oh my fucking god.'

"y/n!?"

"h-hanni!?"

you stood there in shock. out of all the places you could meet again, it was at your cousin's workplace? and, it turned out that they even worked together?

you were pulled into the practice room, and now you were sitting on a metal folding chair, in an icebreaker circle that took you back to middle school. it all happened in a blur, one second you were staring at hanni and the other you were forced into a chair by hyein. everyone else looked slightly uncomfortable as well.

"this is y/n, my older cousin!" she introduced you to the other girls. then, she pointed to them one by one.

"this is haerin-unnie." the cat-eyed girl nodded at you.

"minji-unnie." she waved, offering you a tight lipped smile.

"dani... danielle-unnie." she also waved, though with much more energy and a wider smile. cute.

"and this is hanni-unnie, but i suppose you two are acquainted already."

you ignored how hyein's posture became stiffer and how she suddenly started talking in a formal tone, like what she did when she was starting to plot something.

nonetheless, you bowed in your seat and waved. "i'm lee y/n... incoming first year at seoul national university. i'm looking to major in painting."

there was a brief period of silence, and you awkwardly traced the bruise you got two days ago through the hole in your jeans.

danielle(?) started clapping, the other members (including hyein) following suit.

"can we see some of your works?" she excitedly asked. you, once again, found it hard to resist a pretty girl.

"yeah, for sure!" fishing your phone out of your pocket, you pulled up the album titled 'finished paintings' and chose a landscape painting of the blue mountains which you did on a short vacation to newcastle in march. you used the pictures your dad took on his professional camera as reference, and it ended up being one of your best projects in your portfolio.

you tilted your phone horizontally so they could see the full piece, chest swelling with pride when their faces lit up with wonder.

"it's beautiful," minji commented, her eyes trailing from your phone screen to you. you blushed at the sudden eye contact.

danielle loudly gasped, shaking hanni back and forth. "oh my gosh, it's the blue mountains!"

another aussie?

"yeah, went there during a trip to newcastle," you replied in english. the girl's eyes seemed to light up even more, if that was possible. her smile became so blinding that you felt you had to shield your eyes.

"newcastle!" she pointed to herself, "that's where i'm from!"

"really? it's so pretty there, especially by the beaches," you said. "i wish i could go back and paint the views."

your stomach growled. right... you hadn't eaten since way earlier in the morning. you scratched your neck in embarrassment when haerin and hyein started giggling.

"have you girls had lunch yet?"

at seeing their heads shake 'no', you stood up and stretched your arms back. "wanna go eat something? it's my treat," you suggested. "i think i saw a tonkatsu restaurant on the way here."

the cat eyed girl, haerin, made a sound akin to the squeak of a cat (ironically) and tugged on minji's sleeve. she whispered in the girl's ear, and minji turned to look at danielle and hanni for approval.

"fine with us," she affirmed, sending you a gummy smile. "i'll tell our manager."

hyein poked your shoulder. "what about my lunch?"

"uh... we can watch something tonight and you can eat it then, i guess. i won't tell your mom?"

"deal!"

[hybe -> new area unlocked: tonkatsu restaurant]

the seating arrangement went as follows: haerin, hyein, and danielle on one side of the booth, and minji, you, and hanni on the other side. you mentally braced yourself for kicks from hyein, but your heart also sped up at being next to hanni again.

the group made their orders, you prepared to empty your wallet, and were now engaging in conversation with danielle and hanni. next to you, hyein, minji, and haerin were having a separate conversation—something about sparklers and filming.

"so, danielle," you started, folding a napkin into an unlimited amount of halves. she interrupted you before you could continue, smiling, "you can just call me dani! i find being called my full name a bit... you know."

you nodded in understanding. "dani, so you're australian too? must be nice to have a fellow aussie in your group," you nudged the girl sitting on your right. she nudged you back, but her hand made its way to yours under the table. you tried your best not to freak out.

"yep! speaking of which," danielle pointed between you and the 'fellow aussie'. "how do you two know each other? there was that whole thing when we first saw you and everything."

by now, the other three girls have tuned into your conversation. it seemed that they too, were curious.

the vietnamese was the first to explain. "we met at the airport, after i visited my family. we bumped into each other like, three times before finding out we also sat next to each other on the same flight."

minji raised an eyebrow, "wait, this is the y/n you were talking about?"

hanni looked to the side and tucked her hand behind her ear. she was talking about you?

you gave her hand a squeeze, causing her to look down at your now-intertwined fingers. when did that happen?

across the table, hyein eyed you suspiciously.

thankfully, the food came and you enjoyed your lunch, which sufficiently tamed your prior hunger that led up to this situation. you recounted more of you and hanni's first meeting, but the more you talked the more it felt like you were introducing yourself as her girlfriend.

"wow, is that why you left me on read?"

you snorted. "no, i just wanted to annoy you."

hyein kicked you under the table. you made a mental note to check your foot for another bruise later.

"to be honest," you said to the group after you finished your last bite, directing everyone's attention to yourself. "i didn't think i'd end up spending the afternoon with soon-to-be idols."

next to you, minji laughed. it tickled your brain, the way her deep voice was so sooth and calming.

"i don't think anyone here expected to spend the afternoon dining with our youngest's relative."

you laughed along with her, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin. "but i mean, we'll probably be seeing each other often. i'd love to get to know all of you."

the girls made noises of agreement, either nodding or approving verbally, and soon everyone was done eating. you paid the bill (rest in peace, wallet) and when you came back from the counter, hanni, danielle, and haerin are gone.

"they went to use the restroom," minji informed. you made an 'ahh' expression and gave an 'ok' gesture, and made to sit down to wait for the three. hyein stared at you and minji.

"i think you're really cool, y/n."

you almost did a spit-take with your glass of water. that caught you way off guard. what are you supposed to that?

"...and i was just wondering, could i get your number?"

you blinked. minji blinked. and out of the corner of your eye, you could see that hyein also blinked.

but... who would turn down an offer from a(nother) pretty girl? not you.

so obviously you punched in your digits onto the girl's phone, saving yourself as 'y/n 🎨' and by the time you were done, the rest of the group had returned to the table.

when you and the girls arrived at the company, minji left with a wink toward your direction, danielle and hyein hugged you goodbye, and haerin waved at you. only hanni was left, but both of you were reluctant to go.

"i hung the sketches up in my dorm room."

your eyes slightly widened. "really? i'm glad you like them. it's embarrassing, but you're sort of turning into my muse."

you coughed as to hide your scorching blush. hanni giggled, her cheeks also tinted red.

danielle called for her from the entrance, and you both looked to the building.

"i should go."

"yeah... oh, here." you handed her a torn piece of napkin paper with your number written on it. "my number, 'cause my dumb ass forgot to give it to you earlier."

she pocketed it and sent you an eye smile, before waving and turning around to catch up with her group members.

score!

one week later and you and minji became quick friends. she was funny, very dry but very funny. and you were too shy to text hanni much despite your show of confidence when you gave her your number.

you also hung out with the oldest member a lot. just the other day, you went to the mall with her and got frozen yogurt, and since the day you met her you've been texting every night. though not as much as you did with minji, of course you hung out with the other girls too, like when you visited the company a second and third time. (coincidentally, it was because hyein had forgotten her lunch, again)

you actually just got back from visiting minji at the dorm. it was your first time there, and you mostly just stayed in her room after being given a tour. (you ignored the disappointment in your heart after finding out hanni had a schedule, and wasn't at home)

hyein already had some of her things moved to her dorm room, but she was allowed a few more days at home until she had to stay there long-term. but lately, you've been noticing her staring at you. it often happened when you were texting or hanging out with minji. you would just see the younger girl stand in the corner of the room, 'distracted' with her phone as soon as you turned to look at her.

you were resting on your bed when the door burst open. startled, you sat bolt upright and turned your attention to whoever rudely interrupted your peaceful hour of doom-scrolling.

"unnie, do you like minji-unnie?"

"what the fu-" you stopped yourself. auntie would scold you if you slipped up in front of her kid. "no! what!?"

"oh." she sat herself next to you on the bed. "but you talk to her all the time. it's like you don't even like hanni-unnie anymore!"

it took you a second to process the younger girl's words until you exploded into a blushing mess. "how- how did you know i like hanni?"

"it's way too obvious," she shrugged.

hyein left the room, leaving you confused, until she came back in with a rolling whiteboard. where did she even get that?

you watched as she wrote on the board with a pink marker. 'operation... confess... to...' wow. you didn't like where this was going. at all. why should you confess? shouldn't she be focused on debuting? you wouldn't want to be a distraction to her. and you're pretty sure she didn't like you like that.

hyein put a bullet point under the heading, the marker squeaking as the ink dried within a second.

you frowned. "i don't think i should confess, hyein. you can put the board away."

she looked disheartened for a moment, but shook it off and faced you. "i'm like, 95% sure she likes you back. she doesn't shut up about you when she's alone in her room. i don't think she knows that we can hear her talking to herself."

choosing to keep quiet, you laid back into bed and covered your face with a pillow. that was a matter to think about later, and it was hard to stop hyein once she'd started.

"let's see... hey, pay attention; this is for everyone's sake!" the pillow was snatched from your hands. you groaned and sat up. guess it wouldn't hurt to at least hear her out. "you should do something to catch her attention."

you scoffed. "like what?"

she finished drawing two stickfigures (you and hanni, presumably) holding hands with an obnoxious amount of hearts surrounding them, and rested her hand on her hip. "you could... mysteriously take her away after one of her schedules?"

"absolutely not! that's kidnapping."

she crossed the prompt off the list. "take her on a romantic tour around the city with a rented double decker bus?"

"i don't have money for that..."

"you don't have to pay for a driver, can't you drive?" hyein pouted.

you sighed. "what's the point of renting it for her then? also, hasn't she been here long enough to know the city? plus, i don't have a korean driver's license yet."

another prompt was crossed off the list, and you waited patiently as hyein thought of another idea.

"you know, the other day..." you blinked, and now she was in front of you. 'oh god.'

a wide grin spread on her face, and you paled. "i saw some window cleaners the other day. they looked like spiderman."

"hyein..."

"and like, that's so cool! you could do that. we could get a harness from that store down the street..."

"hyein, please."

"and a rope from there, too."

"but-"

"don't you want to catch her eye?"

it was tempting. it'd been so long (christmas) since you've done something fun (insane) and hyein knew just how to push your buttons.

...damn this kid.

from: hany/n supporters mom's favorite child (🐣) added you, haerin, and mj to the group. mom's favorite child (🐣) heyy 😍 you what is this 🙁 mj ^ haerin ^ mom's favorite child (🐣) planning for hany/n to succeed also dani unnie isnt here bc she cant keep a secret mj oh finally mom's favorite child (🐣) updates will be here 😈

over the next few days, you'd been spending more time at the newjeans dorm, discussing the "plan" in depth with minji, haerin, and hyein. whenever danielle and, you smiled, hanni, dropped by, you always just changed the topic and let them join the circle, leaving the discussion to be finished in the groupchat or the next day.

but hanni's schedules had slowed down, and she was at home more often. on the other hand, it was haerin and hyein's turn to be busy, leading to you and minji hanging out on your own.

it was clear that you and the taller girl had grown way closer since your first encounter, to the point that you could joke around with her with no repercussions or shame. this year's sketchbook was a gift from minji, and the first few pages were drawings of her as a show of courtesy from you.

minji was slowly becoming your best friend since moving to korea long-term. back in australia, you didn't have a best friend, just some people that would tolerate and get along with you. but you could really connect with the stupidly tall girl that reminded you of a bear.

naturally, neither you nor minji didn't think that hanni would pay any mind to your blooming friendship.

according to minji three days later, you were wrong.

"this is giving me deja vu," you grinned at hyein, who was currently fastening the straps of your climbing harness bought from the sports shop close to hyein's home.

she rolled her eyes, tapping your helmet. this time, there would (hopefully) be no injuries. or splinters... you hated splinters.

"i'm gonna go back to them, i'll let you know where we are so you can drop down with your," she gestured to the piece of cardstock which you decorated last night, "poster."

the ropes were checked for secureness for a seventh time, and you were assisted with being lowered down the side of the building before hyein descended the stairs and to the elevator which would take her to the second floor.

[||] hanni

"what's up with you and y/n?" hanni questioned minji. it's not like she was jealous, or anything. not of how minji got close to you faster than she did, and hanni was the one to spend a whole day with you, alone, with no interruptions before they even found out you were connected. not of how she could hear the two of you laughing away at night, sometimes even including hyein and haerin in your little hanging out sessions. not of how you flashed minji, not her, minji, your signature smile which made her heart go ten times faster, because she had gifted you with a new sketchbook to replace last year's.

okay, maybe she was jealous. just a little bit.

but it didn't help how you called her 'mj' so naturally, like you'd known her for years before. or how you always snuck off or changed the topic whenever hanni appeared, acting like you were talking about something else even though she knew you weren't.

"huh?" the taller girl stopped in front of the window at the end of one of the second floor corridors. hanni tutted, "it's like you're... you're dating! or something."

minji froze, mouth agape. that wasn't a good sign. but then she started laughing like a crazy woman, making hanni even more frustrated.

"we're not dating. i don't like anyone," she paused, a shit-eating grin slowly overtaking her face. hanni scowled. "what, were you jealous i'd steal away your c-r-u-s-h?"

she dodged hanni's punch to the shoulder, still laughing at the absurdity that was her friend's thoughts.

"but you guys are so close. and hang out all the time," hanni emphasized, making wild gestures in the air with her hands.

that would be a fair point. but to minji, letting her win would be the end of the world.

"that's because-"

"hey guys!" the sounds of three sets of footsteps became louder upon approaching the pair.

"hey, hyein. hey, haerin, danielle." minji greeted, turning to the window as if she were looking for something. haerin and hyein joined her from behind. 'what the fuck?'

"what are you guys doing?" danielle asked, trying to tiptoe to see over their shoulders. unfortunately, she couldn't get past the obstacles that were freakishly tall giants named lee hyein and kim minji.

sighing, she stepped back to face the vietnamese girl, with a pout. "oh yeah, what were you talking about? we watched you try to punch minji earlier."

"it wouldn't hurt to ask for a third opinion," she mused. "do you think there's something between y/n and minji?"

danielle's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "y/n and minji?"

"i mean... they do spend a lot of time together. but i don't think... she—minji i mean—likes y/n like that. actually, it also seems like y/n's got a different vibe to her when she's with minji, but it's not a romantic feeling-y one, you know?"

drats.

"there she is!" hyein shouted, pointing at something that hanni couldn't see from where she was.

haerin quietly dragged her by the hand to join them in looking at the thing hyein was pointing at and- was that you!?

hanging from a rope that did not look like it supported your weight, there you were, in all your glory, outside of the window holding a sign that hanni had to squint to read.

"what the heck," she pressed her hands into the glass. "why is she outside of the window? also, is that rope even secure? and," she was nudged by minji.

"read the sign, bro."

she grumbled but squinted more to make out the words on the paper. there were flowers painted onto it, with two stickfigures holding hands, and the letters written in bold...

"han, let me take U on a d8 <3" with two comically large exclamation marks following after. han? as in, her? hanni? hanni pham who you met two weeks ago? on a date? a date!

hanni was about to shout her answer until she realized you literally couldn't hear her, because there was a window separating you two, and the rope snapped.

the rope snapped! you just fell down the side of the building! what the hell!

next thing she knew she was running out the lobby and on her way to the hospital while the ambulance carried hyein and your unconscious body.

white walls. blinding lights. faint smell of disinfectant. it had been a while since the last time you landed in the hospital.

except you don't recall the absence of a cartoonish hygiene poster that was always visible immediately when you woke up. or the presence of another girl resting her head on the side of your bed topped with plain white sheets.

on the other side of the door, you could just barely hear two people conversing in korean.

that's right, you were in korea, not melbourne. and you'd fallen from the building after the rope holding you up had snapped.

you knew you were the definition of "fucked around and found out" but... holy shit, your body hurts like hell. looking down, you could see that your right leg was in a cast, and you were unable to move your upper body, feeling immense pain whenever you tried. to add on, there were many, many, bruises along your arms and from what you could see, your other, non-broken leg.

normally, your mother would barge in at this time, scolding you for doing something stupid again. but it wasn't "normally" today. a warm, wet sensation, a tear, rolled down your cheek. maybe it was the pain that finally triggered it, but it was the first time you cried since leaving your home for college.

"fuck," you murmured, lifting up your arm that wasn't occupied to wipe away the waterfall of tears that threatened to burst. in doing so, the girl holding onto your hand shifted. she scrunched her nose, wiping the sleep away from her eyes, and you could finally see her face. hanni. why was she here?

she stopped and stared at you for a moment before her eyes widened. "you're awake! you're- hold on, i'm- here's some water."

hanni helped you sit up, your upper body burning in pain, and you gulped the liquid down in seconds, gratefully handing the glass back to her.

"are you feeling okay?"

that was a good question. "i feel like shit."

she burst out in laughter, and you tried to as well, but ended up groaning in pain. damned body. you felt soothing rubs on your back from hanni, and you shot her an endearing smile. her actions made you feel all warm inside. like a cozy campfire on a cold, dark night.

"be careful," hanni chided, "you broke two of your ribs. and if you didn't know already, your leg too." that explained the extreme pain when you laughed.

you fell into a silence, getting lost in the girl's eyes before she coughed, blushing. "careful, can't have you falling before the first date."

breaking out into a dopey grin, you squeezed her hand. "i'm afraid i've already fallen."

"well then you better hurry up and get better so you can take me out on that date you promised, before you ended up here."

date? promised? the... the... what was it... you searched the depths of your sluggish mind, which was really hard considering you woke up five minutes ago.

sign. the... sign? oh, she saw it! the sign that you and hyein had stayed up making yesterday, to ask hanni out. it was a last minute thing, since you kept putting it off and forgot about it before last night.

a pair of lips pressed onto your cheek, but left as fast as they came. you snapped your head to hanni, touching the affected area with your palm.

without thinking, you surged forward and crashed your lips together, melting into a (not so) perfect kiss, but it sure felt perfect to you. hanni kissed back with even more fervor, hands tangled in your hair and leg moving in a slight crawl in an attempt to get closer to you without hurting you.

you pulled away, stupid smiles on both of your faces.

"you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that," you said, sneaking in another peck on her lips.

"you have no idea how long i've been wanting to kiss you." she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

an idea popped up in your head after spotting your sketchbook on the table next to your hospital bed. you'd been wanting to paint her properly since the first time you drew her on the plane. "han, let me paint you. please? after i get discharged, whenever that is."

she blushed, blinking at you without saying a word. then, she pulled you into a short, but sweet kiss, and pulled away to plant a small kiss on top of your intertwined hands. you recalled minji saying something about hanni's strong distaste for kisses, but her behavior at the moment was contradicting minji's words.

"you'll have much more time to paint me, wherever, whenever you want."

you giggled, giving a squeeze to her hand. "does this mean i get sneak peeks of songs?"

"no."

"aw..."

"...maybe a little. just a little bit, because i like you so much."

you pumped your fist, whispering a "yes!" before she captured your lips in another passionate kiss.

"i like you a lot, too. more than painting. wait..."

"y/n!"

you, lee y/n, were a girl who could not get a girlfriend no matter what you tried. but on that fateful day, the day you met hanni, you only had the stars and fate to thank for letting you meet the love of your life.

10 hours, in the sky, let hanni pham wiggle her way into your life. and you had to say, it was a change for the better.

a/n : i'm finally done... THIS was hell to write let me tell you omg it's been in my drafts since early january GOODBYEE but now i can focus on all my other stuff so....... chaewon next! LOL (and also lovergirl pt. 2 i didn't forget i swear) thank you so much for reading 10 hour flight, sorry it's so long it wasn't supposed to be 😭 ily guys

[huellitaa]

₊˚⊹♡ education is hot!

education is literally the most valuable thing in life. please please PLEASE take advantage of that. self concept is important, good looks are important, happiness is important, health is important, but without education we wouldn't even know what any of that even means. ♡

having knowledge makes you magnetic. when you're smart, people will look up to you. and if people look up to you, it means they think about you, they admire you, and you have an influence on them.

life is knowledge. the more you learn, the more you are. knowledge is the fundamental basics to life. nothing is the root of everything but we wouldn't even know what nothing is without education. we wouldn't have language, we wouldn't have concepts, we wouldn't have technology, we wouldn't have the screen you're reading this on. we wouldn't have tumblr 😨

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 1. noting down ur findings

the smartest people ALWAYS note down what they learn, whether it be big or small. if you have lots of knowledge and / or the memory capacity of a goldfish then naturally you may not always remember what you learn. keeping it noted down in any preferably easily accessible format of your choice is so helpful and a very smart choice if you want to be an Intellectual™. notebook, sketchbook, binder, google docs, notion pages, tumblr posts, notes app, anything you like !!!!! just keep it noted down !!!! ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀2. utilising ur resources!!!!

so many people i know and millions of people throughout the world suffer with a crippling addiction to their phones, but what are you actually doing on said phone? you spend ages on your phone, your tablet, your laptop, reading, writing, playing video games, and so on, but even then, are you genuinely learning? are you taking the time to absorb the knowledge placed before you or are you skimming through it all in a mindless cycle of media consumption?

think about how you can utilise the things around you to learn. for example, make all that time spent on your devices useful. research, study, learn in your free time. knowledge is abundance. you can use your local library, your local bookshops, ur school or ur college or ur workplace just to find out more about your surroundings and about the world. it is so much more valuable thank you'd think.

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 3. wisdom

wisdom is the highest form of knowledge. to learn is to live so living is the only way you're going to truly learn, if that makes sense. therefore, by using this direct method, you gain the highest manner of knowledge; wisdom. wisdom is not being book smart or knowing how to solve equations or write essays but wisdom is genuine, pure, raw, life experience and life lessons, which, surprise surprise, can only be gained through experience and living your life. go out, try things, get out of your comfort zone, get comfy being uncomfy. you got this. ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 4. social interaction

"nerds dont know how to socialise!!!" okay so maybe i adhere to this stereotype sometimes but social interaction is, however unfortunate it may be, a key part of being intellectual and having genuine knowledge. going back to wisdom and learning through experience, speaking with and networking with and sparking connections with others is a vital way to be educated and informed and cultured along with enhancing your social skills, because we need to know how to interact with others, too. if we can't spread said knowledge through connections and socialising so it can be passed down for hundreds of thousands for years to come then there is no point in learning at all because it'll have no use in the long run.

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 5. media consumption

feed ur brain. i cannot stress this enough. read books, fiction or non fiction. i know you've heard this a million times but it's true. read just a random article of interest every day to get your brain working. learn a new word every day, read news reports, letters, interesting blogs, articles, websites, do puzzles, crosswords, wordsearches, memory games, listen to podcasts, audiobooks, watch documentaries, youtube videos, interviews, ted talks, video essays, EXERCISE UR BRAIN

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 6. insights, emotional intelligence and empathy

as i've said before, and i'll reiterate again, knowledge extends beyond simply having book smarts and knowing how to work with letters and numbers. the most powerful method of communication amongst humans is emotion, and being well versed in how to read, understand and communicate said language is only learnt through real life experience and observation of real life experiences where the use of emotional intelligence and empathy come into play. analyse these experiences and note down everything

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 7. question ur sources and BE BOLD

one thing i was taught ever since i was little is that when ur online you need to be veeeery careful with all the information you get fed because there are lots of people out there, esp on the internet, with lots of different intentions and lots of different facts, even if they have good intentions and don't mean to mislead you. always double check whatever ur told with someone you know or on another website or two or a physical yet reliable source if you have one to hand, and cite your own opinions too. you get to choose what does and doesn't get to enter your mind. your mind and your knowledge is yours entirely and only yours to be tampered with and adjusted in any way you'd like.

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 things 2 study and be generally educated on:

social etiquette and politeness

countries and their respective laws, cultures, landmarks etc.

history of your own family and ancestry

languages you're interested in and basic phrases in several languages

information about your dream and / or current career

finances and how to manage your money

business, networking and persuasion

pet psychology and how to take care of them

capital cities and basics about places around the world, esp if you plan on going travelling

something beautiful about knowledge is that you'll never run out of it and it can never be taken away from you. people can take anything from you, but never your intelligence. ♡

all my love! 💖✨💘💗🎀💓

[softidiotsposts]

Whatever You Want, Whatever You Need

distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? well, what about hate?

{Thank you to the lovely request here for the idea, I hope I did it justice! I actually really enjoyed writing this one so I hope you all enjoy reading it too.}

Warnings: A SITUATIONSHIP!!! suggestive/light smut (build up), angst, fluff, classic enemies to lovers with a side of hating each other, masc!R (dw still wlw), soccer used // word count: 8.1k

masterlist

The universe of professional sport is riddled in great rivalries that are remembered for decades.

Ferrari and Mercedes in F1, the US and Australia in the swimming world, the Williams sisters in Tennis and of course, the El Clásico- Real Madrid V Barcelona, the capital city's best team V Catalonia's pride and joy. Two Spanish football's giants going head to head.

Yet rivalries in sport aren't built on hate, they are created through the urge to beat someone who you think is equal or better. Someone who you know dedicates themselves as much as you.

You have no respect for Barcelona's captain and apparent La Reina of modern football, Alexia Putellas. So maybe you prove rivalry can be born of hate?

Alexia has ground your gears since the moment you had heard of her through Tobin and Christen years ago-

"She's fantastic, making waves in Spain y'know?" Tobin's casual comment sparked a fire under you because who was Alexia and why the fuck was she so special all of sudden?

The media, who had been focused on you for the better part of 5 years, suddenly switched gears. You were old news, apparently. Just some wishy-washy American that's still playing in a closed league with only a handful of good performances, they didn't care if you broke record after record (mostly your own) because all you could do is win the same league title year after year.

The only attention that you actually got was when you'd don a US jersey, of course a great honor that you would never take for granted but... it hurt a little. Hurt that people could care less about you unless it was an international break.

But even that came to a close with the Spanish controversy and ultimate World Cup win. A title that you wanted to win again but couldn't even scratch, not after a penalty shootout against Sweden that left you with a shattered heart and a weak feeling in the knees.

You were washed and used, not special and talented anymore.

Alexia was the new, shiny player with trophies to prove it, where were yours? You could only get second place after second place. And Barcelona was now the best club in Europe after winning back to back Champions Leagues.

You hated it, the US was the place for women's soccer for so long- it was the place where the best of the best played and it was the gateway to professionalism but now, the European way dominates.

It was no longer- Go to the US for college so that you can get scouted. Instead it's to go to a European academy, they'll make a player of you.

That's why you decide that if Alexia wanted to ruin all the effort you'd put in to make your career special, then you'd beat her- time and time again if you must. To prove what? You're not really sure, maybe to say that you haven't lost it.

"Hey, Barry?" You call your agent out of the blue on a Wednesday afternoon practically mid-season, knowing that your contract still has another 2 years on it but you could care less.

"Y/N? What's up?" Barry is a nice guy, a family friend you've known practically your whole life. He's guided you through your career so far- landing you brand deals with brands and promotional opportunities.

He continues, "Listen, if it's about the lack of brand-"

"No, it's not about the deals."

Your brand deals have been slowly dwindling as your career has been but to be honest, you could care less about whether or not a cereal brand that you never ate sponsored you.

"Okay... So... What is it?" Barry's voice is a murmur through the phone and you've learned throughout the years that it only happens when he thinks you have bad news.

"I want to move club," Your tone is serious and not as playful as it normally is when you call him. You hear Barry sigh before he responds.

"There's 2 years on your current contract and you know that Gotham doesn't want to sell you."

Barry is right. Gotham has been doing practically everything in their power to keep you at the club, even raising your salary significantly each contract and you know it's only because you're their top goal scorer.

"I know but you'll get them to mutually terminate, right?" You ask, even though it's not a question and more like a request.

"I don't know, Y/N. They are paying a lot for you to stay and you've won the league comfortably for a few years haven't you?"

You have but that's not the point. You want to beat Alexia and for that you need to play against her, not just at an international level.

"Plus, where do you even want to play? Gotham is winning the league, y'know? There is not a better te-"

You cut him off, "Spain, get me to Spain. Please Barry?"

You know that works on him, it always has and probably always will. Barry knows it's rare for you to actually plead for something- Let alone something related to soccer.

"Spain?" Barry's tone indicates shock and you're not surprised- You have never wanted to play abroad before, you like the comforts of home far too much for that.

"Yes, get me a contract with Real Madrid."

Your words are as final as they can be, there is absolutely nothing else you want.

Barry worked his magic and suddenly you were 'mutually' parting ways with Gotham after 5 long years with them. It was a shock and the media blew up over night, rumors that you were retiring floated about along with different clubs that you might be signing for.

Lyon. Chelsea. Arsenal. Bayern. Wolfsburg and of course Barcelona- People whispering about the potential threat you'd pose with Bonmati and Putellas behind you. Little did they know, you hated the blue and red of the club and hated their Queen.

Your medical with Madrid became public knowledge a few days after it occurred leaving the rumors of Barcelona in the dust. You were confirmed a madridista then and there before you could even sign the contract.

"You did WHAT?" Tobin's voice rang through the phone, very loud and very clear.

You grit your teeth, you should have probably mentioned this earlier- Much sooner, maybe before your move was public knowledge?

"Listen... Tobin..." You start sheepishly, knowing what was coming.

"You ended your contract? AND moved all the way to SPAIN? Spain which is-"

You sigh, "You know why."

Tobin knew, Christen knew and probably the whole national team knew of your strong opinions on a certain Spaniard.

Actually, Christen and Tobin were the first people you'd go to for anything. Advice, soccer or not soccer related, to rant, to just talk to. They are kind of like you bonus parents, a pair that you know you can rely on so they knew the ins and outs of your problems with La Reina.

"Still, you should have given us a warning," It's Christen, clearly calmer than Tobin is- Voice soft and comforting, as it always has been or at least compared to Tobin's.

You'd always liked Christen and maybe that's why you were over the moon when Tobin told you she liked her. Probably also the reason why you added a little pressure of your own when Tobin hesitated asking her out.

"Okay, no need to gang up on me now, guys," You chuckle, trying to somewhat diffuse the situation and you hear a stifled laugh in the background. Clearly Tobin is trying to not seem amused.

"I'm serious," Christen clearly is and a voice agrees from behind her- Tobin- Sounding a little less serious and more amused now.

"Okay, I'm sorry... but I have to go now."

You balance the phone on top of a cardboard box that you've already taped shut. The process of your move is in full swing now.

"I gotta go now, love you."

You hear a shouted "Love you too" from Tobin and a normal one from Christen before the phone is disconnected and you're left alone again.

Different piles of clothes wait to be sorted, although they are mostly all the same- Training gear that you won't need anymore, you figure that if you leave it, Barry will return it to the club. Other stray things also wait, books and various knick knacks that will have a new home in Madrid.

You run a hand through your short hair and sigh. You should probably continue to pack?

Madrid is different to Harrison- The city is overflowing with its culture, eras practically stand next to one another. Buildings combining decades at a time with some looking as though they were sculpted by hand while others looked as though they were built in a factory.

Madrid is grand in the best ways and you decide that this is exactly where you want to be.

The apartment that you managed to secure on the fly is modest by comparison with some. It's a two bedroom with one of them being an office and the kitchen is modern with a touch of homeliness that reminds you of home. The view overlooks some of the city and you fall in love with the fading sky. Pink mixes with orange and red to create a lovely mess, one that you absolutely adore.

El Clásico is almost synonymous with the greats. CR7. R9. Messi. Xavi. Iniesta. You could go on for what seems like ever but the point is that El Clásico is an event, the streets close and people hold their breath until their team scores. The fans don their best and shout the loudest they can, it's an atmosphere anyone would die for. You included.

Your first Clásico is two months after your signing. It's a regular league match except it's not. This is your first chance to prove yourself, in front of the supports and in front of La Reina.

Alexia is not untouchable, no one is and you were going to prove that today. For you, Barcelona's dominance ended today because Real was ready to play for keeps.

You've seen her before, in person and of course on TV but you've never spoken. You matter how many times you finished second behind her in the Ballon D'or (twice) and the few times you've both been selected for best eleven, you haven't dared to speak with her.

Maybe the hate is unwarranted? Alexia hasn't harmed you physically or even said anything about you but it's just her. What is so damn special about her? The media like to pit the two of you against each other in their articles: La Reina and the unlucky, Alexia wins second Ballon D'or, beating rival L/N.

You're so sick of it. That's why you go all out, no mercy, no matter how many points behind you're in the table, even if the game is pointless because it won't change anything.

You press high, practically step on Maria León's toes and each time you get the ball you rush ahead trying your best to break down Barcelona's steel wall defense. It's not easy. You sweat buckets full and practically gasp for air but the first half ends without a goal- for either side.

To Madrid, that's a success. They've managed to keep Barcelona at bay for 45 minutes and possession doesn't look to be Barca dominant either. To you, it's utter failure. Alexia guides Barcelona like a battle fleet, perfect and precise. You, however, are holding on to the edge of a cliff with teammates who you don't know well enough- All chances seem to dissipate the second you pass because Barcelona uses your miscommunications to their advantage.

You listen to the coach but nothing really goes on, you're thinking of Alexia... Weirdly, about how Barcelona seems to fit her as if she was made for the club. Tailor made. It's not something you normally think of and it makes you shiver even though you're boiling hot with various emotions whirling around inside of you.

The second half begins with a goal. A goal for you, the crowd cheers and you revel in it, dropping to your knees with your hands in fists before your teammates slide into you. You celebrate that goal as if it were a Champions League final- It makes you feel as though you're on top of the world, you want to scream from the tallest mountain that you've taken the first steps.

An equalizer comes twenty minutes later in added time, it's the third minute and you're counting down the seconds until full-time. You pray that you don't lose possession but the opposite happens, Alexia lands a perfect tackle in midfield (something you'd see on the highlight reels) and shoots right then and there. She's so close to the half way line that you feel as though she won't make it, you're practically sure of it but instead Misa scrambles back (or tries to) and the ball bounces in the back of the net.

You feel a pain in your chest, it's heartbreak in the face of defeat.

The match ends in a draw, a win in the eyes of the Madrid veterans but an ugly loss in yours. The focus slipped for a millisecond and Alexia took that opportunity without a second though, one gap and the rat had slipped in.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you shake hands with players wearing the blaugrana colors. It's sportsmanship at it's finest and in that moment you decide that losing to Barcelona is the worst, they act humble in their glory and it makes your blood boil.

You get to Alexia at the end. La Reina extends her arm out to shake your hand and you gives a firm handshake, she's shorter than you by quite a bit and you've never noticed up to that point. The handshake is firm and warmer than you'd like it to be.

"You play well," It's a compliment from Alexia, said in a Spanish accent that tickles your ears oddly.

You hum then mumble a barely audible, "You too."

You don't know whether you mean it. Sure, you recognize that Alexia is top of the top but saying it to her face makes your skin claw with something unnamable. 

The next time you run into the proclaimed Queen of football is at an event. A gala of sorts, you could say, for a bunch of different athletes from all other the world of sport. You recognize some of them, mostly the ones from team USA and of course, Alexia Putellas.

She's wearing a gorgeous gown, black with a rather large slit in the back of it. It shows off the various tattoos that she has but also the slight muscle definition on her back, a clear sign of the Barcelona training plan working. The dress is matched with heels with that classic red bottom that make her clearly taller, almost so that she matches your height but your own shoes (albeit not heels) make you ever so slightly taller as well.

You swallow thickly for some reason. You chalk it up to the fact that you're wearing a three piece suit in all black in the middle of Spain, even if it is in the evening and the fact that the glass of whisky that you're holding is your third of the night.

Unfortunately... Or maybe fortunately, Alexia spots you amongst the crowd. You're difficult to miss, with an excellently tailored suit that highlights your lean muscle in the correct way and height that makes you look less like a footballer and more like a basketball player.

She immediately walks over to you and you regret agreeing to go to this thing in the first place. Alexia looks dangerously sexy tonight and you feel the anger fading very quickly- You've always thought that she was hot in a sense, you've seen her in enough dresses in similar events to know this but were sane enough not to act on desperate thoughts. Not with Alexia of all people.

Tonight, though, you feel insane, like a hound let loose.

You lick your lips as she walks to you and bite the inside of your cheeks when she finally reaches you. You don't know what you want, whether you want to dance far too close with her or run away completely.

"Y/N, right? From Real Madrid." It's a question that doesn't seem to need an answer because you know that Alexia remembers you as vividly as you remember her. You can still feel the weight of her small palm in yours after the match from a week ago, it hasn't left and you're afraid that it won't.

"Yeah, Alexia Putellas, right?" You smirk because you clearly know that it's Alexia you're talking to- The same Alexia that made you move to Madrid and the same one that you want to crush.

But tonight is different, hate is half gone and turned into something that sits in the bottom of your stomach, something that makes you nauseous with lust.

She nudges your shoulder with her free hand and you catch it with your own slightly larger free hand. It makes you both pause and stare at each other, it's all hot and your eyes are glazed over with an unspoken desire.

Hate is a strong emotion, one that you've always allocated to Alexia because she has played on your nerves as if they were strings. Dancing along with trophies and words of excellence while you watched from the crowd. It was the Alexia show and you're keen to change that- A change that is being rapidly evoked, the draw last week proving that a new era is on the horizon.

"Maybe..."

Her answer is as sly as her eyes and want pools in your gut. 

"Well... I'm only interested in dancing with La Reina."

Alexia raises her eyebrows before putting her drink down on a table full of half empty glass, clearly a dumping ground for unwanted glasses of alcohol. Then she does something you don't expect, she takes your whisky and places it on the same table and then tugs you on to a dance floor full of random people. Athletes and media, just dancing to electronic music.

You grin, alcohol coursing through your veins when Alexia takes your hands to place them on her hips. Your long fingers fan out over the satin of her dress and you press yourself impossibly close to her, hearing a surprised gasp when you do so.

"So... it's La Reina?" You laugh slowly into Alexia's ear and you feel her hands trail up from the small of your back to your shoulders.

You feel her chuckle and then sway her hips in your hands. The two of you are ridiculously close, so close that you can feel her underwear through the satin. It doesn't look innocent, it doesn't look like two players who oppose each other in almost everything they do.

Alexia leans into you and her breath touches the shell of your ear, it makes a jolt bolt down your spine.

"My hotel isn't far away."

It's a statement turned into a question, will you or won't you follow through? Alexia is challenging you into it. You swallow heavily, your mind is fuzzy and you know you shouldn't but you nod anyway.

Everything else is a blur until you get to the suite. It's nice and classy, something you expect from Alexia and the moment the door clicks shut, she presses you against it. Even though you're taller, Alexia has a certain passion that dominates but you never back down easily.

So you grab her wrists and press her against the wall to your right, it's aggressive and you intend it that way. You want her to know.

She gasps but smirks then thrashes her wrists against your grip testing your strength and when they don't budge from their place against the wall, Alexia groans. It's slow and utterly sexual and makes you want to grind against her.

"You're such a fucking tease," You groan out and then guide your tongue across her neck, lapping like a wild cat and Alexia lets out airy moans with each lick.

You love the way she grinds into your front and you live for this- Power, control and most of all, that it's Alexia here and not someone else.

"You're the tease, not me," She rebuttals and the sentence is punctuated with a loud moan as you bite down on her neck.

"Don't- don't... leave.. anything," Alexia gasps out and you're not stupid enough not to listen to her.

Instead of continuing your assault on Alexia's neck, you allow one of your hands to slip under her dress and onto the inside of her thigh. It's unbelievably hot and Alexia leans into your touch when you give it. Your fingers trace the ins of her thighs and she holds onto your shoulders with an iron grip.

"Joder...Fuck... Please?" Alexia practically begs and you take it as a personal victory.

"Please? Please what? Please stop?" You tease and try to retreat your hand.

Alexia yelps, "No!"

"No... Fuck me, please?"

You moan and peer down at her. God, what a beautiful mess she looks with a flushed face and dress half way up her stomach.

"Well... If the Queen says so."

The next morning a sense of dread filled you. Fucking Alexia was a mistake, a major mistake, a mistake that felt really good but a mistake nonetheless.

You turn to see the other side of the bed empty and you scoff because of course Alexia is a coward. Yet on the clearly slept on pillow lays a sheet of paper with the hotel branding on it, the script is rushed and you can barely make out the words because the spelling is off. The number though, is clear, in bold and underlined.

Alexia wants you to text her... Or at least, text that number.

You sigh deeply, then collapse back into your back. There is no way out when she keeps tempting you deeper into the lion’s den, is there?

The one time stand turns into another one and then another and another before you've lost count of how many times you've slept with Alexia. After each match against each other, you somehow end up in bed at a random hotel room- Sweaty and gasping for air.

You don't know what you're doing but you know it's not wise in any sense of the word. Not wise to be sleeping with the enemy and not wise to be sleeping with someone that you're striving to beat.

It's after another match that you end up in this situation, this time it's an international friendly and not a league match but nevertheless, Alexia and you fall into bed without issue. You fuck and then typically go to sleep but this time you can't, you can't sleep while Alexia's breathing is even on the other side.

So you do what you know you shouldn't, you turn to look at her. The glow of the moon highlights her face, leaving a ghost touch on her face. Her features are relaxed and it makes her look impossibly young.

You reach out with a boney finger and trace down the bridge of her nose and your breathing, as well as your movements, are stilted when Alexia stirs. You don't know why but it feels like you're committing a crime, as if you'd be caught red handed if Alexia wakes up.

But you continue anyway, your pointer finger traces the high of her cheeks and how relaxed her brows are. You commit it to memory, the feeling of soft skin under your callused finger tip.

You decide that at that moment, if you were a painter, you'd paint her. The soft curve of her nose and those sharp cheekbones and of course, those honey-brown eyes that you look with with as much seriousness as they do playfulness in moments.

It's hard to resist Alexia and you never do- Not when you ask with the lightest of voices and definitely not when she demands, voice full of what you think is captaincy.

Then days blend into weeks and weeks blend into a month. A long month without Alexia, you haven't played against the Barcelona captain for a month and you haven't texted either.

You glance at your phone that lays on the coffee table from the comfort of the sofa. It feels... Personal, if you text anything other than the location of a hotel room or an address or a come over.

Too personal.

This month has been a harsh reminder that you're nothing more than two opposing players that occasionally take their anger and frustrations out on each other. You're nothing to Alexia and she needs to be the same to you.

The next time you see Alexia is at an awards event and a sense of nervousness fills you. It's oddly similar to how this entire thing started, you in a suit- this time white instead of black- and her in a dress.

This time it is red, daring. It makes it hard to resist the urge to touch her, let alone talk to her so you make sure you're separated by a crowd at all times. You've gotten to close before and have been burned, you're not doing it this time.

You're nursing a drink in a corner, you truly don't even want to be here if you're honest. It all feels too weird... Seeing Alexia again after a month of radio silence. It's also reminded you that she is nothing but someone you have to beat.

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you flitch before whipping around to see Alexia, a sly smile on her face that makes your heart ache and insides turn. Of course, she looks impossibly beautiful tonight and your brain is whirling with excuses to leave before you fall in this trap again.

"Long time no see," Alexia leans forwards to murmur into your ear and you feel your resolve melting the second her breath reaches your ear.

Her body is half pressed against yours and you know the feeling so well that it's become second nature to press back against her. You resist as best as you can, turning your head away from her and drinking bitter alcohol instead.

You feel just as bitter as the alcohol tastes.

Alexia, of course, notices. You've learned that she's rather perceptive when she wants to be and it makes this ten times harder.

"What's wrong, rival?" It's playful and all without bite but you bite the inside of your cheek to resist snapping back.

"Nothing, sorry, gotta go, later," You brush her hand off your shoulder and storm out.

Out of the room and out the event altogether, thankful it was ending soon so your presence wouldn't be missed. You hail a taxi and gnaw at your nails in the back of the car as you get driven to the hotel, anxiety passes over you in fast waves. There is no time to breathe in between, let alone reflect.

Once you make it to the hotel, you've bitten through a cuticle and blood is running down your palm onto your wrist where it meets the cuff of your suit. The blood dyes it red and it looks like Alexia's dress, making your memory float back to her- It hurts to deny her of anything but it hurts just as much to lay awake while she sleeps peacefully after your escapades.

You're lost and there is only one person- well, two- that can help you find your footing.

"Hello?" A groggy voice comes through the muffled speaker of your phone.

"Help me, Tobin?" You're not sobbing, hell, you're not even crying but it comes out in a gut wrenching whisper. Your voice hoarse with unshed tears.

You hear a series of mumbles, clearly Christen, then bed sheets rustle before Tobin is back on the line.

"Are you hurt? Where are you?" A series of rapid questions are fired at you with a worried voice.

"No-no, I'm fine, physically at least, and I'm in Bilbao." 

"What- Why?" Tobin's voice is still panicked, clear worry running through it.

"Awards," You say, all too sullen for it to sound good.

Tobin finally calms down and you can hear it when she asks, "What's wrong, baby?"

You resist the urge to cry or maybe laugh at the question. Alexia floods back into your mind like a tsunami, bulldozing everything else.

"I've... Messed up, badly, Tobin."

"What do you mean?" Tobin's voice is small compared to your heavy breathing and you have to strain your ears to hear her through the phone.

The hotel room is dark, not a single light is on and the blinds are drawn to create a pitch black room. It feels cold and it makes the loneliness more apparent, even though Tobin is on the phone, you feel so so alone- Spain is so far away from the comforts of home and you feel the effect of the rash decision now.

"I've... Slept with someone-"

"You're breaking down over this?" There is a laugh at the end of the question and you crack a little smile before fading back to a deep frown.

"Someone I shouldn't have."

"Oh."

It's small, so you know it's Christen and not Tobin. Then a sudden feeling of embarrassment fills your gut, you shouldn't have said it. Actually, you shouldn't have said anything at all. Should have never called in the first place.

"Who?" You're back to Tobin and hear a heated whisper that belongs to Christen, most likely scolding Tobin for even asking.

"Can't- can't say," Your voice comes out oddly small, like it never has before- or at least never when you're speaking to them.

"Why?"

Tobin presses and it feels as though she's digging her nails into a freshly carved wound. Alexia has been an outlet as much as she's been a support in a country you had no clue about. She would take you out- well, you'd pay- but she'd pick the place, no matter if it were Madrid or Barcelona. Alexia knew all the good spots like the back of her hand. Whether it were ice cream or coffee, there was always a place.

So maybe... Just maybe, she'd become more of a friend than you'd want her to be. A friend that let you fuck your anger out on her just as she would on you- An outlet physically as well as emotionally.

Unhealthy, is probably the correct word.

You're about to answer Tobin with a lie, something you don't normally do but maybe Spain has changed you? You never used to be so meek after all. But then, another call flashes on the screen, Alexia- or Putellas as she is on your phone, there is no picture to accompany it because why would there be?

"Gotta go," You snap and press the green button to pick up the call.

"You ran away from me," It's an accusation that fits the crime. You had run away and Alexia is calling you out on it right now.

You swallow, "No, I just left."

Is it a denial? Probably. It sure sounds like one, your voice smaller than more and tone sadder than ever.

"Where are you?"

The question is fast, like it always is with Alexia. Her life is fast, like a car without brakes. She cruises along, going a 100 miles an hour with everything- Football, training, sex... There probably isn't a single thing that is not done fast and with efficiency.

"Well, my hotel."

"Send me the location."

It's not really a question because Alexia is sure of the answer and she's right because all the resolve you had earlier is somehow gone. You want her here, now and you could care less about how shitty you'll feel later when she's asleep and you're not.

So, instead of hanging up, you send the hotel and room number then call the reception to let her know she's alright to come up.

It's crazy what you're doing. Anyone would tell you that, Tobin, Christen- Hell, even the people who actually know Alexia, people you play with daily would tell you this is a shitty idea.

The shitty idea ends with Alexia on your lap, grinding into you while you kiss on the bed. It's fast, as always and you try to slow her but she's relentless and you decide to just flip the two of you.

You take Alexia by the waist and flip her onto her back so you're suddenly on top of her and this suits you much better. Especially when Alexia smirks and grabs one of your wrists, tugging the hand to her mouth then she separates your middle finger from the rest and closes her mouth around it.

She sucks on the digit, taking the entire length of your long finger a few times before growing bored and adding your pointer to the mix. This sends a hot flush to your stomach and your eyes darken as much as hers do as she traces veins on your hand with her red tongue.

This was about to be a long, long night.

As always, you end up awake. Lying on your back, staring at the unappealing ceiling with thoughts running through your head at the speed of light.

Alexia is next to you, wearing absolutely nothing and you can feel the heat radiating from her- It gives you the urge to shuffle closer to her, wrap your arms around her but you're not given the chance.

"Are you awake?" It's Alexia asking, in a soft sleepy voice and you jolt next to her.

You don't expect it and you're quite shocked that she's awake- She never has been after sleeping with you or at least not that you've realized.

"Yeah..." It's a meek response that has you cringing internally.

Then you hear her shuffle and suddenly she's pressing herself against you, in a gentle embrace that sends flutters into your stomach. Alexia's skin is against yours and it feels like a boiling sensation, in the best way possible, making you hot inside.

"I can't sleep too," Alexia murmurs into your skin and it's so low that you barely catch it.

You take the opportunity to wrap an arm around her shoulders and she doesn't protest, instead you can feel her lean in. Letting you hold her closer than you ever have as your arm is wrapped around her and your face is half buried in her soft hair.

This is different, familiar, close in a way you haven't been yet. You've played against each other, pulled shirts and tackled ankles when you shouldn't have. You've been sleeping together for what feels like forever, whenever you can but this is close, this sharing you're doing in that moment.

Life isn't going at 100 miles an hour right now. You're not in Madrid, Alexia isn't in Barcelona, you're not mortal enemies that are pitted against each other anymore. Instead, you're here and she is too- Really here, in the moment. Not in some distant land dreaming about how to beat you in another match and you aren't doing that either.

It's good, this thing you have, in that moment.

You fall asleep soon after, questions on the tip of your tongue fade into nothingness as dreaming takes over.

You wake up the next morning to an empty, cold bed. Alexia is gone, as she normally is or sometimes as you are, leaving the other alone when they wake up. Usually, you'd feel some sort of resentment or maybe sadness but this time nothing comes, you're sort of content as you lie in bed. Alone.

The Ballon D'or the year your first season with Real Madrid ends is on a Monday in October and you're once again shortlisted in the main competition: The desired golden ball. You know that Alexia is probably shortlisted too and you can already imagine her on stage in a dress that looks beautiful on her, speaking Spanish you don't understand and taking home her third award.

You try not to think about losing for the fifth time as you make your way to Paris, the plane which is thankfully private is stuffy and you wonder briefly whether it's your choice of clothing. You'd opted to wear a suit, dark blue almost black with a sharply cut fit to make your stature pop even more. It's matched with a white starched shirt that is a little itchy and a bowtie in the same navy that looks a little uneven but you'd be in the audience the whole time anyway.

It's raining when you get to the Theatre where the awards are being held and you can't help but see the weather as fitting, after all, this isn't your happiest moment. You're grateful but it's unlikely you'll win, not with Alexia and her teammate, Aitana being shortlisted alongside prominent footballers from other major leagues.

You smile for the cameras, standing alone on the red carpet to get into the event. You hadn't taken anyone with you, Tobin and Christen are all the way in the US and flying them out to only take one of them seems counterproductive. Your parents aren't really in the picture anymore, so they aren't a viable option. Then again you haven't spoken to Alexia since the season had begun in September.

The two of you had seen each other over a couple of free summer weeks but it wasn't anything special. Mostly lazing around at random apartments that you'd rent or hotel rooms and sometimes, when you felt like it, you'd go out decked out in sunglasses and hats to ice cream shops or bars.

It was nice and slow, just like that one night in Bilbao. As if you'd put a pause on everything around the two of you, all the rivalry and seeming hate to just... be.

But ever since the start of the season, you haven't heard anything from Alexia, not even a singular text or dm. You figure that she's cut the breaks and is going faster than the speed of light again, chasing results with a club that she loves. You can't fault her, you're doing the same. Putting the intensity in order to create waves in Liga F for the first time.

The awards start an hour after you arrive, you're sitting in a stiff chair next to a Barcelona player you don't know. She's tatted from what seems like head to toe and the bleach is fading from her hair but you recognize her from some of the matches you've played against the Catalan club.

That must mean that Alexia is close or at least not on the other side of the large hall and you're not sure if you're ready to see her again- See those honey eyes that cut into you without any issues or that grin that disarms you every single time.

"Are you L/N?"

It's the woman next to you, she's speaking in a heavy Spanish accent that is different to Alexia's more practiced one. It's as if she doesn't speak the language often.

"Yes and you are...?" You ask, hoping that the question doesn't come off as rude because you know that she's important, just not actually sure who she is.

You hear a giggle, "Mapi, León- We study you a lot before the Clásicos, Ale insists."

You raise your brows in surprise at the admission. Alexia had been studying you, just like you'd been doing with her for years and a sense of weird... Admiration fills you.

The awards take a similar route as always and you're mostly bored until the women's awards being, with best eleven and then the Ballon D'or- You're sinking into your seat when the different candidates photos are flashed on the screen, yours being an action short in a white Madrid shirt and you recognize it as your debut goal.

There is a hush when the presenter begins to speak, opening the sleek black card to look at the name before leaning to speak into the microphone.

"The 2025 Ballon d'or France football is Y/N L/N."

You let out an audible gasp because you'd expected Alexia to win or maybe Aitana or Hasen but this- You- is unexpected, a shock.

You stand and walk to the stage, heart racing faster than it ever has and you feel unstable on your feet, slightly shaking and you stand in front of the podium with the famous golden ball in front of you.

You lean forwards to speak, something that you hadn't put a single thought into because you'd truly expected to end up as second best.

"I'm extremely thankful to receive this prestigious award," Your voice is a little shaky but you push past it.

"I want to dedicate this to all the people who have helped me get to this point- My coaches at the club who have helped us secure titles this year. Barry, my agent who I have to thank for getting me to this position and of course, I thank my teammates, both club and national, for supporting me in this journey and allowing me the possibility to achieve such an award."

"Thank you all and a good evening."

It feels odd, walking away with an award you've only seen from the sidelines. Something that only the best of the best hold and now you guess that you're one of them too.

The text is short and you read it at the after party held in the theatre,

Outside.

It's Alexia and a sense of dreadful excitement envelops you as you walk outside and see her for the first time that night. She's wearing white and your mouth goes dry when you see her, she's perfect. Absolutely perfect.

The white dress with golden accents that makes her look like an angel sent from the heavens and a grin plastered on her face that lights up the dim alley way you're standing in.

Then a grim reminder sets in. You've heard nothing from her since the beginning of September and you haven't held her since August. You're practically back to square one, nothing but playful fun.

"Congratulations, best player," Alexia smirks and leans forwards to capture your lips in a heated kiss that makes you want to kiss back but you don't.

You push her back gently by the shoulder and look away, towards the ground because you cannot stand the hurt look on her face. Why is she looking at you like that? Like she gets to be angry or sad when she is the one who has been dragging you through the water for a year.

"Don't- Just don't, Alexia," You say it sternly, like there is no room for argument because you don't intend there to be.

"What?" Alexia says, shock apparent in her voice and you're stunned.

Is she joking or being serious?

You wave your hands in the air at nothing in particular and look her in the eye, "I can't do this anymore- This thing."

"I- I... I can't sleep with you anymore, Alexia," It comes out as a whisper when you intend to yell. You're soft and she knows it.

"Why?... why- It's fun and you're fun..."

"I can't! I can't just fuck you everything other time and hold you and feel nothing!" You're yelling when you intend to murmur and it feels like a bad joke- All of this, the award, the weather, Alexia. All of it.

"I- I... I- I just..."

You can't find the right words because there are none. How do you tell Alexia Putellas you're in love with her when you don't actually know her?

It turns out that winning a Ballon D'or isn't that good after all, not as joyful as you'd imagined it would be.

The next time you see Alexia is at a newly renovated Camp Nou in January, at an el clásico that has the people on the edge of their seats. You're neck for neck with Barcelona with a goal each and the clock is ticking, final minutes running out rapidly fast as you dribble the ball up the inside of the pitch.

The Barcelona defense is tight and you know it so you pass it off to Athenea before lapping her, opening the space for her to fill before passing it back. It's a simple move that would have normally not worked but you're in injury time and the fatigue is catching up to everyone.

So your tap in goes into the back of the net somehow and Madrid pulls in front- In all the shock, you just stand there as your teammates crowd you, yelling and screaming praise. It's half a second later that you make history, Madrid wins the first clásico at Barcelona's home stadium in front of a crowd of 96 000.

The rest of the night, you go through the motions- Shock, joy, pride fill you in varying ways but all of those are traded for something else when you see her.

Alexia, with wet hair and a team issue tracksuit standing outside of the away changing room, looking uncharacteristically nervous as she fiddles with the hem of her top. Your graze is hard when you meet her eye, you haven't seen her since October and you'd purposely avoid social media as well because you know she's on there.

So you put your headphones in and try to walk past her but a hand shoots out and grabs your forearm, making you whip around to look at Alexia. Sky blue meets honey brown when you're forced to look at her, all comfort comes flooding in without invitation- You'd been lost ever since you'd walked away from her and here she is now. In front of you with wet hair and Barcelona colors like you never even left.

"Come...Come with me?... Please?" Alexia mumbles and you have to strain your ears to capture the rasp of her voice.

You can feel your resolve breaking by the second. Alexia doesn't sound confident as she normally seems to be, there is no teasing, no bite, no smirk in her voice. So you catch yourself nodding before you can fully compute what has just happened.

The trip to Alexia's is a blur, she drags you through Camp Nou to the parking lot, ignoring your respective teammates' stares by tunneling her vision on the exit. Alexia's car is nice, almost as nice as your BMW you think but you don't say anything- Instead you shove your bag in the back with hers and sit in the passenger seat while she drives.

The drive is silent, the radio is off and all you can hear is your own breathing alongside the murmur of the car engine. The apartment complex is nice and so is the parking garage but you could care less, you drag yourself into the elevator with your duffle on your shoulder and resist the urge to lean into Alexia for a hug.

As soon as the apartment door shuts with a soft click, Alexia drops her bag and turns to you then shoves herself into your arms, making you drop all your things to wrap strong arms around her. You angle from head down to bury your face into her hair, her shampoo is the same as it was and it oddly reminds you of something you haven't felt in forever...Home.

"I-I...I think I love you," Alexia whispers into your jacket and you swear your heart explodes. Bursts into a million pieces from joy.

You toe your shoes off and she does the same then you pick Alexia up without speaking, letting her wrap a pair of strong legs around your waist as you grip onto her back. It feels right, this weird thing you're doing now, feels like home when home is so, so far away.

You find the sofa, lay her down gently before resting on top of her, your feet are hanging off the edge of the shorter side but you don't care. Alexia is here and she's in love with you.

"I'll do whatever you want, whatever you need," You mumble into her neck,

"Because, I think I'm in love with you too."

The world's greatest rivalries aren't born of hate, maybe you just had to learn that the hard way?