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sneezefiction · 4 years ago

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of night owls & early birds

Kuroo x Reader

desc: Kuroo, your roommate and longtime best friend, likes you but he really dislikes your sleep schedule. alternatively, your crush gets up way too early and you “suffer the consequences.”

a/n: the irony of working on this fic at 5 am doesn’t escape me… but it also hasn’t assuaged my awful sleep patterns. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: school/general anxiety, crass/offbeat humor (jokes about planning your own funeral), idk if you’re scared of love don’t read this - it’s very fluffy.

wc: 3.6k

--- You’re screwed, you think, as a light flickers on just outside of your room. It illuminates the carpet underneath your doorway with a warm orange tint.

And though it shouldn’t make your heart jump into your throat, it does.

You’d promised, swore to Kuroo, that you’d be asleep by 2 am - and to him, even that was a stretch. But he should count himself lucky that you’d even agreed to his demands at all.

After all, he is well-versed in the world of night owls.

Kenma, though maybe not your kindred spirit, shares at least a couple of qualities with you. Kuroo likes refer to these “qualities” as crimes.

One of these crimes (and quite possibly Kuroo’s least favorite) is your god-awful sleep schedule. And you’re a repeated offender.

There was only so much nagging and bickering you could take before you’d cracked and told exactly him what he wanted to hear. In a flurry of words, you’d agreed to turn off your laptop, close up your textbooks and actually put your head to a pillow.

You also may have been bribed.

To sweeten this deal, Kuroo had promised to buy you pizza this upcoming Friday, given that you actually did get some rest.

But as you reluctantly lift your phone, the glass screen glowing a little too brightly, you realize that it’s already 5:30 am.

You grimace.

It’s Tuesday morning. Meaning that the repetitive beeping across the hall is Kuroo’s alarm.

Your lips press into a firm line. Most birds don’t even get up at such a godless hour.

You can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a functional morning routine. Or a morning routine at all.

Leaning back in your plastic desk chair, you squeeze your eyes shut.

It stings.

You probably got so caught up staring at the blob-like words on your computer screen that, somewhere in the process, your body had forgotten how to blink.

And while the tension in your neck and shoulders is painful, it’s nothing in comparison to the festering guilt of not listening to your longtime best friend and now roommate (a suspiciously well-intentioned college boy who had somehow managed to win your heart over the course of this fall semester.)

Thinking back, working on your final English assignment at midnight wasn’t the brightest of ideas. It wasn’t even due for another week. But as due dates loomed, the impending fear of a bad grade had begun to burrow deeply within you.

If you could just pump the brakes on deadline anxiety, you wouldn’t feel so pressured to type incoherent sentences at odd and empty hours of the night.

And maybe Kuroo wouldn’t feel the need to coerce you into a firmer sleep schedule. Though you do find this caring habit of his to be inexplicably endearing.

Thus, the prickling feeling continues to infiltrate your restless mind and the brewing concoction of anxiety and guilt in your tummy makes you feel uneasy.

But before you can sneak into bed and tuck yourself inconspicuously under the covers, you hear a floorboard creak.

As if on instinct, you hold in a breath.

Kuroo isn’t one to forget about little promises. Of course, he’d want to know if you’d made good on your side of the deal.

Gently, you close your laptop and swivel your chair to face the door. You still your movements, keeping your body taut against the back of your chair.

More soft steps fall just outside of your room.

Your eyes can’t pick a place to land, so they choose to wander. And with a quick scan of your room, it doesn’t take you long to realize that your bedside lamp had been left on - an instant giveaway.

You begin planning for your funeral.

However, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t go out this way. You prepare yourself for death by interrogation or shame-induced coma.

Regrettably, neither options seem very interesting to you. If you ask politely, maybe your friends will engrave a portion of an epic poem into your gravestone just to make your passing seem more sophisticated. Yeah, that sounds nice and pretentious.

Okay, you might be overdramatizing things - Kuroo would never send you to your grave. But that doesn’t change the fact that your psyche likes to play tricks on you in the wee hours of the morning and that the eerie quality of the atmosphere somehow reminds you of a cemetery.

As you sort through who-gets-what on your will, there’s a not so sudden knock on your door. The soft tap makes your heart skip for two reasons:

The first being that you still haven’t gotten used to the fluttering in your chest from him being present all the time. Developing a crush on him (and suspecting feeling on his side) had made you a little jumpier over the past few months.

And the second had to do with the fact that you were actually going to have to talk to him about this. To apologize for being a bold-faced liar. It wasn’t clear to you whether you’d be teased or reprimanded. And honestly? You’re not sure which option would feel worse.

So you take a breath and steel yourself.

“Y/n?” A gravelly voice sounds from outside your room.

It’s tainted with sleep. You shiver.

There’s a preemptive sigh, “C’mon y/n, your light is on. I know you’re awake.”

You’ve been caught, so there’s no point in prolonging it.

“...You can come in.” You reply meekly, clenching and unclenching your fists.

The door cracks open.

That soft orange hall light floods into your room and directly into your eyes. With a squint, you try to fully visualize Kuroo. He’s positioned himself so that he’s leaning in your doorway with his arms crossed.

Before coming to grips with the situation, you scan the boy up and down. Amusingly, you realize that he has to duck his head just to fit underneath the door header - he really is tall. You have to wonder if he’ll ever stop growing.

Aside from his intensified bedhead (which doesn’t shock you) and the sleepiness in his eyes, he looks normal. But you must look positively spooked, because the moment he sees you, there’s a flicker of humor in his golden eyes… and an almost invisible smirk.

At least he isn’t angry. That fact alone allows you to let out the breath you’ve been holding in. Anger isn’t really a trait you’d ascribe to him anyway.

“It’s funny…” He wonders aloud, “I thought we’d agreed to something yesterday.” Kuroo brings a mocking hand to his chin in a thinking motion.

Your body naturally begins to shrink into your seat. You want to sigh, protest, explain yourself… anything to keep him from lecturing you. But, technically, you deserve this.

“I’m pretty sure you promised me you’d be in bed, asleep,” He emphasizes “by 2 am…”

“And” he adds, motioning evenly to your set up, “I highly doubt you’re up early just to get work done.”

You bite your lip while gripping and releasing the fabric of your sweatpants.

Kuroo isn’t a mind reader by any extent, but the body has a language of its own. Right now, your actions are murmuring signs of discomfort. And exhaustion, according to your dark circles.

Kuroo heaves out something between a sigh and a yawn before he takes another couple of steps into your room.

The sound of mattress springs and rustled bed sheets gets you to turn your head toward him, though you hesitate to meet his gaze.

He makes himself comfortable.

This is a familiar scene, Kuroo invading your space. Well, it’s less of an invasion and more of an unspoken agreement that the both of you can ‘come and go as you please’ in regards to bedrooms, granted that the “invader” knocks first.

Essentially, if Kuroo wanted company, he would find his way to you and plop himself on the edge of your bed. You would do likewise. The interaction could last 5 minutes or 3 hours depending on your mental stamina that day.

In a way, it mimicked your childhood - going over to Kenma’s and knocking relentlessly on his bedroom door until he finally let you and Kuroo tumble through the doorway together. The only difference now is in the way that you spend time together. Conversations become deeper a lot faster. Belly-laughs after a miserable day of classes are considered sacred. Study sessions are done shoulder to shoulder and with a myriad of disgusted faces when frustrated with a particularly tricky problem.

But this is different from your usual conversations. It’s sickeningly early, you haven’t slept a wink, and a tidal wave of stress from this entire semester is finally crashing into you.

“I’m sorry,” You start softly, fiddling with your fingers, “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about this expository essay I’ve been working on and my mind is totally numb. I’m so stressed out by all of these-”

“-Classes.” He finishes for you.

You swallow, bobbing your head softly in confirmation.

“I get it.”

And just by looking at him, you know he understands. For someone so laid back and put together, Kuroo’s eyes could speak a novel’s worth of emotion and information at any given moment.

“But you’ve already spent more than enough time on it.”

Have I really? Have I actually done enough? Because it feels like I’m failing. Like I can’t seem to finish what I’ve started. I can’t even complete this paper.

But at least Kuroo sounds resolute.

He’s stating a fact, not an opinion.

And he’s not trying to be unempathetic. He does get it, he really does.

But Kuroo also sees how hard you work already. And he knows all too well that there’s only so much work you can get done in one night. You’ve got enough on your plate even without your classes, so having the extra academic pressure is just the cherry on top.

“Mm,” you hum, “yeah, I guess you of all people would know.” You hunch over and rest your elbows on your thighs, using your hands to prop your head up.

He’d been there at your most and least productive moments. On days when you were cranking out a few thousand words and nights when you could only jot down a few sentences. Hell, Kuroo had even volunteered to help you edit and format it when the time came. What kind of person offers to do that before they’ve even been asked to?

It’s just another feature of his charm, you suppose.

But you still feel stuck. Like you’re a boat stranded in the middle of the ocean and you just can’t seem the muster up the strength to pull up the anchor. The anxiety lingers.

“...It just doesn’t feel like it’s ever enough, y’know?” You breathe out.

There it is. Finally out in the open.

And Kuroo hums thoughtfully to himself.

He’s been there.

Not knowing if the effort he put into his work was having any actual effect. Being unsure as to when he should stop taking responsibility for something. Putting work, classes, and people before himself.

It’s draining; a swirling spin-cycle of exhaustion.

But he’s also been learning that “enough” is subjective. So he decides to say just that.

“Enough is a pretty vague word, don’t you think?”

You blink.

Yeah, you suppose it is.

Hopefully this isn’t another one of his bizarre epiphanies - the kind that makes you think your brain is going to implode. Sometimes Kuroo could be a little too philosophical for his and your own good. But you humor him anyway.

Shifting in your seat, you give him a stiff nod.

Satisfied with your understanding, he proceeds with his thought.

“What I mean is that we probably have totally different definitions of enough...” he drawls on, “... and different standards too.”

“Okay...”

“What I mean is that-” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “-what’s ‘enough’ to you may not be ‘enough’ to me. And vice versa.”

Kuroo tilts his head back, brows furrowing in thought. He’s grasping for the right way to put it.

“Y/n, I think you’ve done enough. You’ve worked hard,” he points out, “and I don’t think I know anyone who deserves a break more than you do.”

That makes you pause. You lift your head up to catch his gaze - his eyes are already studying your expression. Something inside of you stops functioning because never have you seen such raw sincerity. Or maybe you have, but you’re only just now noticing it.

He gives you a gentle smile. It makes your chest ache.

“You mean it?” You half-whisper.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’ve known this for years now, but Kuroo truly has a way with words. They had the ability to pierce like a harpoon or stick sweetly to you like warm honey. Even with a few (thousand) shitty jokes littered throughout your conversations, it’s only natural to be awestruck by him. By his ability to make even the most awkward of situations a little more bearable. How he subliminally knows how to soothe and temper you. You think he would make a really great businessman - he’s quite persuasive; a real salesperson.

One part of you wants to apologize to him again. Another part wants to jump up and kiss him. To tear up and cry in his arms with relief. You chalk these potential reactions up to exhaustion and hormones… but you don’t write them off entirely.

Because suddenly being 3 feet apart feels like miles. And your bed is looking terribly comfortable.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, but you’re already moving from your seat.

He gives you an indifferent shrug - though he feels anything but.

“It’s your bed.”

Oh, you’re well aware of that fact. You can already feel heat rising to your face.

You stand up slowly, raising your arms to the ceiling in one final attempt to stretch. Then softly, you place a knee to the mattress and wedge yourself on the rest of the way until you’re sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He shifts his torso so that it’s facing you.

And now that you’re finally eye to eye, you can breathe.

He may be your crush, but you feel strangely comfortable in his presence. You always have. It’s part of what makes Kuroo... well, Kuroo. He embodies security while still pushing you out of your comfort zone. And for that, you’re grateful.

You break the silence.

“I really am sorry,” you echo your earlier apology.

You undoubtedly are. And you’re not sure why it feels like such a heavy thing to say over something as menial as a good night’s sleep.

“Hey, hey,” He soothes, reaching a hand over to ruffle your hair, “it’s no big deal, alright?”

You send him a half-hearted glare but it immediately breaks into a soft smile. His hand lingers for a moment longer than it should before he draws it away. You miss the teasing touch.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye-contact, but even as you look away, you note that his eyes remain concentrated on you. You can’t tell if it’s you who has moved closer or if he has. Either way, those few inches of distance have narrowed by a decent margin.

“I honestly just wanted you to get some rest. You’ve had it rough and by the looks of it-” He scans your face like he’s trying to diagnose you with something.

“Hey, watch it-” You warn, narrowing your eyes.

You already know you look tired. Kuroo loves reminding you of that in his own little way.

He smirks playfully, continuing anyway.

“-You could really use the sleep.” Kuroo’s raspy voice trails off.

“But apparently even pizza isn’t a convincing enough strategy.” He gives you a lopsided grin.

You shake your head, “Oh no, no, the pizza was very convincing.”

He scoffs, “Was it, now?” Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, “Because you seem very awake to me.”

“Can’t we just blame this on the paper, please?” You sigh.

He furrows his brows in contemplation, “Hmm, no. I don’t think so. This is partially your fault.” A rather underwhelming response.

“A small part.”

“I’d say it's fifty-fifty.” He reasons with a raised eyebrow.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Okay, you can quit whatever-” You gesture to his expression, “this is.” He always managed to pull the strangest faces and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh.

He snorts, “Oh? I thought you liked-” Kuroo gestures to his own face, “whatever this is.”

His voice has a curious edge to it. Some might even call it flirtatious.

And you go quiet.

You can’t help but stare at him. His messy hair, his barely parted lips. The fact that Kuroo just woken up and somehow still looks this attractive to you is so annoying. So frustrating.

And words are failing you.

It was an innocent comment. He’s just messing with you like he usually does. Maybe this has all gone a little bit too far. You should probably just say good night (or good morning) and rest your eyes.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the perfect segway into addressing your relationship.

At literally any other time of day, you might be more rational. You could reason with yourself that this is quite literally the weirdest time to bring up your feelings for him. But something in you needs to close the literal and figurative gap between you two. And, for some indecipherable reason, it has to happen right now.

Whatever the outcome, you trust that Kuroo will always be your safe place.

So you throw caution to the wind.

“Actually, Kuroo…” You begin, staring at your hands which are placed neatly on your lap. “I really do.”

His eyes snap to yours.

This time it’s Kuroo’s turn to go silent in contemplation. Taking in a steady breath becomes an act of labor.

“You… really do what?” He asks slowly, grasping for your intended meaning.

Your heart pounds.

“I really like you.” You clarify.

It isn’t at all eloquent, but it’s sincere. You’d once heard that honesty came easier late at night, but you had no idea that it applied to early mornings as well.

But you finally make sense of the words that just escaped your lips. Panic arises. In an attempt to hide, you bury your face in your hands. You wish you could put the words right back into your mouth.

“I-” You take a deep breath, “I think I spoke without thinking.” Is all you allow yourself to mumble.

You no longer trust yourself with words.

Your face, your whole body really, feels like it’s on fire. Humiliation begins to wash over you in red hot waves… but you startle when a pair of hands meet your wrists.

You lift your head.

His fingertips are warm and worn. Still decorated with calluses from his years of volleyball back in high school. You want to question why the world has withheld this touch from you for so long.

He lures your hands away from your face, grasping both of them gently. For a sensation so new, it was somehow strikingly familiar. A thumb is meditatively tracing small, slow circles in the middle of your palm.

You gawk in disbelief… and as you scan his face, you catch a hint of pink on his cheeks. You can’t say anything though - your own face feels like it’s just become 1000 degrees warmer.

“I kinda figured you might,” Kuroo breaks the tension rather… bluntly.

Of course he did, wait what?

“But the thing is…”

Is this some sort of rejection? Is he just letting you down gently? Is that why he’s holding your hands like they’re as fragile as fine china? Then why is he looking at you so sweetly, so tenderly-

“I wanted to be the one to say it first.”

You start planning your own funeral again.

However, this time, emotional whiplash will be your stated cause of death. At least it’s a more unconventional way to go out.

“I- uh,” you swallow, “w- what did you just say?” It comes out as a stammer.

You’re squeezing his hands a little too tightly. When you recognize your modest death grip around his fingers you loosen your hold.

Kuroo smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly.

It’s nothing like that cunning smirk that you find annoying, yet so adorable. It’s also not one of his full-scale grins. It’s far too simple and reassuring. You almost don’t trust it.

“Well, in short, I like you too,” He re-explains, searching your face for a reaction, “but... I’d hoped to tell you that over pizza on Friday.” Kuroo looks away.

If you weren’t already gaping over his personal confession, you would probably be laughing at this new side of Kuroo. He looks unmistakably bashful.

It takes you a second to recover, but you finally open your mouth to respond...

But you’re cut off by Kuroo, once again. His softened expression is long gone. And, much to your dismay, he’s suddenly shifting himself off of your bed.

“It’s just too bad you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain. I guess that means there’ll be no pizza… no movie… no me.” He slowly releases your hands, knitting his brows together to feign sorrow - it looks hilariously forced, but you’re too worried about the warmth leaving your fingertips to care.

He’s teasing you like you’re his best friend.

And that’s because you are.

So then why does it feel like something’s changed? Like he’s daring you to make the next move?

Before he can pull away and leave, you tug at his hand which draws his whole body toward you.

Your heartrate spikes through the roof. When’s the last time you’ve been this close to someone? To a guy? A guy who’s shown actual living, breathing interest in you.

And he’s in your face.

Close enough that his scent, his cologne, is drowning your senses. Close enough that his breath is fanning faintly against your cheek. Close enough that you know there’s only one thing left for you to do.

Before you can think to hesitate, your lips are brushing up against his.

Intuitively, he brings his hands to your face, closing any extra distance.

Kuroo’s thumb feathers over your cheekbone, stroking it tenderly. His lips apply very little pressure and it’s unbearably delicate, but it fills you with an indescribable warmth. His lips linger just long enough for you to detect the mint from his toothpaste - he can probably taste the cinnamon tea you’ve been sipping on over the past hour. As far as kisses go, it’s reserved, but perfect for this distinct moment.

Plus, you figure, this is just the first of many longer, more eager kisses - though you can’t imagine being more breathless than you already are right now.

But you can hardly get another taste of him before those warm hands on your cheeks are prying you away. He stares. You stare back. His eyes are brimming with something warm and full. You immediately choose to label it, “affection.”

And in a much lower voice, Kuroo murmurs, “Let’s save this for later.”

You scan his face, wondering if he’s actually serious. He gradually makes his way off of the bed and onto his feet and before you can protest, Kuroo is speaking again.

“You-”

He leans down and gingerly lifts your chin with his fingers. The gentleness of his touch almost makes you flinch, but you somehow manage to hold it in the road. Though now you’re really at a loss for words.

“-need to get some good rest.”

He places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You still feel it after he pulls away. After he closes the door. After you’ve laid you head down on your pillow in shock.

How does he expect you to fall asleep after all of that?

---

extra: this is dedicated to Izzy - our sleep schedules may be jacked up, but i’m pretty sure it’s a blessing in disguise if we’re taking our time zones into consideration. thanks for making me laugh & for not stealing my quarter of the braincell.

and to my precious friends and followers - thank you for being patient with me. it’s hard to post or even write at the moment, but i’m steadily pushing myself toward a better mindset. i appreciate your comments, likes, and the fact that y'all even bother to check out my works in the first place. i’m working on it.

also happy birthday, Tetsu. you’re a real star.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo

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peaches-writes · 4 years ago

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naturally

description: there’s something about bang chan, even if he’s not some senior crush you’ve pined over from the very beginning or a friend you’ve known forever, that just makes realizing that you’re in love with him as something that feels right member: chan genre: fluff, slice of life, high school au, college au, friends to lovers au, sports au (off season universe), campus dj au (if u squint), slow burn (?), fem reader word count: 12k wtf warning: explicit language, alcohol, a plot that makes zero sense note: idk what this is it’s so messy anw + @skzwriternet

Chan came in your life quite late—both literally and figuratively.

The two of you were in the 12th grade when you met, at a time when all everyone cared about were getting into their respective dream universities and establishing a solid group of friends to call back once they’re already on their separate ways. He got stuck in traffic that day and wasn’t allowed entry past the school gates at first because he didn’t get his uniform on time while you and your group of friends were on time in class, completely unexpecting of a new addition to the group as you all worried about the upcoming entrance exams.

“Oh, look at that, new kid.” Minho nudged your elbow and whispered loudly close to you that day, gesturing to the spaces between the curtains of the window facing the hallway. Outside, Chan was being ushered to the faculty room at the other end of the hall by a teacher, head hung low in embarrassment that he stood out with his black hoodie and sweatpants. “And no uniform on the first day—I feel like we should adopt him!”

You didn’t pay much attention to it at first, shrugging before returning to your messy Homeroom notes. An election was to be held at the end of the week and maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about it. “A bit risky, don’t you think? Right before the exams.” You mused out loud, more to the classroom elections than to the transferee.

“Do you think we’ll get him?” Minho asked anyway despite the lack of interest in your tone, leaning on your side of the shared table with a propped up elbow. “Or will Dahyun and Bam’s class next door?”

The answer was given to Minho over five minutes later, when the gentle sound of your Homeroom adviser’s voice was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Excuse me, good morning, Ms. Park!” The faculty head, Mrs. Liu, peered in your room that day with Chan trailing behind with curious eyes. “I’m so sorry for the interruption but your transfer student is now here!”

In front of the classroom, Ms. Park welcomed Chan with a smile and clasped hands. “Ah yes, Bang Chan, finally! Come on in!”

Chan introduced himself in awkward giggles and a slight miscalculated step when he didn’t immediately see the elevated area separating the black board and the first row of desks. “Hi, I’m eighteen-year-old student Bang Chan and I moved here from Sydney, Australia! Please take care of me!” You remembered him introducing himself at Ms. Park’s request before being seated right next to Hansol on the other end of the fourth row.

Minho, who eyed the boy curiously the entire time, sat up properly after and told you, “I’m gonna ambush him at recess. You wanna come with?”

You knew even then that you didn’t have to answer the question because as the bell rang for recess time, Minho had dragged you over to Hansol and Chan’s table as soon as he saw you pick up your wallet.

“Hi, I’m Minho and this is Y/N and we’re about to kidnap you!” Minho exclaimed as the two of you approached the unexpecting boy, earning you wide eyes from him. “If you want to, of course. Y/N’s gonna be class president again by Friday and I’m gonna be fighting Moonbin to the death for basketball captain so we’re clearly overqualified to show you around.”

You remember Hansol toppling over in laughter while you turned away in embarrassment. Not that it was uncommon for the most nonsense things to come out of Minho’s mouth then—in fact, it was quite the opposite.

Fortunately, Chan was easily persuaded. “Uh...sure, why not?” He grinned with relief, pushing his chair away from his desk and picking up his own wallet before following you and Minho downstairs to the cafeteria.

You ended up helping him buy snacks from the cafeteria and showing him around what you deemed as the most important areas of the campus within the thirty-minute recess. Because of the short time, he met your other friends belatedly at lunch.

Chan came in your life quite late—both literally and figuratively—but you suppose it’s not that bad because you’ve been friends ever since.

Minho was ‘disappointed but not surprised’ when Chan tried out for the swim team instead of his basketball team—his words not yours.

Club Week was not actually a week but a week and a half, giving everyone time to either succeed or fail in the clubs they signed up for and move on to the next. Since you were elected Class President, you decided on sticking only to what you considered your most important clubs for senior year: Volleyball and the school paper. Minho, on the other hand, unfortunately lost his ‘fight to the death’ with Moonbin over the team captain title but he kept insisting that it was because he really was fated to be the cheer dance team’s captain instead.

“At least, it’s one less sweaty kid I have to worry about.” You jokingly assured Minho once Club Week was over. You and your group of friends were huddled on your usual table that lunch break, comparing training and review center schedules.

“Ya, what does that mean?”

“It means you’re in two sports clubs and you never shower after any one of them!” Dahyun points out for you across the table, earning her ‘ooh’s and high-fives from everyone. “You should be embarrassed, Mingyu’s on three teams and he literally showers on Febreze.”

“But I do shower, just not as religiously as everyone.”

“Why not?”

“Climate change!”

You turned to Chan amidst the playful chaos, shaking your head in feigned disapproval. “Sorry, they’re five.”

The boy only chuckled. “It’s okay.”

“I’m glad you joined the school paper too, by the way.” You made sure to add, hinting that you saw him at your club assembly the week prior despite the large turn-out of people. “I heard from Jihyo at our last council meeting. Broadcasting, right?”

“Yep,” He nodded with pursed lips and an eye smile. “so you guys will hear me DJ for the rest of the year too.”

“Can’t wait.”

Chan’s first gig as the school radio’s DJ was the Friday that followed, in the middle of your student council meeting. He sounded nervous at first, which made you, Jihyo, and Seungkwan laugh while you were presenting your batch’s initiatives for the whole school year, but he made it out alive—and even included a shout out for you.

“Also, shoutout to Y/N! Thank you for showing me the ropes this month.” His voice echoed faintly through the hallways at lunch break. A pause then followed, what you assumed was Changbin and Jisung scolding him, before he snickered and said, “I guess Minho and Hansol, too! See you tomorrow, you guys!”

Ever since the 7th grade, you’ve made sure to follow each and every one of your closest friends’ extracurricular activies. From Dahyun’s and Jihyo’s recitals to Bam Bam’s and Minho’s competitions and meets, you were always there: half as a volunteer for the school paper and the other half as a cheering friend. It’s your way of looking out for your friends, by standing in the sidelines for support.

So naturally, with the addition of Chan to your friend group, you always came to his swim meets with a camera, a write-up outline, and a tarpaulin you’re quite sure Minho and Bam Bam didn’t make while sober the night before.

“Like the slogan, dolphin boy?” Bam Bam snickered at Chan as he sat on his designated waiting area right in front of your bleacher. It was the final tournament for the semester and your two other friends have decided on a lazy ‘Let’s go Dolphin Boy!’ decorated in glitters and a Photoshopped photo of Chan’s head in a dolphin. “When are you going on?”

Chan turned to your group and immediately slapped a hand to his face in embarrassment. “Oh my God...”

“To set the record straight, Jihyo and I were studying together last night and Dahyun was at piano lessons.” You held your hands up in self-defense to an eyeroll from Minho. “The poster’s all on Bam and Minho.”

“I know.” Chan mumbled behind his hand, removing it slowly after. “I’m on in five minutes. And what happens when I do get a place on the stands?”

“Then we’ll stand up and wave this harder!” Minho answered this time, aggressively waving the cartolina and causing a few glitters to scatter on your jeans.

“Minho!”

Chan competed in 1500 m I.M. and all the butterfly relays on that day and only then did you notice that he liked competing in them more than the other categories. You took photos and noted the important details with Bam Bam’s agile typing on your phone throughout the event, up until Chan received his mostly gold medals—when Bam Bam and Minho did kept to their word and ambushed the poor boy by throwing the slogan over his head when he asked for a group photo with everyone.

“This is like the Avengers of extended friend groups!” Dahyun joked once the chaos has died down and you’ve managed to get everyone to prepare for a couple of group photos. “Now I’m even more excited for dinner!”

A couple of Chan’s childhood friends also came that day—Younghyun, Somi, Sana, Lisa, and Matthew whom you befriended after over dinner that was Chan’s treat. It looked more like a weird family reunion to you than what Dahyun thought but you laughed anyway as you adjusted your camera settings.

“Okay, you guys ready?” You asked the group once everyone’s settled down, arms slung over each other and bright smiles ready to be taken for Instagram updates. “One, two—“

At the center of the photo, with a big bouquet of roses and several medals, Chan suddenly shifted in his position under Matthew’s and Younghyun’s arms and asked you, “Wait, wait, wait...Y/N aren’t you joining?”

You shook your head, making everyone erupt in protest. “Ya, then who’s gonna take the photo?”

Minho doesn’t exaggerate it one bit whenever he recalls this that Chan literally bolted out of the group to pull in his nearest teammate to take the photo, quickly tugging you to him afterwards and positioning you right in front of him once the group photos were taken. You ended up with his arms and his bouquet draped over you in all of the photos.

With the college entrance exams fast approaching over a month later, you found yourself juggling your academics, cram school, Volleyball training, student council, and the school paper all at once. It was manageable at times, with the help of your teammates and clubmates, but of course there would be days when you would almost fall asleep on the spot at Saturday cram school, in particular.

Chan was no better as he balanced academics and cram school with his own swim training, the school radio, and preparing a portfolio for his talent exams at the Departments of Music for every university he applied to.

Fortunately, you both went to the same cram school with everyone else. Seated next to each other, you bought Chan coffee while he passed you candies and chocolate he would get from his mom through the mail.

“You, uh...” Chan nudged your knuckles with his softly one time, alternating his gaze between your open notes and the formulas being discussed on the white board two rows ahead. “The answer’s 2.”

“Hm?” You hummed tiredly, free hand supporting your cheek as you tried so hard to pay attention and follow along. The day prior was meetings upon meetings that lasted until 8:30 PM, pushing all of your time allotted for homework to midnight since you had to take the bus home. To say you were so tempted to fall asleep then was an understatement.

Knowing this, you saw Chan take the liberty of writing the correct answer on your notes through your half-lidded eyes, poking your knuckles with the end of his mechanical pencil after. “You have the whole solution down but the final answer is 2, silly.” He chuckled softly, discreetly passing you another gummy bear from under the table. “Do you even know what you’ve been writing?”

You nodded even though your brain was barely processing anything, receiving the gummy bear after. “I think so?” You mused out loud, making him laugh.

“We’ll just have to go through this again later. You should’ve stayed at home and rested if you’re so tired.”

You found out later, when you were much awake to have lunch at a nearby cafe with Chan, that the boy took down the notes for you in a fashion similar to your note-taking technique for you to copy—and that he drew a small dinosaur on the margins of your notebook with a text bubble that said, “You can do it!”

Chan has made it a habit to bring you an extra thermos of coffee and drew little animals on your notebook whenever the two of you were bored ever since.

You showed up at Chan’s doorstep on his first Christmas Day in Korea, not really expecting to see his mom with his aunt on the other side of the door.

“Hi.” Chan mustered up a rather confused smile, growing even bigger and less shy right in front of you the longer he gazed at your own wide eyes and long travel coat. “Y/N, hi.”

“I thought you were—“ You unconsciously gestured to his extended family running around the hallways behind him, furrowing your brows. “Hi, um, should I just—should I just go?”

Chan furrowed his brows, instinctively pulling you closer to the doorway by your arm once he noticed the snow falling harder behind you. “What? Why?” He asked at the sudden proximity. “What’s up?”

His unintentionally blunt tone with the question definitely had you caught off-guard and flustered. “O-Oh, I just thought—I thought you wouldn’t be with your parents and siblings for Christmas so I came over.” You cringed internally at your truthful but rather cheesy answer. “Everyone’s skating at the mall today and I thought of inviting you because I assumed that you’d be lonely here with just your uncle and auntie...”

Another smile, an amused one, settled on his lips as you talked. “Really?” He mused out loud to which you nodded absentmindedly at. “We could go right now, if you want. My mom would probably tell me to bring Hannah and Lucas along, though, if that’s okay.”

Your eyes widened for the second time that afternoon. “W-We can, yeah.” You nodded slowly to both questions, breaking into your own smile.

“Okay, come on in first, then, it’s cold out.” Chan then took you by the same hand inside, closing the door behind him and leading you to the shoe rack for your boots. “My mom’s been looking for you and everyone else since they landed here too! You should be able to stop her from fussing over dinner so much.”

You met Chan’s parents and siblings that day, almost getting stuck in his aunt and uncle’s house because of his mom’s excitement at meeting one of her son’s friends in Korea until Chan smoothly brought up your offer of going to the skating rink with his siblings. You eventually left the house with him and his younger siblings right before Minho could text you that you were taking too long.

“You do know how to skate, right, Chan?” Minho asked when you arrived. He sat between you and the boy in question to rest his feet from racing with Dahyun, removing his skates and stretching his legs forward. “Y/N and Jihyo suck at explaining things she’s already good at and Bam Bam’s a deer walking for the first time so the choices for teacher aren’t really looking so well for you right now.”

When you looked over at him from Minho’s shoulder, he simply shrugged. “Shouldn’t be that hard. It’s just ice and blades, right?”

But it ended up being very much so, at least for him as he ended up reaching for yours and Jihyo’s hands before you could even run off to join Minho and Dahyun on their race. “Okay, okay, I was wrong!” He exclaimed dramatically, gloved hand meeting your own when Jihyo jokingly moved her hand away. “I’m going to fall over!”

“You’re doing fine.” You rolled your eyes in feigned exasperation, holding his hand anyway as you slowed your pace. His siblings then passed by the two of you, giggling over their eldest brother tripping on ice. "Look, even your siblings are doing fine and you came from the same place as those two.”

“Chan, you’re being dramatic.” Jihyo added to tease him further, gracefully sliding away from the two of you. “‘It’s just ice and blades, right?’ You’ll get used to it!”

Then, as if for unintentional emphasis, Chan almost tripped at this and instinctively held your hand tighter. “I really am going to fall if I let go.” He pouted, linking your arms together instead. “Can’t you really teach me?”

You unlink your arms, catching his hand again. “Fine, I’ll try but don’t cling to me too much.” You pointed out, laughing when he interlocks your fingers together. “You swim in deep ass Olympic pools back and forth like it’s nothing, ice shouldn’t be that scary to you, you know.”

With that, you spent the rest of the afternoon teaching Chan how to balance himself on his skates (and getting him out of Minho and Dahyun’s way as the two circled the rink like two roller derby players). He perfected his balance at the end of the day but he still wouldn’t let go of your hand so naturally, you came back next year.

And next year eventually turned into an annual tradition between the two of you.

The exam results then came in the middle of your final Volleyball game which was probably not good for your adrenaline levels but everyone found it amusing.

Your team was leading in the final set, 23-22, and you could tell as you delivered volley after volley that your opponent was already losing hope. On the sidelines of the open gymnasium, Bam Bam and Minho held up the ugliest orange cartolina ever with ‘HAIKYUU THAT SHIT Y/N!’ in mismatched marker colors while Jihyo, Dahyun, Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan screamed their lungs out for your team.

You’re quite certain the cartolina got confiscated by your coach after for inappropriate language, you’re not quite sure even at present because you never saw it again, especially when it was dropped to the ground the moment everyone’s phones started ringing because of an e-mail from school.

You noticed it from the sidelines, even as you and another teammate delivered the final volley that lead to your victory. Chan held your phone with a bright smile on his face, directing it to you after as you and your team huddled for a group hug and greeted the opposite team for the last time.

“Congratulations!” He greeted you as soon as you’ve celebrated enough with your teammates, waving your phone in front of you as he approached with everyone jumping not far behind him. “On both!”

“Both what?”

Before Chan could even answer you properly, you were engulfed in a big hug by Jihyo, Seungkwan, and Dahyun. “You did it!” They exclaimed in unison. “You passed all of the uni’s you applied to! We all did!”

Immediately, your widened eyes and agape mouth sought Chan for confirmation, to which he simply nodded with a laugh and a thumbs up. “No way...” You muttered in disbelief, gaining feeling back in your frozen legs after to jump along with everyone in your group hug. “No shit, no way! Congratulations, guys!”

“Congrats to you too, dude! You won twice today!” Jihyo pointed out, making everyone laugh. “We’re still on for BBQ, right?”

“Well, I can’t be the only one paying now since we all passed the exam!”

You got hugs from the others as well (and an extra one with a high-five from Seungkwan because he was just so hyped about your volleyball game), receiving from Chan last since he wanted a photo with you after.

“We could do a group photo, you know.” You tried suggesting as you held your Finals tournament trophy in between the two of you. Hansol has both of your phones side by side in front of him, adjusting the settings a little before taking the photo.

“We could but that’s for later. I need a new contact photo for you!” Chan insisted. Before you could comment on his ridiculous excuse, however, Hansol was already taking photos of the two of you.

Chan did set a photo of you from that day as your contact photo—specifically the one where you were pretending to dump invisible water from the trophy over him. It’s ridiculous and it still makes everyone laugh whenever Chan’s phone lights up with this photo.

Graduation celebrations naturally came after, as soon as Spring Break was over. Bam Bam threw a house party for your batch that was anything but sober and civil, the clubs each had send-off parties, and the student council planned a Graduation Ball which was mostly just yours, Jihyo’s, and Seungkwan’s excuse to dress semi-fancy and have Chan invite Younghyun to invite his band, Day6, to perform a whole set of their new songs.

You came with your friend group, or at least you and Jihyo convinced yourselves that you did since no one bothered to look for dates. It had been your finals before the Saturday of the graduation ball and, on top of that, the two of you were busy ‘student council-ing’ as Minho worded it, organizing the event with the school faculty and a few parents.

You did dance with everyone by the end of the night too, Minho pulling you along by the hand in a group hug as you yelled out the lyrics to Days Gone By—one of the last songs of the evening. “Finally you can join us!” He exclaimed dramatically, pressing a kiss on top of your head as he slung an arm over your shoulder. He didn’t actually need to worry about spending time with you since you’re all staying in the hotel for the night anyway. “Loosen up, will you?!”

On your other side, you could only hear Chan laugh as Bam Bam proceeded into the center of your big circle to dance, challenging an unexpecting Yugyeom nearby after. He stole glances over to you occasionally, a fond smile on his lips whenever you’d catch him in the act. He actually wanted to ask you to dance but decided against it last minute, growing too shy at noticing that the crowds are mostly dancing in friend groups rather than pairs until it was ultimately time to retreat into your hotel rooms.

“Goodnight and happy graduation, Seoul High!”

Fortunately, however, Chan made up for this by waiting on you after the dance. You stayed behind with Jihyo and Seungkwan for an hour more once the students have either gone back to their hotel rooms or migrated to the hotel lobby to wait for their rides home; Chan was more than happy to lend an extra helping hand as you thanked the staff and made sure that the packing up was done orderly.

“You did well tonight,” He complimented you sheepishly as the two of you carefully packed up the stage’s sound equipment. The microphone he was trying to remove from the stands was still on then, making his voice echo faintly through the hall. “organizing the event and all.”

Your face heated up against the now softer stage lights as you moved the guitar and music stands from the center to the side where a staff member was waiting for you. “T-Thanks, Chan. Did you have fun?”

He simply nodded this time with a sheepish giggle, passing you the microphones after making sure they were properly turned off.

After this, Chan politely walked you and Jihyo back to your shared room with Dahyun just two floors above the one all the boys in your class reserved for themselves

“Night, Chan! Make sure you’re not being too loud with the boys downstairs, okay?” Jihyo bid him goodbye quickly with a small yawn and a mischievous smile as she opened the heavy door to your room with ease. “I’m pretty sure Bam brought that wireless microphone with him again—and it’s probably Mingyu or Seokmin’s idea again.”

“Don’t worry we won’t, I’ll make sure.” Chan nodded sheepishly before waving goodbye to her. Once she’s inside, he then turned to you and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You nodded slowly at him, a little hesitant. When he raised his eyebrows at this, you then suggested, “Um...I know this is sudden and it’s like 1 AM but you don’t happen to be in the mood for McDonald’s, right?”

“Seriously? At this time?”

“I’ll buy you an iced coffee if you want.”

So you ended up at the McDonald’s two blocks from the hotel where your graduation ball was held, wrinkled dress suits and all. You talked for what seemed like an hour more, played with the Powerpuff Girls happy meal toy he bought on a whim, and got scolded through calls and text from your friends because you didn’t invite them. Since this day, the two of you have been buying each other’s coffee from McDonald’s.

Bam Bam and Minho both moved further West in the city, the latter sharing his uncle’s old apartment with another friend of his, while Jihyo dorms with Mina, another friend of yours from another school, up North. Besides these, no one made a drastic change to move houses or dormitories from the area your parents considered near since everyone else attended universities relatively near. At university, especially on your first year, you, Chan, and Dahyun mostly stuck with each other; just now with the addition of Lisa who ended up attending the same university and Jacob whom Chan befriended in his classes.

Sometime towards the end of your first semester, when Bam Bam and Minho skipped school to crash one of your semi-finals Volleyball game, your now larger group of friends decided that Chan would ‘take one for the team’ and get a driver’s license for all of your travelling needs. He lost against Jacob and Dahyun of all people in the most intense game of rock-paper-scissors you’ve ever seen.

Because of this, for the two weeks leading up to finals week, you ended up risking your life accompanying Chan to practice in his aunt’s old SUV. During this time period, he either took you to and from university as well or from your neighborhood to the bar and grill you started frequenting with him and the rest of your friend group. It’s not that he’s bad at driving, his parking skills were just initially a cause of worry for you whenever he was driving in crowded places.

“Am I close?” Chan asked you on your first day of finals, leaning over your side of the car to check the side mirror. You had your reviewers for your Communications class glued to your face throughout the entire twenty-minute ride but that didn’t stop you from simultaneously being anxious of hitting someone else’s car right in front of your college building. “Can you check?”

You opened the window and briefly peeked your head out, turning to Chan after and almost jumping at how close he’s gotten. “It doesn’t even look like you tried.” You laughed through your immediate flustered expression, making him lean back in frustration as he prepares to move the car again. “How long have we been here? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Chan pouted, keeping a hand on your head rest as he now carefully re-attempts to parallel park. “Just five minutes.” He mumbles, alternating his gaze quickly between the front and back of the car. “So that means you’ve been studying well this entire time.”

“Your driving is already good I could even sleep in, it’s just the parking that’s worrying.” You pointed out teasingly, leaning on his hand to glance back at the situation behind you and poking on his new arm bands. “Speaking of, you do know that you don’t even have to park, right? It’s not like you’re going to wait for me.”

“But I’ll wait for you.” Your eyes met belatedly as Chan finally parks the car. “It’s just 30 minutes, right?”

“It’s two hours, Chan...” You quirked a brow. “Didn’t I text you that?”

“Really? Ah, well...I’ll just...” Chan chuckled sheepishly, clearly realizing his mistake at the last minute. “I can totally just hang around, I guess.”

But the problem was, Dahyun didn’t have class that day, Lisa was organizing a club party, and Jacob was in his own volleyball training. Chan ended up loitering around the swim team for a while and impulsively buying you lunch because he didn’t want to waste gas.

You bought him lunch when he passed his driver’s license in return.

“You probably need glasses now.” You pointed out to him as you happily ate your Burger King inside his car. The nearest branch to the driving school he attended had a relatively big parking lot, making the two of you sigh in relief that he didn’t have to parallel park this time. “I’m pretty sure I texted you that my exam was from 10 to 12.”

Next to you, Chan had his seat reclined and the windows fully open as he sipped on his Cola and munched on fries. “No, I checked it again the other day and you texted 10 to 11.”

“What?!” When you do check your phones, only then do you find out that you did mistakenly text him 10 to 11 instead of 10 to 12. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Should I buy you another burger?”

Chan simply shook his head and snatched the ice cream cup you’ve been saving. “I’ll just take this, thank you!”

“Ya!”

The first time the driver’s license actually came in handy was on your first volleyball game as a university student. Chan went on a round trip around the major universities in Seoul to pick up all of your friends which almost caused you to be late to the game but you could barely care then—you were too pumped over the idea of all of your friends coming together to watch you.

Besides, Chan volunteered to be a courtside reporter for the game so you weren’t scolded by your coach alone.

“Good luck out there!” Chan nudged your side with a wink as the two of you prepared to enter the arena with your team. He made sure that he had his microphone off twice this time. “I’d really love to interview you when you win.”

“When have I ever lost in front of you, hm?” You teased with a grin of your own, just as the backstage doors opened to the cheers and drums of your university.

And, true to your word, you win the game a little over an hour and a half later. With a small trophy passed around from your teammates and the promise of a day-off from your coach, Chan was the first of your friends to approach you.

“And here we also have SNU women’s volleyball team newest recruits, Y/N and Chaeyeon!” Chan introduced you and your teammate in front of the cameras. In the distance, you could see your friends then: Jihyo, Dahyun, Mina, and Lisa holding balloons in the color of your university, Bam Bam and Minho holding their usual embarrassing slogan, and Jacob jumping up and down excitedly over your game’s turn-out. “This is your first game and first win of the season, congrats! How does it feel, you two?”

Your eyes met Chaeyeon’s instinctively to your right, making the two of you giggle shyly. After a mini game of passing the microphones between each other, you eventually ended up answering, “Um, we’re very grateful that our first game gave us our first win as new members as well and we hope that we’ll continue doing even better in the semi-finals!”

“Yes! Everyone’s hoping so too, especially after watching your play today!” Chan commented, clearly going off-topic then by the way you noticed how his mini crew of fellow students looked surprise and even checked their own cue cards.

Once the interviews were over, you were then whisked away by Minho and Jacob—the former to catch up with you while the latter was so excited talking to you about your game.

“Dude you were so good out there! Like that serve on the first set that really riled up the opposing team’s captain? And and that over the net move you did with Chaeyeon! We should have a practice game sometime!” Jacob always talked a million times per second over things that excited him but you didn’t mind, at least now Minho had someone to compete with over who could say the weirder thing.

The interaction placed a rather childish pout on Chan throughout the ride to your promised Korean BBQ dinner, no one but Lisa paid it too much mind.

“Stop pouting you look ugly.” She said to the poor boy with a feigned judgmental face, switching seats with you earlier for the ride to dinner so you can discuss volleyball with Jihyo and Jacob. “Why are you even pouting? Something on your mind?”

“Nothing.” Chan only furrowed his brows and frowned, glancing over to you on the rear view mirror to see you laughing along to a video Minho was showing everyone on his phone.

it’s not Minho that bothered him, everyone with eyes and a braincell have always known that he’s in love with his current roommate.

Jacob, though...you play the same sport and are both equally passionate over it! It definitely made Chan think.

“Nothing looks like she’s having fun, huh?” Lisa mumbled under her breath in response after a moment, breaking out into a laugh when Chan finally glances over at her with a confused look. “Nothing!”

Lisa made sure you sat next to Chan after, dragging Minho and Jacob by the ears to the other side of the table.

On your second year, your favorite junior from your previous school finally entered college. Seungmin was also on the student council, school paper, as well as in the high school baseball team who often practiced with your volleyball team so you basically considered him your ‘child,’ much to his annoyance. Though he attended a university that was nearer to Bam Bam’s and Minho’s, you pestered Chan into driving you almost once a month to his dorm to visit, anyway.

Chan would’ve said no every time given his own busy schedule but you promised him every time that Felix, a friend of Seungmin’s who happened to come from Australia as well, and Jeongin, another junior you unofficially ‘adopted’ in high school, would also be there.

“Chan, I need to go to Seungmin’s, it’s an emergency.” You greeted Chan one day right after your afternoon classes. You found him in the library, studying for second semester midterms with Lisa and Jacob which did made you feel bad but you really couldn’t wait for the next bus anymore.

“What kind of emergency?” Lisa asked, prompting you to shake your head.

“The kids said it’s very bad...” You continued shaking your head frantically and that was enough for Chan to pack up his things and lead you outside to his car.

When the two of you arrived at Seungmin and Jeongin’s shared dorm, Chan was more than confused at seeing the former sprawled out on the common area carpet with his arms folded over his chest like a vampire while the latter and Jeongin hovered over him with worried looks and mini fans.

“Is Seungmin dying?” Chan asked you with genuine worry as you approached, which would’ve made you laugh with the choice of words had you not just been vaguely called on short notice to deal with the situation.

You didn’t get to answer him at first as your first instinct was to sit down next to Seungmin and ask Felix, “We came here as fast as we could. What’s wrong?”

In front of you, Seungmin groaned in pain and rolled over on his stomach, hiding his reddening cheeks from you. “Y/N, why are you here?” He whined, bringing his arms up to his head to hide his face further. “Did these two call you?”

“Yeah they did.” You answered firmly, rolling the boy on his back again that prompted more complaints from him. “Now, what’s wrong? School? Sports? Friends? Are you okay?”

It took a moment for Seungmin to remove his arms over his face and answer you and it undeniably made you and Chan nervous. When he did answered, it was what you least expected from him as he said, “Y/N, I think I have a crush...”

A pause then followed as everyone simply stared back at Seungmin who immediately hid in his hoodie once again.

“Oh for the love of God, Kim Seungmin! Are you kidding me right now?! I came all the way here for this?” You smacked him in the arm once you’ve recovered, finally breaking out into laughs as the other boys toppled over in laughter. Turning to Jeongin and Felix, you then asked, “So why did you call me? You could’ve called Minho, he literally lives three blocks away.”

Felix and Jeongin glanced over at each other and shrugged. “He said he’s having love problems,” Jeongin pointed to Seungmin innocently before turning to you. “So I thought of calling you. Aren’t you and Chan a thing?”

This time, it was you and Chan looking at each other and laughing. “No, no, we’re not a thing.” He clarified for you with a dismissive wave. “Y/N’s married in a poly relationship with academics and extracurriculars.”

“And Chan’s secretly a merman so it’s a hard pass.” You finished his thought jokingly, looking over at Seungmin after.

“You guys, I’m still in a situation here!” Seungmin frowned, lifting his head up to place on your lap. “I’m fucked, basically.”

“Well, since we came all the way here and gas is expensive, do you want to talk about it? Lix and I can cook dinner.”

With that (and a few more words to get Seungmin off of the floor), you managed to drag the lovestruck boy into the kitchen and cooked him tonkatsu with Felix and Jeongin on your tail. Chan kept him company the entire time, peering over his shoulder as he narrated the story of a certain figure skater he met at his Freshman welcome assembly. “We’ve been friends for a while and I really like them but they’re always getting into trouble!” Seungmin mostly rambled, making you, Jeongin, and Felix snicker with your backs turned.

“All the more reasons to see them often, then?” You suggested, much to Seungmin’s annoyance.

“Won’t I be too obvious? Or too doting? Maybe they don’t like that as much since they’re so independent. Agh, what do I do?!”

“Play it cool like you always do, kid.” You answered simply, patting his head affectionately as you passed by his spot to retrieve a basket of condiments “What do you think, Chan?”

You clearly caught him off-guard then by the way his eyes slowly widened and he instinctively sat up straight. “O-Oh, u-um—yeah, what you said...” He eventually agreed with a nonchalant shrug to cover up his shaky actions. “Don’t overthink it or else nothing happens.”

You re-joined Jeongin and Felix across the kitchenette with a chuckle, nudging Jeongin with your elbow after. “You kids are growing up! Ah, but it still kinda feels like yesterday when you two were just messing around back in high school.”

“We’re a year below you, what are you talking about?” Jeongin pouted, eyes not leaving the side dishes he was preparing. When you don’t tease him further about it with another side comment, he then adds, “Sorry for assuming you and Chan were dating by the way. That wasn’t weird, right?”

You shook your head reassuringly. “No, it’s cool! I’m just curious where you’d get that from.”

“Minho said—“ And that was enough for you to give your aforementioned friend an earful the next time you saw him after.

“So, Chan’s not dating?” Felix asked next to which you nodded at. “Oh, cool!”

“Why? Do you have someone for him?”

Though Felix didn’t say anything more specific after that, Chan was then coerced into a friendly blind date to the movies a week after, you heard it at his new sideline podcast with Changbin and Jisung of all places.

“I—“ Seungmin’s first reaction was to clasp his hands together while the two of you were listening to the podcast episode in YouTube. “I spill out my heart to you guys and over tonkatsu then I find out that this happened right under my nose that night?”

It was a month since his dramatic confession and a little over two weeks since Chan went on the blind date and you’ve been taking the bus with Dahyun to visit the kids ever since. Chan thought he did something wrong but you’ve assured him multiple times that you’re just trying to be considerate of him since he now has an additional person on his plate.

Dahyun also wanted to visit Jihyo and Mina so you decided on commuting with her in particular.

“Ah, well, that’s life—or college...or maybe both.” You shrugged. You often studied in their dorm living room to pass the time if Minho wasn’t up for being bothered with in his apartment—you found out throughout this that studying with a Legal Management major like Seungmin motivates you to go through your rigorous readings. “How’s your crush by the way? Any progress?”

“They want to try speed skating! Do you know how dangerous that is? Not to mention, the legality of it all...”

“This person seems like they get you up on your toes. I like it! Makes things a bit more exciting, don’t you think?”

“It just makes my head hurt.” Seungmin sighed, rubbing his temples dramatically for emphasis. “I can’t help but worry...”

“I think you’re sweet looking out for them like this.” You assured. “But it’s not sports if you don’t get hurt and we both know that.”

“Then what do I do?”

“Just look out for them. I’m pretty sure they’re not all that clumsy as you make them out to be—you said they’re an athlete, right?—but it’s still important to be there for support and help when they really need it.” You half-shrugged, not really knowing what else to say. “But not just as someone who has a crush. Be a friend first and foremost—I mean, obviously, since you’re not dating, you’re just friends, hopefully for now. Yeah, that’s it! Don’t overthink it, you’re friends not married!”

A thought then seemed to pass Seungmin as a small smile formed on his lips. He then pulled his knees close to his chest and leaned back on the sofa behind him. “So, is that how you are with Chan?”

“What?!”

“I mean he’s sort of dating right now but don’t you have a crush on him?” The younger boy asked in genuine curiosity. “Honestly, I was surprised that you let him go on that blind date with the Soyeon girl Felix recommended, much less a second date this weekend.”

“No—I mean no, I don’t have a crush on him.” You refused calmly though your voice clearly shook a little but not for the reason Seungmin thought it was. “We’re just friends. You’re going off-topic!”

Seungmin’s eyes lit up in interest. “Well, I thought about it so we’re talking about it now! Have you seriously never thought about it?”

“No, but I am now because you brought it up!” You shook your head back truthfully before smacking his arm with your reviewers, making him pout and wince at you. “Don’t do that! You’re like—you’re trying to brainwash me into having feelings or something!”

Seungmin instinctively held his hands up, filled with his own lecture notes, and shook his head at the accusation. “No I’m not!” He pouted at you to no avail. “I’m just saying that I’ve always thought there was something, with how you two are so close.”

“You and I are close, Minho and I are close,” You argued back with a small pout, crossing your arms. “Heck, Bam Bam and I are close and we grew up together since the 4th grade.”

Again, the boy shook his head stubbornly. “Yeah, we’re all different kinds of close, especially Chan,” He claimed with so much conviction. “You look out for me, Minho, and Bam Bam but Chan looks out for you as much as you do for him, if that makes sense.”

“See you can’t even reason out properly and you’re in Legal Management.” You scoffed playfully. “I look out for everyone the same way, Chan’s not that kind of special for me. Also, it’s basic human decency, Seungmin. I can’t believe you don’t look out for me back, to be honest.”

Though you came off as perfectly unbothered by this, there was a period when things started became awkward on your end and it frustrated you until the end of your second year.

Seungmin teased you to no end for it to make up for your equally endless questions about the person he’s taken interest in, Minho kept bringing it up whenever the two of you met or hung out in his apartment, and Dahyun only confronted you about it when it started becoming inconvenient for her as yours and Chan’s mutual friend.

“Chan keeps texting me if we want a ride to Minho’s but I already told him that we’re on the bus right now.” Dahyun showed you her phone on another one of your many commutes to Minho’s side of the city. By this time, it has been two months and three dates for Chan, with your time spend with said boy having reduced significantly. “Are you guys okay? Have you been talking lately?”

You furrowed your brows and nodded in genuine confusion. “Yeah, why?”

“It feels like he wants to ask me about you but he won’t say it directly.” Dahyun shrugged, leaning back on the seats. “It kinda gives me the impression that you guys fought or something.”

“We didn’t fight.” You assured with a small frown. “Nothing happened, really.”

“Then what is it?”

It took you a moment to answer as your mind instinctively went to the conversation you previously had with Seungmin. “I...you know when someone points something out to you in a different light and then it makes you think of a lot of things?” When you saw Dahyun nod slowly, you then took it as your cue to admit, “It’s something like that, I guess.”

And like you, it also took a moment for Dahyun to answer. “Well, how do you feel about it?” She asked back as a response. “I think I know what this is about but you don’t have to tell me if you’re uneasy telling me about it.”

And you were uneasy and confused, very much so. “I don’t think I’m feeling anything special about it, really.” You admitted in a smaller voice, finding your attention flitting down to your hands on your lap. “I feel like I’m just thinking too much on what that someone said and how they said it.”

“Then it’s probably nothing, easy as that. Don’t let people’s words get into your head too much, especially on things like this—if we are thinking of the same thing—or else it’s gonna feel like you’re being forced into having different feelings or think differently.” Dahyun shrugged with a reassuring smile. “If otherwise, even then don’t overthink it too much. Just let things happen as they are.”

When you didn’t respond immediately, she then took your silence to quickly add, “Anyway, bottom line is, whatever it really is that you’re feeling or thinking, don’t ignore Chan for it. Talk to him about it specifically if it helps just don’t make him feel left out just because you’re on a one-sided awkward situation.”

It was a tough love kind of advice but Dahyun pestered you about it until she saw you approach Chan first over a week later, when you personally asked him to carpool to Bam Bam’s place for a year-end party.

You’ve never seen Chan’s face light up as much as it did on that day at the campus library.

“R-Really?” He stuttered out in disbelief and suddenly, all hints of drowsiness had disappeared on his expression. “I mean, c-cool! Uh, what time should I pick you and Dahyun up?”

“Ah, well, what time should you pick up Soyeon if she’s going to carpool with us?” You asked slowly, rubbing your nape awkwardly as you stood next to his table.

His eyes widened in surprise before an equally awkward chuckle came out of his lips. “Soyeon’s not carpooling with us.”

“Hm?”

“She’s going with her own friends since they’re nearer to her place.” Chan nodded absentmindedly, pulling a chair for you to sit down. You took the place without hesitation, neck heating up in embarrassment over the thought that you seemed too eager. “We’re not actually dating anymore.”

“Oh?” You furrowed your brows as quickly as your expression almost lit up. “I mean, since when, if it’s okay to ask?”

“Since last week. I don’t know, we agreed that it’s really...not happening between us.” Chan shrugged nonchalantly, going back to his lecture notes. “It’s cool, though, we’re studying together next week at the new study hall near Itaewon.”

You nodded, exhaling a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding until then. “At least it’s not awkward or anything.”

“What about us?”

You immediately looked up at this, meeting Chan’s somewhat hopeful gaze that had you unexpectedly stammering, “W-what do you mean?”

“Did I do something wrong?” He pursed his lips nervously, voice growing smaller with each other. “It’s just that we haven’t talked a lot lately—or maybe I’m just overthinking it...”

You were quick to shake your head, mustering up a small smile. “No, you didn’t do anything.” You assured him gently. “I’ve just been—it’s nothing.”

“Really?”

You nodded, breathing in another sigh of relief. “Yeah, I just had a lot of things going on then. It’s okay now.”

And it really was okay then. Talking to Chan again assured you at the time that you liked him as a friend. You really really liked him at the time as a friend.

Third year meant preparing for your senior year and going on your Junior Year internship which is probably why Bam Bam scheduled a trip to his hometown in Bangkok in the summer before this. It was just him, you, Chan, Dahyun, Jihyo, and Minho as a kind of mini high school reunion—the small kind of gathering everyone naturally hopes for with the pacing of university life.

You stayed at his family’s house where his parents offered you the entire expanse of the living room to have a movie night and sleepover in on your first night, right before the overwhelming itinerary Bam Bam planned for the next five days.

“Rock-paper-scissors for the beds!” Bam Bam announced after your sixth movie of the night. The Meg really wasn’t that amazing in your collective opinion but that didn’t stop you from putting it at the bottom of your To-Watch list just to throw as much nonsensical comments as you can on it. “The expandable couch goes to first, second, and third; the smaller one goes to fourth, and fifth and sixth get the air bag!”

Unsurprisingly, you and Chan had to share the grey air bag because you simply were just unlucky that night (you accidentally got a Pringles bag that had more air on it than chips prior) and Chan was so sleepy right next to Minho from cramming a passion project with Changbin and Jisung on call. Not that you minded, you were actually glad you didn’t have to put up with Bam Bam kicking you in his sleep or Minho waking you up with his cuss-filled sleep talking.

“Are you okay with this, sharing an air bed, I mean.” Chan had asked you as you prepared to sleep some time at 3 AM. He was hunched over on the side of the mattress that wasn’t pushed to the wall, laptop perched on top of his area as he continued fighting sleep and finishing his project. Everyone else had gone to sleep earlier. “I can totally just ask Bam for a sleeping bag if you want me to.”

“It’s okay.” You assured him as you spread the blanket over the entire expanse of the small air bed before sliding in and taking your phone out from under your pillow. “Aren’t you slidi—tucking in too, though?”

His face lit up in genuine surprise, slowly shifting into appreciation and fondness right in front of you as he caught the concern in your own face despite the phone blocking his view. “In a bit...I’m just making a few adjustments with this.”

Changbin and Jisung erupted into yells on the three-way video call, their voices bursting so suddenly on Chan’s headphones that he immediately muted them before you could ask or even notice.

Fortunately, you didn’t. “Oh, then don’t stay up too late, Chan.” You pointed out in even more concern. You knew how he could get whenever he pulled all-nighters, you realized. “We have to start really early tomorrow—or later.”

He hummed absentmindedly with a small nod as he continued nodding, glancing back up at you again after a moment. “Then you should go to sleep already, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

“Who said I’m waiting up for you? I’m scrolling through my Instagram.” But despite your teasing tone, you still ended up scrolling through your phone until he finished his project, bidding Changbin and Jisung a quick good morning before ending the call and sliding in under his share of the covers.

“Okay now go to sleep.” He chuckled tiredly as he gazed down on you, hand accidentally brushing against your own in the small gap between the two of you as he placed it right next to his head.

“But you’re watching me,” You frowned disapprovingly. “turn around or something.”

“I sleep better like this and what if I closed my eyes and you took pictures even with my back turned?” He feigned a pout, bringing his hand under the pillow as he shifted more comfortably in place. “You sleep first.”

“You’re so childish.” You giggled, shaking your head stubbornly. “I won’t do that.”

“As if you aren’t too right now. You’re probably thinking about it.”

“On three, then? One—”

“Two—“

“Three.” With your cue, the two of you then closed your eyes at the same time, only to peek one each right after. “Ya!”

You eventually managed to fall asleep at the same time half an hour later with Chan reluctantly turning around for you once you had your eyes closed. He’d only see your sleeping expression a little bit later, when he woke up to use the bathroom at 7 AM and came back to check up on you sleeping comfortably and move more of the blanket to your shoulders.

“Look at these eyebags, you could carry souvenirs in them later.” Minho chuckled next to you on the ride to your first trip destination after, laughing even more when you swatted his index finger that moved up in an attempt to poke your eyes. “Nightmare? The Meg wasn’t even about ghosts, Y/N.”

“No, I just slept late.” You sighed, leaning back on your seat. “Chan and I stayed up a little longer.”

At this, Minho’s eyes visibly lit up and he wiggled his eyebrows mischievously at you, prompting a disgusted look on your face. “Ooh, did something spicy finally happen between you two?”

“No—and please never do that again, it’s disgusting!”

“It’s my eyebrows!”

Minho ended up teasing you throughout the whole trip, anyway, as you and Chan repeated almost the exact same routine every night.

You had your Junior Year Internship at a media network across the city and though Chan insisted multiple times that he can drive you to work before going to his own at an entertainment company in the opposite direction, you managed to convince him that you really can commute this time and spend the night at Minho’s if you went overtime. No hard feelings this time.

So with what his presence in your life suddenly lacked in being your everyday transportation, he made up for by spamming you constantly online.

“This place has Tim Tams in their cafeteria!” He’d send you the most random photos and videos of his day-to-day working in song production at the entertainment company, from actual work-related matters like sophisticated equipment he was allowed to use to the small things like the extensive cafeteria food and his boss’ pet Labrador. “What are you having for lunch?”

Being a P.A. at a media network, however, was much more fast-paced and required you to be running everywhere on your work hours. Chan understood, of course (hence the sudden influx of dog photos during a particular period that had you working overtime almost every day), but it still made you feel bad for replying so late because, whether you admitted it or not, his constant updates alleviated your stress.

More often than not, his spams would be responded with photos of you on the subway and video clips of Minho and his roommate who are always practicing cheer dance moves in their living room. “I had three Snickers today but I drank a lot of water so that should count for something!” You often replied, following with a clip of Minho falling on his butt after tiredly trying to land a flip. “This is your Minho update of the day. He’s getting there! I think he’s going to try out for cheer dance captain this year!”

At the end of the semester, Chan was more than happy seeing you again, so much so that he treated you with lunch and even offered you ice cream after. “You’re going to make up for all the full meals you’ve missed this semester!” He insisted as he picked you up from Minho’s place. The two of you ended up at a ramen house which was a far jump from your usual fast food dates—something you thought about the entire time.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.” You laughed but you let him order you food anyway since it was free. “Extra nori and eggs, please!”

You exchanged internship stories throughout the entirety of your lunch, laughing along to his stories of falling asleep in the middle of work and hearing his endless teasing over you getting starstruck with assisting your favorite artists on the job. You didn’t actually miss out on a lot of his shenanigans (that’s how heavily he spammed you) but you stayed in the ramen house for more than two hours, unconsciously drifting off to different topics and gossiping about your friends until the slight embarrassment of overstaying creeped in.

“Speaking of friends, I haven’t seen everyone else lately too.” Chan mused on your ride back home. He had his CD he secretly produced over his internship period playing on the radio as well as one hand on the steering while while the other fought you over the air conditioning. “I just know that you and Jacob train for volleyball together on weekends, Lisa’s busy with club duties, Bam Bam’s on an exchange student thing and Jihyo recently introduced us to the person she’s dating now.”

You leaned back in your seat and shrugged, finally giving up on the air conditioning to open the windows instead and admire the Han river on your side of the road. “Well, you know how Minho’s been doing with my updates and I haven’t seen Dahyun in a while too since she’s taking the most classes this semester.” You explained, extending your hand outside to feel the gentle Autumn breeze. Chan, despite being the swimmer between the two of you, thinks you’re crazy for liking the cold better. “As for many many other people I know, they’re either studying really hard or starting work now. Time flies and friends come and go, I guess...”

When you glanced over at him again, you saw his face scrunched up in thought as his hands blindly found the gear stick to slow down at an intersection. Once you reach the red light, he then meets your gaze, uncertainty in his expression that he tried playing off with a shrug. “Yeah but...is it weird if I said I don’t want that to happen with us?”

“N-No?” You found yourself answering before you could fully comprehend the question. Clearing your throat, you tried joking it off, “I think you might’ve taken the ‘I’m class president let me show you around’ thing back in high school, Chan.”

He shrugged, smiling as well at this. “Maybe I did, who knows? I like spending time with you.”

“I force you, you’re my ride around the city.” You teased, hints of sincerity coming through your tone of voice.

“But that’s because I like you, isn’t that what people do with people they like?” He said it with so much nonchalance but you couldn’t help but feel flustered at this, a reaction you immediately hid by laughing.

“You like me too much, it’s going to cause a traffic with all this sentimental stuff,” You pointed out, the cars behind you suddenly honking annoyedly as if on cue. “See? Even the people behind us agree.”

Chan wasn’t offended, however, not one bit as he continued rambling about liking you all the way to your dorm after. It flustered you at first, especially with how casual he was being, but, as you neared the turn to your dorm outside of university, you eventually caught up with teasing him back about it.

When you thought about it on your own once he left, you realized that you somehow liked it. It felt very natural—as if it’s something that’s always felt right hearing from him.

“I like Chan.”

“Yeah no shit.” Minho agrees absentmindedly, Seungmin and Jeongin nodding along while emptying their take-out boxes. You carpooled with Chan today as he drove Felix and Jisung somewhere to help them finish their term research paper. You were only supposed to hang out with Seungmin and Jeongin but Minho decided to ambush the three of you with Jihyo and Mina on their way to join your group at the younger boys’ dorm. “What else is new, Y/N? We haven’t met up like this in a while so I was expecting something spicier!”

“No, I mean—” You roll your eyes at him, smacking him with your rolled up lecture notes but to no avail. The boy simply opened his phone to check his messages, frowning when he then comes across a message from Jihyo and Mina informing him that they’re stuck in traffic. “I really like Chan.”

“Okay, and then?”

“I’m telling you I actually like someone then you dismiss me.”

“And I mean that took you a record-breaking three years to say.” Minho points out, finally closing his phone and propping an elbow up on the table to face you properly. “What has you sharing this to us on this fine Saturday, hm? Did you get jealous over someone again and got so insecure that you realize your feelings? Did you get stuck in a really small space, admired his face a bit then realize that you think he’s cute? Which trope is it?”

You shake your head disapprovingly at him, briefly glaring at Seungmin and Jeongin when the two start snickering next to you before answering, “Nothing, just...we talked lately and I thought that I really like talking to him.”

“So you don’t like talking to us?” It’s Jeongin teasing you this time as he sipped on his juice box, earning him a crumpled ball of paper on the head. “I thought it’d be more grand like in those K-Dramas.”

“You flood your crush with Pepero boxes and now you’re talking big with K-Drama confessions.” Seungmin points out, making the other boy in question roll his eyes.

You open your mouth to speak but Jeongin beats you to it. “Talk to me when you’ve confessed to that figure skater at your university, baseball boy.” He says before turning to you again, placing a hand over Seungmin’s face and dramatically pushing him away by his head. “Anyway, back on topic! So, will you ask him out?”

“I don’t know, should I?” You frown, leaning back on the sofa behind you with your arms crossed. “Wouldn’t it be weird?”

Minho shakes his head. “It’s 2020 so go wild, my friend. Anyway, if it doesn’t work out I already got my driver’s license—though I will tax you since you live far away.”

You roll your eyes, hitting him again. When his roommate passes by, half-asleep and dragging their feet towards the kitchen, you hear them request another smack on Minho’s head on their behalf as if on instinct. “I mean, do you just go for it? What if you don’t feel enough for people for it to work out?”

A pause then follows in the room, even Minho’s roommate momentarily stopped gulping down water from across the open common area. Seungmin and Minho sigh while Jeongin only raises an eyebrow with the same curiosity.

“Yes, Y/N.” Minho answers after a moment, tsking at you as he does so. This time, you gather the energy to smack him for the fourth time as quickly. “It’s dating not marriage, just see what works and what doesn’t.”

Seungmin opens his mouth to say something else, probably to comment on how Minho doesn’t apply the sentiments to his own love life, but he nods in agrement anyway. “I think it’s like you always tell me: don’t overthink it.” He adds instead, briefly turning his head to Minho after. “But I’m going to pretend you didn’t bring it up first, hyung.”

Don’t overthink it. Even Jihyo and Mina agreed when they arrived, pestering you into going over your entire rant and dilemma again once they arrived with beer and convenience store food. Dahyun too, but only a little later when Jihyo puts her on FaceTime.

“Just wing it,” She even added to assure you, glitching a bit on video because public library wi-fi has never been better than that.. “it’s just Chan, what could go wrong?”

And really, with Chan, nothing ever does feels like it’s going to go wrong even when the situation has your heart on the line.

“Chan, give me your hand.” You extend your hand out to his side of the car with your palms facing upwards, chuckling when he glances over to you with wide eyes. “I won’t tickle you this time, promise.”

“So what are you going to do?” He asks as he reluctantly moves his hand from the steering wheel to your hand, alternating his gaze between the road and you on his side in long intervals. “I’ll have you know that we’re about to turn to a narrower road so don’t try anything funny.”

“Like I said, I’ll just hold your hand.” You feign a pout, bringing your hands down on the compartment in between your seats. “There.”

You won’t tell it to his face right now, of course, but holding his hand is comforting to you.

He invited you to a small film festival for today, a thirty-minute ride to a place he only heard of on the poster for it that he showed you at the start of the week. “Bam Bam’s too busy to come with so I thought I’d invite you since you’re free this week!” He explained over the phone and you knew Bam Bam is really busy when it’s you who Chan is inviting to these kinds of everyday. “They have lots of animated movies on the line-up too so I immediately thought of you!”

“Your hands are so small.” Chan comments after a moment, shaking your intertwined fingers gently as the car stops at traffic.

You poke on his knuckles in response. “You just have really big hands.”

“Your hands are clammy too.” He points out next with a laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Because you won’t turn the air conditioning up, dumbass.” You roll your eyes, scoffing when he doesn’t move his hand anyway. “So why don’t you let go?”

“Because I like holding your hand.” He shrugs, biting down a small smile. The traffic still won’t move and he takes this as an opportunity to look at you as much as he can. “I like you a lot—even with your clammy hands.”

“I—” You freeze with your mouth hanging open, finally catching onto his smile. “Ya, what’s with the smile? Did you...did Minho say something?”

“What? No. I can’t smile now?” And it’s the truth, you find out much later when Chan calls Minho for you and puts him on loud speaker to disprove your suspicions. “Why? What am I supposed to not know until now?”

You squint your eyes suspiciously at him, shifting your hands around his but to no avail. “That I—I was going to say it first today. I like you too—a lot.” You sigh in defeat, leaning back on your seat and twisting your body to face him properly. The traffic is slowly starting to move again and Chan briefly turns away to move the car, turning to you as soon as traffic permits him again. “It’s a bit embarrassing to say right now, my hands are so clammy and you’re holding onto them the entire time.”

“It’s not because you’re nervous, right?” He asks with the smallest glint of teasing in his eyes which you shake your head at immediately. “It’s just us.”

“I told you, it’s because the air conditioning’s too low.” You chuckle, finally relaxing your shoulders in relief. Chan then lifts your hands up to the air conditioning unit jokingly, turning up the level with his knuckles. “And it’s exactly why I’m not nervous, because it’s just us.”

“Me too, to be honest. I’d be freaking out right now if Minho or Lisa or just anyone else peered over our shoulders.” You hear him mumble under his breath in a sheepish giggle. A thought then crosses his mind as he glances over to you, the traffic now moving much more smoothly. “So, I can still ask you if this is a date, right? The cinema’s still five minutes away with this traffic.”

You pretend to purse your lips in thought, bringing your hands back down once they’ve dried with the sudden rise in temperature. “Isn’t this too last minute even for you?” You tease, making him frown. “Ah, well, better late than never I guess.”

“I’ll make it up to you on the second date, promise.” He assures you, turning right to your destination. “Jus don’t back out on this being a date now, okay?”

“Of course not.”

“So boring.” It’s Bam Bam teasing you this time, Minho agreeing on the side. The one time he’s actually free to hang out and he sasses you throughout the entire night. “I expected more from you two.”

“It’s...two people dating in college, not a romcom, Bam.” You deadpan before taking a sip of your soju.

He shrugs from across the table anyway, passing you another bottle. “I guess being in love makes you a little boring. I don’t blame you.”

You slap a hand up to your forehead while Chan is practically drunk and dying next to you in embarrassment. “Oh God...”

387 notes · View notes

prettyyyboyluke · 4 years ago

Note

Umm I was wondering if you could maybe do an imagine where cal is like her brothers bad boy friend and the reader is innocent ... or that's what everyone thinks...umm idk if you're taking requests but if you could do this I would really appreciate it🥺

y/n’s brother’s a sophomore in college, and once he graduated high school, he had moved out and gotten his own apartment. one with two bedrooms so she could have a place to stay when going to visit him. granted, he was only two hours away, but it was still nice since she didn’t have her parents helicoptering her. y/n was lucky to have a brother like tyler, the two were very close and were open about lots of things. so of course, he didn’t mind her and a few of her friends joining him and his friends for movie nights or small kickbacks.

that’s exactly what tonight was, a kickback. y/n was more than excited because tyler invites his best friend over each time, and he’s the hottest guy y/n’s ever seen, at least that’s what she thinks. curly black hair with blonde streaks, tall and muscular, tattoos dispersed all over his body, she practically drools every time she sees him. she thinks there are no flaws for him, except he’s that “i don’t date,” type of guy, which leaves lots of girls heartbroken.

y/n always arrives early to help tyler set up since he’s very unorganized and needs help setting out snacks for their friends. of course, y/n is on aux because she swears by her spotify being better than her brothers, but no one has ever complained about the music.

“god tyler, how did you ever survive your semesters without me here.” she laughs.

“oh, shut up. i’m perfectly fine, just not as organized as you.” he jabs back.

their friends pile into the apartment, chatting amongst themselves about their last week of school. y/n’s about to pour herself a drink when calum walks through the front door. she stares longingly, her eyes following up his body and his movements as he says hello to everyone there. her friend nova gives her a hard jab in her side, emphasizing the fact that she is practically drooling over the new quarter zip-up sweatshirt she just purchased. she straightens up, pushing out her chest. calum looks her way, smiling at her and making his way over.

“didn’t know tyler suddenly had a bad girl of a sister.” he smiles at her smugly, and if y/n didn’t know any better, she’d say he was speaking in a malicious tone, but she knows him better than that.

she rolls her eyes at him, “shut up!” she swats at his bicep. “tyler told you about my car, huh?”

“yeah,” he laughs, “said that your whole bumper came off. i’m surprised they let you out of the house tonight, you know since you’re a little girl.”

y/n’s cheeks start to heat up, her body temperature rising as their conversation continues. “i am not a little girl, calum. just because you’re a few years older than me doesn’t mean anything!” she crosses her arms, looking playfully furious and calum wants to run his thumb across the pout on her lips.

“sure, pretty girl.” he takes her drink and takes a sip. he hums at the liquor that hits his taste buds, “i’ll be taking this,” he says, shaking her drink in front of her eyes.

when he’s a few feet away, her friends chime in. “god, he’s so hot.”

“you just know he’s packing.”

“hey!” y/n screeches softly, “he’s mine! find your own college boy to drool over.”

she makes her self another drink, thanks to calum, and joins everyone by the couch. she walks around to the end of the couch where calum is sat at, ready to sit on the love seat next to nova, but calum catches her wrist and pulls her into his lap. her cheeks heat up, again, relieved when tyler is preoccupied with the game they’re about to play.

“what’re you doing?” she hisses into his ear. “my brother’s right there.”

“and? amaya is practically sitting on top of him.” he points to the two in the small chair. she shivers and shakes her head. “see? so it’s perfectly fine if we sit together.” he moves over a bit, giving her room to sit next to him but still somewhat on his thigh, and she looks at him while she positions herself. “everything alright here, pretty girl?”

“yup! yup, everything’s fine.” she looks at the way their legs are tangled together. she cracks her knuckles, trying to calm some of her nerves. calum slings an arm around her side of the couch, making her lean subconsciously into him. she knows what he’s doing... and she loves it.

they’re about two and a half rounds into picolo, their favorite drinking game. and everyone has a very nice buzz going on. they’re on the caliente version now, so this round should be spicy.

“alright, alright!” tyler laughs, “if calum and y/n kiss, each of you can give out 2 sips. if not, you each have to drink 2 times.” tyler finishes.

her eyes widen. she had no idea what tyler was thinking at this point, the alcohol in his system streaming through everything. nova gives her that look of well! get on with it! she turns to calum, “we don’t have to, we can just drink.” she says, reaching for her cup, but calum stops her.

calum doesn’t say anything but puts his hand on y/n’s cheek, bringing her closer in. her chest is heaving, eyes flickering between his lips and his eyes. he finally closes the gap between the two, lips connecting and light smacking happening.

“it’s about damn time!” luke exclaims. the rest of the group also cheers and laughs. the kiss definitely lasts longer than it’s supposed to, but neither her nor calum mind. calum pulls away but returns for one more peck.

y/n takes her bottom lip between her teeth, racking her brain at the fact that that just happened. calum then gives her temple a kiss and returns his attention back to the game. the game continues giving everyone dares like y/n’s and calum’s, some a little riskier than others, but no one seemed to mind.

“alright alright, how about we change the game to ‘never have i ever’?” ashton suggests. the group agrees. y/n gets up to go grab a bottle of hard liquor and the small shot glasses she bought. she thinks they’re cute, they’re not the red ones like the solo cups, they’re the neon-colored ones. calum follows her to the kitchen.

he wraps one hand around one side of her waist, pulling her close to his front side. she jumps the slightest bit when his hand goes under her sweatshirt and rests for a moment before giving it a squeeze. “how was that kiss?” he whispered in her ear.

she swallowed before answering, “i-i liked it.” she said, her voice very small.

calum turns her around, “i knew you would. you think i don’t notice how you look at me?” lord, y/n thinks she’s about to fucking pass out when he traces the outline of her running shorts.

they walk back, calum’s hand low on her back. as always, she sets everything up, being a little soberer than everyone else. this time, calum sets her right on top of his thigh. she lets a small gasp leave her lips when he moves his lap up for a second. calum sits up, wrapping an arm around her stomach, making her move yet again. the material of her shorts is very thin and with calum knowingly moving his thigh against her core, he could feel what he’s doing to her.

“okay, never have i ever been so crossed i threw up in the basement of the Alpha Phi house,” michael says, clearly taking a hit at someone. y/n sees calum reach for one of the neon cups and takes a shot.

“that was dirty, i’ll get you back.” calum snarls. y/n turns around to calum, raising her brow. “it was freshman year, and those girls have still never let me back in.”

“i’ll go!” nova shouts, “never have i ever had a crush on my brother’s best friend,” she says, looking right at y/n. y/n doesn’t want to reach for a shot and take it, but she also knows that if she doesn’t nova will call her bluff. despite fighting her conscience, she sucks it up and takes a shot. she gives nova daggers while she racks her brain to think of something to get her back.

the kickback ended around an hour ago, most of y/n and tyler’s friends had left, and calum had asked tyler if he could sleep on the couch. y/n was still awake, cleaning up everything so her brother wouldn’t have to deal with such a mess in the morning. calum’s been helping y/n clean up, mostly just so he can flirt with her more.

“you know, i never really got a proper kiss from you tonight.” calum says, taking a pile of trash into the bag. y/n stands up, looking at calum.

“what do you mean? we kissed during picolo, how was that not a proper kiss?” she asks, clearly not getting what he’s hinting at.

calum takes her wrist, bringing her over to the kitchen, and sets her on top of the counter. “a proper kiss doesn’t involve all of our friends staring at us and cheering. it’s more like this,” he stops his sentence and goes in for the kiss he’s been talking about.

y/n’s caught off guard for a moment before she relaxes into calum. their lips move rhythmically against each other, their tongues going to explore the mouth of the other. calum places a hand on her thigh while the other is holding her cheek. both of y/n’s arms are around calum’s shoulders, moving closer and making his hand move up higher on her thigh.

they both pull away for a second, calum looks down at where his hand is and looks back up at y/n. she nods her head and brings his lips back down to hers. calum’s fingers make their way into her shorts, just petting over her clit while y/n rotates her hips against his fingers.

“i think we should move to your room, just in case someone decides to come out.” calum whispers.

and y/n can’t wait to see where this takes her.

#yo i really like this #👀👀#i could continue this if y'all want #neyahood #calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood preference #calum hood #calum #ch #let's gossip !!

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herstroywritten · 4 years ago

Text

No, really. They’re just friends.

Ya, I have no excuse for this one either. But listen, I thought I got the Rivusa jitters out with that last fic and I most definitely lied to myself. I’m gonna be writing one of these a week at this point. Idk. Maybe I’ll take prompts. If this is how my brain has decided its going to deal with this obsession, I may as well share it. Enjoy this circus of angst and ~soft~ feelz, fellow clowns.

She felt it before she saw it.

It took all of her strength not to crumble to her knees and just throw up her dinner's contents onto the earth beneath her feet. She's not sure how long they had been fighting for, but she knows they've never gone for this long before. She can feel it in her organs and the thumping beat of her powers within her mind as she desperately tries to not let the agony of all the burned ones around them get to her. They're screeching and wailing in inhuman sounds as swords are buried within their bony chests and magic is aimed directly at their suffering bodies.

It's Musa's worst nightmare, standing here in the middle of a battlefield trying to direct everyone in the directions of the never-ending stream of monsters while wielding a small dagger tight enough that she swears her fingers have become one with the hilt of the weapon. She watches as another creature lunges for Terra who is currently preoccupied with the two burned ones in front of her, strangling them with vines and wrapping them in thorns. Before she really has any time to think about what she's about to do, she jumps the creature coming from behind, wraps her body around it as they both go tumbling to the ground and plunges the dagger in her hand into its back, piercing through the position where a heart once existed when the body this beast currently inhabits belonged to a human.

She's so caught up in the agony that radiates from the animal-like creature that she barely registers the tingle of rage and bloodlust the blooms in the back of her mind. When she finally forces her attention away from the burned one below her, that same feeling becomes much more prominent. She never gets the chance to warn the others, not before she hears Sky scream his name from across the field of burning bodies and barren wasteland.

"Riven!"

She whips around so fast that she loses her footing, falls flat on her face, and as she scrambles to get back up she realizes that the tingle of bloodlust she felt was so loud because the creature that was emitting it was right in front of her, charging at her full speed. She turned her gaze to the right of the field, watching as Sky ran past Bloom and Stella and Aisha screaming Riven's name in voice gone raw. She can't see where he's looking, where Riven is. All she can see is the burned one making its way to her and she remembers that she should do something but her brain has gone numb, finally giving up on her and it feels like her body is retreating onto itself as the noise around her slowly eats away at her soul.

She watches frozen in place as Riven comes up from behind her, pushes her to the side, and lets the creature run straight into him instead. It takes a swing at him, scrapes like wild at whatever part of his skin it can get its claws on. She watches in horror, hears a noise from outside her mind and for a second she thinks it’s the screech of another burned one lurching for her but then she feels her jaw stretch and her vocal cords strain against her throat and then it becomes so very clear that the noise she's hearing is her own scream sounding his name. And she's not sure if she imagines this last part, but there are waves of purple air passing through the space across the expanse of the field. A terrible blast sounds in the distance (or was it right next to her?), and her body finally gives in to exhaustion.

________________________________________________________________

She awakens with his name on her lips, dreams of his body curling onto the bloody grass beneath him fresh in her mind. As she moves her body into an upward position, she feels two pairs of steady arms on top of her, pushing her down onto the bed once more. She's struggling to open her eyes as there are bright lights above her and her neck feels too tight to twist in any other direction. When she finally manages, she finds Aisha and Bloom at her sides. Their eyes are filled with worry, as they exchange glances between the two of them.

"Do you think she'll pass out again?" Hearing Aisha's calm voice puts Musa in a better mood, reminds her that things can't be too bad if her suitemate is speaking in such a collected tone.

"I don’t know. She's woken up three other times before and then just knocked out right after. And she's been screaming for at least an hour now…" Bloom's reply takes her by surprise. She wants to tell them she's fine, they can stop worrying about her. She can feel their anxiety heighten by the second and her mind is too numb to try to block out their feelings, so instead she's bombarded with them in neverending waves. Her throat feels like sandpaper as she tries to speak, so she goes for a moan instead. Aisha and Bloom's heads snap away from each other and down at her form as soon as they register the sound.

"Musa? Can you hear me?" She turns to Aisha as much as she can in her state and shoots her a small smile.

"Yeah…" her voice dies as she attempts to speak again.

"Oh! Let me get you some water!" Bloom's sprints out of the room (her and Terra's bedroom she realizes now as she watches the plants that Terra so delicately hung from the ceiling sway in the silent motion of the air around them). Aisha stands by her side and grabs her hand. Musa can't really see her face from this position, but she can feel the relief and joy rolling off her suitemate. She tries to get up again, and Aisha is at her side in seconds, pushing pillows up above the headboard and trying to make the awkward position as comfortable as possible.

Bloom returns with the water and some hot tea, and she drinks both glasses without complaining about the fact that it's not the tea Terra usually prepares for them in the morning. She's just grateful to be able to feel her vocal chords functioning once again.

"Wow, you must have been so thirsty," Bloom chuckles as Musa drowns the last of her piping hot tea.

"You have no idea," she manages to finally croak out some words. "How long have I been out?"

"A day, give or take," replies Aisha.

"A whole day! Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Umm, we tried… but you were going through a bit of a magic stress-induced coma."

"A what?"

"Magic stress-induced coma, or at least that's what Dowling explained it to us as. You overexerted your powers to their breaking point and your body and needed time to rejuvenate itself," Aisha explained.

"Kinda like what happened to me last semester…" Bloom's voice grew thinner and thinner as she finished that line. Musa turned to look at her redhead suitemate, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"But that happened when you got your wings… and I didn't even do anything out of the ordinary…" Bloom and Aisha exchanged looks at her comment, and she practically shivers at the intense emotions of caution and anxiety that her mind picks up.

"At least, I don’t think I did," she narrows her eyes at the two girls in front of her. "There's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

There's an awkward silence as she watches Bloom and Aisha communicate through their eyes, as if deciding whether to tell her or not and how.

It's Bloom who finally speaks up. "Something did happen. A lot happened, actually. We're not sure how exactly, none of us were really paying attention because we were busy dealing with the burned ones. Sky probably saw the most out of all of us. He says he saw a burned one coming for you, and he tried to call your name but you didn’t hear. And then he saw Riven running toward you, but he realized too late that Riven wasn't holding his swords and that the monster was getting too close too fast for him to do anything but block the attack. Sky started running after Riven, but it was too late-"

"What do you mean, it was too late?" Musa's voice rises in pitch, her nerves fray at the edges as the nightmare she'd been having came to reality.

"It tore into Riven's skin. Deep." Aisha continues the story, and before Musa could open her mouth to ask something else, Aisha was talking again. "That's not the whole of it." That’s not the whole of it? What else could there be? Where was this going? Come to think of it, why did she remember none of it?

"As soon as Riven's body landed on the ground, there was a bright light and a sound that surprised us all. This is the part that we all remember… the sound was coming from you Musa. You were glowing, and the earth was shaking at the force of whatever noise was coming through. We couldn't see you for a few seconds, just a lot of light. I remember the burned one I was dealing with a the time fell backward on itself and, and… I don’t know, it, like, disintegrated. Without a sword through its chest or any outward magic. All of them just fell to the ground in pieces." By this point, Musa's mind is reeling. How was that possible? And why did any of it matter? Where was Riven? Where were Terra and Stella? Sky?

"I got to you first," continues Bloom. "You were in the air, and you had wings behind your back Musa. You got your wings."

"What?!"

"I know, I know. It's insane, but I swear you had them, and then when I finally got close enough to you to touch you, you were falling. The wings had run their course and your energy was basically drained. I managed to fly you back down to the ground but you were already passed out at that point."

Musa doesn't exactly know how to process all this information, but she doesn't give herself too much time to dwell on it. There are other problems at hand. "Where are Stella and Terra?"

"Terra is in the infirmary, helping her dad with some of the wounded. Stella broke a rib and sprained her ankle during the battle, so she's in the infirmary too but Harvey said she should be ok. We've been taking turns visiting her, making sure she doesn't somehow try to sneak out. She's been asking about you. Bloom was just there with her, and she left Sky on Stella duty. Honestly, that girl has all of Alfea watching her and making sure she doesn't do something stupid. Future queen and all-" Aisha's rambling. Her words are picking up pace, and even if Musa wasn't an empath, she would have been able to notice the unease in her emotions and the perturbation behind her attitude.

"And Riven? Where's Riven?" God, please let him be okay. That stupid, stubborn specialist who insisted that he train her when Dowling had asked Silva for a personal trainer for Musa a few weeks ago, right after they had managed to push Rosalind out of the school.

Her breathing picks up as she watches Bloom watch Aisha, who's now looking at the wall in front of her and frowning.

"Oh for god's sake, just spit it out! You're killing me."

It seems Bloom has finally worked up the nerve, as she catches Musa's eye and states in a quiet voice, "He's also in the infirmary. But, it's not good, Musa. The burned one that attacked him is gone, but it got him right in his heart. The poison already made contact. Professor Harvey is trying his best, and Dowling tried some magic healing too, but it's just not… it's not working. He's going into some sort of surgery right now. Harvey is going to try to kill the poison from the inside out."

Musa's world is spinning, and she feels her breathing quicken. Damn him, she thinks. Damn Riven and his stupid need to jump right into danger. She's furious at him for doing it, for jumping in front of her when that blow was so very clearly meant for her to take. Perhaps she would have been able to handle it better, she had magic and could likely recover faster. It should have been her on the surgery table right now.

"Musa, I'm sorry. We don't really know what's going on between you guys and we didn't want to say the wrong thing, so we haven't asked. But we're here if you want to talk, and we want you to know-"

Musa cuts Bloom off, "I want to go see him." Bloom and Aisha exchange another look, and Musa thinks she might actually lose her mind if they keep doing that.

"Stop that. Stop looking at each other like that, and stop looking at me like I'm a pity party you decided to attend. And for the love of God, stop talking as if he's going to die."

"Musa-" Aisha never gets the chance to speak.

"I want to see him."

"I don't think-"

"You're either going to help me get off this bed and to the infirmary, or you're going to watch me crawl my way there. Your choice." Musa narrows her eyes at the two girls, waiting to hear the answer she knows they'll pick. If there's one thing this semester has taught her, it's that she would do anything for these girls, and they would do anything for her. It's become an unspoken rule amongst the suite: One of them makes a dumb choice, they all make a dumb choice. Bloom wanted to go follow voices in the night, they all followed noises until the sun came up. Stella wanted to sneak out to spy on her mother in an effort to find the hidden secrets of Solaria, they were all ready to sneak into the royal palace and play dirty. Terra wanted to sneak in secret potions from her cousin into the school so that they can bring back Headmistress Dowling, they all offered to hide random potions in their sock drawers, in their purses, under their beds, between the cracks of their wooden floorboards. Aisha wanted to sneak into the East Wing to find the war room Bloom had stumbled upon last semester so that she could compare documents and find information while Rosalind's guards stood watch just meters away, the rest of the girls created a distraction. In other words, if one falls, they all fall.

And Musa had never asked for them to fall with her, had never wanted them to sink with her. Not when they begged her to let them follow her on her nightly walks after Sam and her had broken up. Not when the anniversary of her mother's death creeped up on her during Rosalind's reign of terror, and they asked if she wanted them to sneak her out and back home so that she could visit the grave. She'd never asked because honestly, she felt that if they were going to get caught doing anything, it should be something that was going to make the world better, not something that included her unresolved past traumas. But, fuck it, she was asking now. And she knew they would not say no.

"Musa, he's in surgery. Harvey is about to cut his chest open, I don’t think you want to see that." Aisha's words are gentle, carrying with them waves of concern and protectiveness. Musa knows that her suitemates are just trying to make sure she makes it out of this somewhat unscathed, but she also knows that Riven has already left his marks and scars all over her body. They may be trying to heal those same scars before they become too fully bleeding gashes, but she's trying to make sure they stay there, that he stays with her. That's the only way she's coming out of this without any wounds.

"I know. And I'm going to be there when they do it. I'm going to take his pain. He took that blow for me. It was mine to begin with. It's only fair."

"Musa-"

"They can't use painkillers on him. I know they can't. Harvey couldn’t use them on Sam when he was wounded at the end of last semester. The other mind fairies are not as advanced as I am, I've been practicing with Dowling since she got back. He needs me. And I need to do this. Please, let me."

It doesn't take too much to break them down. "Alright," sighs Aisha.

________________________________________________________________

Sky refuses to let her into the room.

Apparently, Stella was not the only thing he was on the lookout for. Silva and Dowling had positioned him outside the surgery door of the infirmary, telling him to make sure he let no one in until Harvey said so. When Musa had entered through the doors, holding on to Aisha and Bloom as she stepped her way through the room with as much grace as she could muster in her condition, Stella had called her name from her bed of bandages causing Sky to leave his post and run to help the two girls struggling to hold her weight beneath them. Terra, who had been across the room tending to a wounded soldier with Sam, left her brother to finish stitching up the cut and made her way to Musa.

"I need to get into the surgery room," she'd said before Sky and Terra got the chance to ask her how she was. And then Sky began his speech about how he couldn't let her in, and about how it wasn't something she would want to see and honestly, she wished she was able to control minds at this moment instead of just emotions.

In the end, it’s Stella who says, "Oh, for God's sake. If she wants to do it, let her. She'll get in there one way or another, the least we can do is make sure she doesn’t try to climb the window and break a leg or something." Her voice lilts in a sarcastic manner, but her eyes are steady as she catches Musa's eye and nods her head toward the surgery door at the end of the room. Musa steps away from Sky and the girls, stumbling her way toward that same door, and this time, Sky didn't try to stop her.

She cracks the door open, and finds Harvey holding a sterile knife to an unconscious Riven's chest as he lays on a cold, gray bed table. She made it right before the first cut.

"Stop!"

Harvey turns to her, surprised to find her up and about. "Musa, you shouldn't-"

"I'm going to take his pain." It's a statement that leaves no room for arguments. Maybe Professor Harvey realizes he needs to move quick before the specialist on the table takes a turn for the worst or maybe he's just finally stopped trying to pretend like he can control what hormonal and impulsive teenagers do, but he doesn't bother to try his hand at convincing her that this is maybe not the best idea when she herself is worn out. He just nods his head and lets her take Riven's hand.

And then she forces herself to watch as the knife cuts into his skin, below the black and red wound that adorns his chest. She doesn't flinch when his breath hitches in his sleep and she feels white, blinding pain fill her mind. She doesn’t back away as his body begins to shiver and her legs shake along with him. She simply locks her arms across his shoulders to stop his body from moving and let Professor Harvey finish what he started, lowering her head to the crook of his neck, lips brushing his ear. "Don’t you dare," she whispered, furious tears streaming down her face and onto his neck as her body takes the brunt of his pain. "Don’t you dare die in my arms."

She takes his pain even after Harvey is finished and Riven's chest is stitched back up, partially because she doesn't want him to suffer and partially because his pain has become so engrained in her mind that she can't seem to let him go. Before the professor leaves, he drags a chair to the bedside and pushes her onto it, her body still curled onto the boy on the surgery bed.

"Sit."

So she sits, and she cries, and she breathes in his scent, and she intertwines the fingers of her right hand with his, her left hand finding its way to his hair. She rubs circles into his palm, and plays with the tendrils of his hair as she watches his face and cries.

_______________________________________________________________

Six hours later, her cries have become hiccups and his eyes are fluttering open.

"Hello, gorgeous," he whispers, his green eyes focusing on her brown ones in the light of the rising moon through the windows of the cramped surgery room. She's relieved to see his usual smirk find its way onto his face.

She chokes on her laugh, and fresh tears start streaming down her face, these ones more happy than the last. "Hi," she whispers back.

They don't say anything else that night, both too tired and too elated to not be dead. And, perhaps, too scared to say what they both probably already know. So she sits next to him with her hands still all over him, and he watches her eyes until they close and she falls asleep beside him.

________________________________________________________________

He spends three weeks in the infirmary.

They situate him next to Stella, and the two of them spend the days and nights bickering humorously back and forth. He uses her title as an insult because he knows it gets under her skin and he might as well take advantage of the fact that she's bedridden and her powers are still weak so she can't blind him for the comments with either magic or her two bare hands. She digs into him about Musa, because she can and she wants to make sure that her friend isn't going to come out of whatever this is with a broken heart. And also, she's just nosy and wants to give her other suitemates some details when she finally gets out of the health wing. Too bad for her though, because Riven stands firm on the hill that they're "friends," a term Stella's never heard him use before and briefly debates if that's his equivalent for "girlfriend".

Sky and the girls visit every day before and after classes. They make sure Riven and Stella never eat breakfast, lunch, or dinner alone. They keep them up to date on the latest gossip. Terra and Bloom bring a bunch of bord games for them to play, and it’s the weirdest and most comforted Riven has ever felt. Sky even sneaks in his vape, which Harvey finds and immediately takes away, stating that he can't have substances in his system until he is fully healed.

But Musa, Musa never leaves. Not even when Stella leaves the infirmary and it's just Riven in there. Her friends have to force her out the door and to class in the morning, and to her bed when it reaches nighttime. She brings her headphones with her every day, crawls into his bed without asking, and slips one of the earbuds into his ear. They sit there and listen to music and just talk. He teases her about the songs he thinks are sappy, she dares him to keep making fun of her music taste so that she can push him off the bed.

"In my fragile state?! You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

"Oh, I want to. Believe me, I want to." And she blushes and ducks her head below the hollow of his collarbone.

One night, when the girls come to pick up Musa and take her back to her room at midnight, as has become their nightly duty now, they find the couple snuggled into one another, headphone strings tangled between them. They can't bring themselves to tear the two apart, so after Bloom snaps a picture of them huddled up, they leave.

"Am I not catching something here, or are they still not a thing?" Terra asks as they exist the room, ever the confused one when it comes to these situations.

"As far as I know, they're still just friends and he's still an idiot, according to Musa."

Stella rolls her eyes at Aisha's response. "Yeah, sure. They're just friends, and Sky and Bloom are just acquaintances who casually make out in their free time."

________________________________________________________________

It's been two days since Riven was released from bedrest, and the whole gang is huddled around a picnic blanket between two trees on the far side of campus. It was Bloom's idea to have a "we made it to the end of the school year alive and in one piece!" picnic.

Sky and Bloom are sitting next to one of the trees that they've situated the large checkered blanket under. She's leaning against the tree, and he's laying down with his head on her lap. He laughs at her as she tells the story of her first picnic, his blue eyes following her every movement.

The rest of them are situated around the other edges of the blanket, listening to the story and laughing along.

"Ducks?!" exclaims Stella. "You were chased by ducks?!"

"Dude, don't laugh! Those things are scary! And when they're angry, they flap their wings at you-"

"Ah, yes," Musa jokes form her position next to Riven and against the other tree. "The wings are what really raise the fear level when it comes to ducks." She pops the last of her grapes into her mouth, and Riven watches her as she casually leans forward to grab some off his plate.

"Hey! Hands off, pixie. You have your own plate." She grabs the grapes anyway before getting back into sitting position.

"Ok, first off, it's fairy. Not pixie-"

"Not with your height, it's not." She punches his arm for that comment, the same arm she was practically sprawled over when he'd been dying on the surgery table, and he has to physically stop himself from shivering at her touch.

"Second, I'll trade you for the grapes."

"You don’t have anything I want, " he grumbles as he pushes her hand away from his biceps, only to have her slide her fingers between his and use him as leverage to pull herself closer to him. She's practically sitting on his lap when she leans in to his face, forgetting that there are others around them, eyes boring into his and whispers, "Are you sure about that?" No, he's most definitely not sure about it. And she knows it, so he just grumbles something about how he doesn’t really like grapes anyway and hands her his whole plate.

And if the rest notice that Musa never leaves Riven's lap, they don't mention it. The gang spends the better part of the afternoon sprawled out on that blanket and Musa and Riven spend it basically on top of each other. They're practically inches away from each other's faces each time he turns to make a stupid comment about the stories that are being told and they just get closer and closer each time she turns to chastise him about it.

And if the rest of the girls or Sky notice Riven's hand on Musa's hip as she leans into him, her left hand instinctively resting on the nape of his neck and twirling the ends of his hair between her fingers (a force of habit now), or the way his eyes follow her as she leans forward to shuffle the deck of Uno cards in the center of their little circle, or the undeniable heart eyes they throw at each other when they think no one else is staring… well, no one mentions that either. But the smirk Stella aims at the other girls and the eyebrow that she raises in their direction basically screams, "Yeah, right. Just friends."

________________________________________________________________

It's been one week since Riven was released from bedrest, and he's still not allowed anywhere near the training grounds for fear that his injury needs a little more time to recover. He showed up to combat class anyway, hoping Silva wouldn't notice or just wouldn't care. Silva did notice, and he immediately forced Riven off the training mats and on the benches. So that's how Riven ends up sitting on the sidelines, watching Musa spar with Tames, a third year specialist whose eyes linger a tad bit too long on Musa's legs as she twirls around and aims a high kick right at his chest, knocking him to the ground. Riven has to remind himself multiple times that Tames is nice guy, decent guy. He doesn't deserve a black eye. It's not his fault the Musa just so happens to have a great pair of legs and knows how to use them. A thought that then brings about an onslaught of fantasies to Riven's mind. And with those fantasies comes to mind another fact, that Riven should not feel so protective over a girl that's obviously not his girlfriend… Right?

By the halfway mark of the training session, he's pissed and has already considered sneaking off to the back of the school and smoking a joint or two. Maybe go for a walk, punch a wall, kick a tree. Whatever the hell. He'll do anything else than just sit here and watch Musa pin Tames to the ground with her legs and chest all over him one more time.

He's so frustrated that he doesn’t even notice as Musa leaves the mat mid-session and sprints to him, grabbing her duffel bag on the way.

"Wait up!" He slows down but doesn't stop walking. When she finally catches up to him, they're behind the school and he makes his way to one of the many pillars that surround the walls of the castle. As he leans against it and pulls out a joint, she reaches upward and grabs it from his hands before it reaches his lips. He feels the tips of her fingers brush against his mouth instead and wonders how the hell that gets him higher than any drug he's ever tried.

"You're not supposed to be smoking, " she states matter-of-factly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"And you're not supposed to be here. Seems like we've both some decisions." What he wants to say is, "Stay. Don’t go back to that training mat. Stay here with me instead."

She sighs. "Riven, Harvey made it very clear that you have to hold off on the smoking until he's sure your body is fully recovered."

"Not this again," he groans. "Don't tell me you're also going to make me sit on a bench and watch as Tames basically undresses you with his eyes-"

"What are you on about?" She's looking at him as though he's grown a second head.

"Oh, please. You can't tell me you haven’t noticed his eyes all over you in the past hour. It's honestly getting to be a little bit creepy." Her eyes flicker to his and she holds his gaze, a look of amusement on her face.

"Oh, and when you do it, it's not creepy?"

"At least I don't try to hide it." Her brown eyes gleam up at him as she presses herself and those heavenly legs against his form, perching herself on her tippy toes so that they're almost at eye-level.

"Clearly not. I mean, I guess Tames could have been staring occasionally, but Riven, your eyes didn't wander off of me once during that training session." He nearly chokes on his own spit as she smirks up at him. He'd really thought she hadn't noticed.

"I wasn't-"

"You were. That's ok, I do it too." The air around them suddenly feels heavier, and he watches as she pulls her eyes to his mouth, licks her lips with the tip of her tongue. He wants to kiss her, to test just how willing she is to practice all the things she's been implying for the past few weeks.

"Oi! Riven! Musa! Combat class is on the other side of campus!" It's Silva and he's clearly not amused at their run away from class. Riven questions for a hot second how bad it would be for him if he murdered a professor in cold blood, but then Musa's eyes give him a sultry little look as she presses herself just a little closer to him before pulling apart and turning to the combat professor.

"Sorry, Professor Silva. I forgot my duffel bag at the stone circle and Riven was just helping me grab it." Her words are smooth as honey and nonchalant, acting as if their teacher hadn’t just caught them in a very awkward position at a very awkward time.

"Uh huh. I'm sure he was. Get back on the mat, Musa." And then she just walks her way back to the grounds without even giving him a second look. But he watches her as she practically saunters her way back to Tames and he swears her hips have an extra sway to them.

"Damn it," he thinks. She's right, he does watch her every move.

________________________________________________________________

It's been three weeks since Riven was released from bedrest, which means it's been about a month of innuendos, not-so innocent touches, and downright dirty looks. At this point, the sexual tension has gotten to everyone around Riven and Musa. Bets have been placed on when the inevitable will happen and the Winx girls have become more invested in this particular progression of events than any of their coursework. Even Aisha stops stressing over exam season and joins in on the speculation.

So when it finally happens, Terra doesn't even blink when she walks to her room on a Sunday afternoon after a long day at the greenhouse, only to hear some very specific sounds coming from the other side of the door. She turns right back around and into the living room before the moans start.

She finds Stella on the couch filing her nails and Bloom sitting across from her flipping through a magazine lazily.

"Stella, I owe you 20."

#rivusa #fate the winx saga #musa #musa fate #riven #riven fate

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bibliosophist · 4 years ago

Text

Soft as Bread, Sweet as Honey, Chapter... Idk, 4?

Hi folx! I guess there is more to this story. I’m working on what will be chapter 4 on here, and chapter 2 on AO3. You can read it below the break if you want to, or you can hop on over there and just read the whole thing properly. Beelzebub x Female Reader

Cooking duty is one of the chores at the House of Lamentation that you mind the least. You’ll certainly take it over cleaning the common room. It never ceases to amaze you how much of a mess fully grown men- demons- whatever- can make. Like all chores in the house, everyone takes turns cooking. Unlike other chores, people usually double up on cooking duty on account of there being so many mouths to feed-- especially when one of those mouths belongs to Beelzebub. Your cooking partner this semester is Levi, and though he does more talking than cooking, you’re generally fine with that. His constant stream of anime and game related chatter puts you at ease as you cook.

It had taken some time for you to get familiar with some of the more exotic Devildom ingredients, but you had found many that bore a close resemblance to food you were familiar with from the human world, and whatever you were unfamiliar with you were pretty good at researching on your DDD. You’d found a few Devildom dishes that you were comfortable cooking, but most often you ended up making food inspired by things you’d loved eating in the human world. Tonight you have decided to make okonomiyaki, a personal favourite. It would be easy enough to prepare a large quantity of, and allowed for enough customization of toppings that everyone would end up happy. Plus, you figured, Levi probably wouldn’t mind actually helping-- his fondness for everything Japanese outweighing his innate laziness.

When you enter the spacious kitchen, Levi is nowhere in sight. No matter, you think. You’ll start without him. You busy yourself washing vegetables and preparing a large pan of Covetous Cod fillets to bake. The mild fish, you think, will pair well with the tangy sauce.

You’ve almost finished peeling a pile of yams when you hear a voice behind you.

“Uh, hi.”

That is most certainly not Levi’s voice. Slowly you turn around, meeting Beel’s eyes from where he stands, large frame taking up most of the doorway.

“Hi,” you say back, your stomach fluttering.

This is the first time you’ve been alone together since the incident in the alleyway a few days ago. Between your project with Sibyl and his brothers’ constant presence, you haven’t been able to say two words to each other in private, and thanks to another one of Mammon’s pranks backfiring, the brothers’ texting privileges have once again been temporarily revoked. You briefly considered texting him anyway, but shuddered at the thought of Lucifer finding out and reading your messages. Though you haven’t had any alone time, it hasn’t stopped him from holding your hand under the table when nobody's looking, or smiling at you in the halls.

“Sorry I’m a little late.” A rosy tinge crept into his cheeks. “I got Levi to switch with me, but, uh, I got hungry on the way home and stopped for a few doughnuts.”

You can feel a grin spreading over your face. “You got Levi to switch. How did you manage that?”

“It wasn’t hard. He doesn’t like making anything more complicated than instant noodles.”

You laugh, running the peeler over the yam you’re holding. “So I’ve come to realize. But why did you ask him in the first place? Isn’t this just more work for you? Are you that tired of Ruri-chan Ramen?”

“Instant ramen is good, but I like variety in my meals. I get a little bit bored with just one flavor. Not,” he says, panic on his face, “that your cooking is boring. I like your cooking very much...” he trails off, cheeks on fire.

Your grin widens and you turn back to your task, beginning to grate the yam into fine strips. “I agree. It’s better when there are different, complimenting flavours.” If he doesn’t have a problem with your cooking, could he have come here just to see you? Your heart beats a little bit faster.

“Are you okay with my plan of making okonomiyaki? It’s a human world dish, but it’s really versatile. I think it will work well with the ingredients we have here.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve had that before when I visited up there,” he says, pointing at the ceiling.

“Is it really “up” from here? Like, if I sprouted wings and flew straight up, would I get to the human world eventually?”

“I’m not sure,” he laughs, “I don’t know if anyone has ever tried getting there without using a portal.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” you say, gathering the grated yam into a bowl and beginning to thinly slice cabbage. “The cod is already baking. It should be done in a few minutes. Do you want to start on the batter for the pancakes?”

He nods, coming to stand beside you at the counter. “I can do that. Can you tell me how?”

“I actually wrote the instructions out over here,” you say, gesturing to a piece of paper.

“So...” you trail off, keenly aware of how close he’s standing to you. “What kinds of things do you like cooking?”

“Oh, um. I don’t think anybody has ever asked me that before. Usually they only ask me what I want to eat,” he says. When you glance over at him, he’s got a finger in his mouth. You suspect he’s just dipped it in the flour. You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips again, or the memory of how his skin tasted. Thankfully you don’t think he’s noticed you peering at him, because he keeps talking. “I guess I like grilling best. It’s pretty quick, and you get to watch the whole thing. It’s not like baking. That’s frustrating.”

“I don’t have the patience for baking either,” you say, resting your hip against the island as you watch Beel begin to crack eggs into his bowl. “One wrong measurement and the whole thing is ruined. Oh, hang on, you’ve got an eggshell in your batter.” You reach over, plucking the tiny fragment of shell out and wiping it on a teatowel.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s completely fine, it happens. That looks good, now just stir it all together.”

“Is it supposed to be kind of... runny?”

“Sure,” you say, carrying over the bowls of vegetables, “if it’s too thick, it won’t cook through properly. Here,” you reach into the bowl, transferring handfuls of cabbage and yam into the batter. “Make sure the vegetables get well coated. I’m going to take the fish out.”

“Thank you for letting me help,” he says.

“What do you mean?” you ask, sliding protective mitts over your hands before opening the oven. It smells incredible, and your stomach rumbles. Normally you’d cut off a big chunk and snack on it while you finished cooking-- Levi had usually wandered off by this point in the process-- but you’re acutely aware that it’s not Levi standing behind you.

“Well, usually my cooking partner is Lucifer. He likes things the way he likes them. And...” he trails off, bringing the batter over to the stove. He looks a little dazed, eyes locked on the pan of cod. “That smells incredible.”

“Thanks. I hope it tastes as good as it smells. Wait- no!” Your warning comes too late, he’s already reached out to pinch off a corner of the flakey flesh. He hisses in pain, pulling his fingers back, shaking them vigorously.

“That’s another reason he doesn’t like me in the kitchen with him,” he says bashfully.

“Come here,” you say, taking his other hand and leading him across the room to the faucet. You turn the cold tap on and test it with your own hand before taking his injured one and running it under the chilly water. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he mumbles, cheeks pinker than his fingers. “I have a hard time controlling myself. It’s like I know better, but I forget when there’s food around.”

You chuckle, rotating his hand under the stream. “I get that. Normally I snack while I cook. I don’t like waiting either. Then I end up eating way more than I should.”

He nods along with your words. “I do the same thing. There’s this one soup that Belphie really loves, but every time I try to make it for him, I end up eating it all before it’s ready and have to start all over again.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you say, turning the tap off. You gently dab his hand dry with a clean teatowel. “I’m going to go get the first aid kit from my bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“No, wait,” he says, catching your arm as you turn away from him. “Stay here with me.”

“But your fingers-”

“Already feel much better,” he says, drawing you back to him. Now his eyes are glazed with something other than hunger. He cuts off your protest with a kiss. His lips are so soft and warm; you melt right into him. When your lips move against his he scoops you up in his arms, sitting you on the counter, bringing your face level with his. “I missed you,” he whispers, pulling back to kiss your nose.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back, resting one leg on either side of his hips. You wrap your arms around his neck and your mouth back to his. His hands find your waist and he holds you tight as your tongues explore each other’s mouths. You hadn’t realized how badly you’d wanted to touch him these past few days, and now that you are you can’t get enough. Your hands find their way under the collar of his jacket, fingers running over his broad shoulders. You’re in the process of sliding his jacket down his arms when a familiar voice cuts through your haze.

“- getting hungry, do you need any help in- oh.” Breaking apart, you look to the source of the interruption to find Satan standing in the doorway, one hand on his hip and a smirk on his face. “So dinner will be quite late, then.” he says.

“Beel burned his finger,” you blurt.

“Uh-huh,” Satan nods. “And to sooth it he had to stick his tongue down your thro-”

“Get out,” Beel yells, seizing a nearby piece of fruit and throwing it in his brother’s general direction.

Satan steps to the side, smoothly avoiding it. He chuckles. “I’ll tell the others dinner will be a bit late.”

Face absolutely on fire, you hop off of the counter and cross back to the stove. “I’ll just heat up some oil,” you say.

Beel follows after a moment, resting his hands on your hips as you begin cooking the pancakes. “Can we finish that kiss after dinner?” he asks

It takes all your willpower to continue spooning batter in the pan. You don’t trust your voice, so you just nod.

#Obey Me #Shall We Date: Obey Me #om! beel #om! beelzebub

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jungshookz · 5 years ago

Note

i just saw this on tiktok & idk if it’ll make sense when i explain it but,, imagine y/n finally gets the balls to confess to someone (i was thinking yoongi but anyone else would still be cool) & does it but he has his headphones in,, the thing is he actually isnt listening to anything but he pretends that he didn’t hear her (bc he’s vv silly) and she’s just like “nvm” and then without blinking he goes “oh... well i like u too btw” & then BOOM they get married

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; unsurprisingly this is a university!au, fluff!!!!!!, friends to lovers duH

➺ wordcount: 3.3k

➺ what to expect; “i like-you like you… romantic… style… you know?”

➺ note; for the first time ever i have nothing to say but happy reading!!!! y/n’s awkward and yoongi likes to bully her whaT’s new

(original gif source unknown :-( but i found it off here!!)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

okay

you know what

this is going to be great

this is going to go super well

you know why?

because you practiced this like, at least a hundred times over the past month!

you know what you’re talking about

you know exactly what to say and how to say it

(you might’ve written a script for yourself just to be safe)

((it’s scrunched up at the bottom of your bag))

“nothing to be nervous about…” you mumble to yourself as you fix your hair in the mirror

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before promptly untucking it

…and then tucking it again

maybe you should do hair tucked behind your right ear but untucked on the left ear

or does that look weird??

how about if you pull your hair up into a bun?

…

well now you just look like a freshly boiled egg, so that’s certainly not going to work.

“i’m not nervous. not at all.” you mutter, turning side to side to make sure that all angles of your face look somewhat decent

the other day yoongi pointed out some unblended concealer on your jaw so now you’ve been beating your face twice as hard every morning to make sure that everything is blended to perfection

speaking of yoongi

he’s actually the reason why you’re talking to yourself in the bathroom like a crazy person

…you like him.

well, you’re pretty sure you like him…

you pause for a split second before shaking your head

no, yeah.

you definitely like him.

the two of you have known each other for about a year now?

the story of how your friendship started isn’t all that exciting, now that you think about it

you were both in the same psychology class and he was late on the very first day and the only empty seat that was closest to the door was one that was next to you

you were hoping to make a new friend this semester but yoongi definitely wasn’t the kind of friend you had in mind

you were hoping for someone bright and chipper anD it wouldn’t hurt if they just so happened to be very intelligent and helpful when it came to coursework

“sorry.” the latecomer mumbles when his foot accidentally nudges against your backpack on the floor

“all good.” you smile politely and lean down to push it under your legs

you let out a breath before bringing your attention back to the prof

“-now, i know that not everyone likes doing this, but it is the first day of class, so how about some icebreakers?”

you resist the urge to let out a groan of protest upon the mention of icebreakers

gOD

seriously?!?!

icebreakers???

you guys have to do icebreakers??

how old do these professors think you are??

you hate icebreakers

they’re the absolute worst!

especially the ones where you have to tell people three things about yourself or three hobbies you have

because you can never come up with interesting factoids about yourself when you’re put on the spot like that

you remember last semester one of the icebreakers for your english class was two truths and a lie and to make matters worse it wasn’t like a ‘turn to the person sitting next to you’ exercise, it was a ‘everyone’s going to go around the room and share with the entire class’ exercise

and when it was your turn, the only thing you could come up with was: “i… am a human being. i… have teeth. and i… like… cilantro…?”

…

what the hell was that?

you clear your throat quietly when everyone looks at you like you’re insane

well, you technically followed the rules of the game

you aRE a human being

you DO indeed have chompers

and you hate cilantro!

but uh

out of all the things you could’ve said, those three were admittedly a little odd

“is the lie that you’re a human being? because you’re acting like an alien trying to fit in with us humans, my friend!” the girl sitting next to you (you later find out that her name is judy and you’d just like to say that you nevER liked her because she was one of those overly ‘i’m just happy to be here!!’ people that made you want to slam your face into a wall) nudges your side and you resist the urge to slap her hand away

the class immediately bursts into scattered laughter and you flash your prof a sheepish smile

so yeah

icebreakers have never been your forte and you don’t think they ever will be

“turn to the person next to you and… god, i don’t know…”

see??

even the prof seems reluctant to do this so wHY is he forcing everyone to do this????

“okay, how about this! tell them what you ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner yesterday. you can tell a lot about a person by what they eat in their every day lives. there we go.”

you press your lips together as you awkwardly manoeuvre yourself so that you’re facing the left

you force a smile onto your face when the stranger turns to face you as well

“do you wanna-”

“so like-”

the both of you speak at the same time and you immediately clamp up

well, this is just wonderful, isn’t it?

two seconds in and you already want to hurl yourself into the middle of a busy intersection

“oh, um, i’m y/n, by the way.” you lean in a little in case he can’t hear you

“cool, nice to meet you.” he nods as his fingers drum against his kneecap, “i’m yoongi.”

“oh, cool. yeah, nice to meet you too. yeah…”

“yeah…”

oh dear god

this entire interaction just makes you want to shrivel up and die

“so… should i go f-”

“look, we don’t have to do this, like… i personally hate icebreakers and i think i’ll survive without knowing what you ate yesterday. no offense.” yoongi chuckles before scratching the back of his neck, “we can just go back to doing our own thing until the professor calls time.” he shrugs before putting a single earbud in

you pause

oh!

okay

well

that worked out in your favour

“alright, no problem. i hate icebreakers too, so…” you turn back to look at your laptop

you stare at your empty google doc as your fingers drum aimlessly against the trackpad

you turn to take a look around

everyone else is just chatting their mouths off so you feel a little awkward sitting here doing nothing

…okay fiNE you’re just going to say something

“i mean, i guess it’s a good thing we’re not sharing anything with each other because i had, like, an embarrassing number of goldfish crackers for breakfast yesterday.”

yoongi nods before offering you a tightlipped smile

you press your lips together before slumping down in your seat a little

alllrighty

tough crowd this morning!

whEn is the professor going to call time??

at least you can use this time to think about where you’re going to sit next time

maybe you’ll sit in the front

smart people usually sit in the front, right???

you-

“what flavour?” you perk up when yoongi suddenly speaks up

he’s still scrolling through his phone and noT looking at you but you’ll take it

“the cinnamon graham cracker ones.”

he turns to raise a brow at you, “what? that’s not a flavour.”

“sure it is!” you scoff and open up your browser to search them up

“i only know about the cheddar ones. and cheddar is the superior flavour.”

you turn your laptop to show yoongi your screen, “see, check it out! there’s more than just cheddar.”

“oh. wow.”

and yeah

that’s how your guys’ first interaction went!

see?

nothing to rave about

it’s funny because you remember after hanging out with yoongi for the first time (the both of you had an hour and a half gap before your other classes) you told yourself that you weren’t allowed to like him

you have this tendency to immediately fall in love with someone just because they’re nice to you

like one time, this guy held the door open for you at the library and shot you a smile and a ‘no problem’ after you thanked him and you couldn’t stop thinking about him for literally two weeks straight

you’ve given him the affectionate title of library boy

you still think about him from time to time!

so you were pretty surprised to find that you weren’t slowly crushing on yoongi a month after meeting him

(you like to think it’s because sometimes he talks with his mouth full and that’s one of your turn offs)

this was a personal achievement for you!

not falling in love with someone after one day of getting to know them?

gold star for y/n!! :D

and you were pretty sure that this ‘friendship’ was just going to be one of those semester friendships

you know, the ones where you hang out a lot solely because you’re in the same class and it’s good + convenient to have a buddy in the same class

and after the semester ends you promise to meet up with them next semester and it never actually happens so it’s just an endless cycle of ‘hey, you free this week?’ and ‘i can’t this week, what about next week?’

and eventually you just stop talking to the other person because that’s just how it is

and when you see them in line for coffee at starbucks you’ll obviously say hi to them and the two of you will be like omg we have to hang out soon!!! but in your minds you’ll be thinking something like even if the world was ending we are not going to find time to hang out

you know, that kind of friendship!

not to mention, you don’t have a lot of boy-friends in the first place so you were positive that this was a business only friendship

so you were more than shocked to see the ‘i’m starving. let’s get pizza for lunch. where u at?’ text from yoongi at the beginning of the second semester

and now, here you are!

one year later and you’re still getting i’m starving. let’s get [insert food of choice here] for lunch. where u at? texts from yoongi

the only difference between now and then is the fact that you are completely and utterly whipped for yoongi

110% in love with that man

you don’t even know what changed!!!!

one day he was telling you a story with his mouth full as per usual and instead of finding it gross you actually thought it was cute how he seemed to resemble a chipmunk

and then you started to notice other things about him that you found cute

like the way his eyes light up whenever you bring him an iced coffee

or the way he throws his head back and places a hand on his chest when he’s laughing reaLLy hard over something you said

or how he leans back in his chair before sticking his foot up on the seat in front of him while chewing on the lid of his pen

and even your tradition of flipping each other off after you hop off the bus at your stop has your heart fluttering

you really can’t explain what happened

you kind of just woke up one morning and was like:

…do i like yoongi?

omg DO I??

this is… month five of your crush on him?

the only reason why you finally decided it was time to tell him about your feelings was because you spent the entire weekend reading friends to lovers fan fiction and now you’re all revved up and ready to rumBLE

if it can happen to a fictional character it could certainly happen to a very real human being like you

and even if he doesn’t like you back (womp womp) it’ll be fine

it won’t be the end of the world!

yoongi’s always been super chill so you’re pretty sure it’s not going to destroy the friendship

if anything he’ll just use it to tease you sometimes (“hey i’m thirsty do u maybe wanna buy a drink for me? …the love of your life?”) and you’re completely fine with that

sure, it’ll be a little embarrassing to have to sit through the ‘i just think you’re a really good friend’ conversation but you’ll get over it

“look who’s finally back.” yoongi glances up at you, “did you have a nice poop???” he says loudly and you can’t help but scowl when you get a couple glances your way

he giggles to himself before looking back down at his phone

“very mature, yoongi.” you snort as you take your seat, “you child.”

a beat of silence ticks by and you feel your leg started to bounce anxiously under the table

maybe this isn’t a good idea

…

you’re not allowed to back out of this!

you literally spent so much time hyping yourself up in the bathroom

you’d have wasTed hours of rehearsing if you change your mind now

“okay, i’m just-” your voice wavers and you clear your throat quickly, “i’m just going to say something, and… and don’t interrupt me or anything until i’m done, because then you’ll ruin my train of thought.” you pause to let out a breath, “i like you, yoongi. and not, like, in general… i mean i do like you in general but i like-you like you… romantic… style… you know?”

okay

well

it seems that maybe you needed to practice what you were going to say one last time because ‘i like-you like you romantic style’ definitely wasn’t in the original script of this tragic screenplay

“to be honest, i’m really not sure what changed. i know that we’re pretty good friends and all but i just felt like i had to tell you about my feelings. you know, i… i really care about you and you’re one of the most important people in my life, if i’m being honest. you’ve always been there for me and, i don’t know… i’ve liked you for nearly five months, and the only reason why i didn’t wanna tell you was because i didn’t want to, like, potentially ruin our friendship? oh, and it’s totally okay if you don’t like me back, i just figured you should know! i mean, it’s literally fine if you don’t feel the same way, and you don’t have to give me the whole pity speech because i know from firsthand experience that you’re literally the worst at trying to make someone feel better so… yeah! i guess that’s all i had to tell you. i like you.”

you twiddle with a strand of your hair nervously as you conclude your little speech and wait for yoongi’s response

…

yoongi looks up at you before plucking an earbud out

“what?”

you immediately feel all the blood drain from your face

he… he didn’t even…. he didn’t hear a sINGLE thing of what you just…

you just poured your heart out to him and he was listening to music this entire time?!?!?!

if anything, this is a sign from god

this is god giving you a chance to rethink the whole confessing your undying love for yoongi thing

this is god telling you that you should thank Him and spend the rest of your life praising Him for saving you from a lifetime of embarrassment!

you swallow thickly before letting out a nervous chuckle, “wh- what?”

“did you say something?”

“me? i did, but it’s not important.” you wave it off before letting out a scoff, “it’s whatever. it’s… yeah, it’s fine. all good.”

“‘kay.” yoongi sighs as he plugs his earbud back in, “but for the record, i like you too.”

“yeah, well-” you look back up at yoongi quickly

what did he-

did he just-

are you hearing things??

“um-” you shake your head quickly before leaning in a little, “sorry, what?”

yoongi sets his phone down before reaching up to pluck out both his earbuds

“did i stutter?” he sniffles before folding his arms and putting them on the table

you blink

you can’t tell if he’s joking or not because of the complete lack of emotion in his face

like that one time you were really upset over completely bombing your midterm and yoongi looked at you with the pokeriest of poker faces and was like: “this one, single test doesn’t define your intelligence. you’re one of the hardest working people i know and you’re a very diligent student. i’ll help you study for your next midterm. i believe in you.” and you were just like ?????

so right now with yoongi telling you that he likes you back..,., you genuinely can’t tell if he’s teasing you or not

“i don’t… i don’t know what you’re saying…” you feel like your eyes are going to dry out from how wiDe they are

“i’m saying that if you asked me if i wanted to go and make out with you behind the bookshelves right now…” yoongi hums as he leans back against his chair, “i would say yes. i would even go as far as to say hell yes.”

??????

what is happening?????

are you having a fever dream???

is THIS what a stroke feels like???

“actually, i’m starving. let’s go get some food.” yoongi gets up from his seat before grabbing his backpack and flinging one strap over his shoulder

you feel like you’re on autopilot mode as you get up slowly from your seat

you’re just… trying to process… what the hell is going on…

okay

so he does like you back??

“hey-” you look over to see that yoongi’s already picked up your backpack for you and has his free hand sticking out, “are you going to hold my hand or not?”

see???

how are you supposed to interpret that???

you look down at his hand and blink at it cluelessly

so he wants you guys to hold hands??

“for god’s sake-” yoongi rolls his eyes before grabbing your hand and gently tugging you along, “i have to do everything for you-”

“oh, that is so not true!” you snap out of your trance to defend yourself, “i’m just thinking about- so you could hear me the entire time??”

your stomach does a flip when yoongi suddenly brings your hand up to his mouth before brushing a sweet little kiss along your knuckles

“i like-you like you romantic style, too.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

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luminous-studiess · 4 years ago

Note

Ummm so I'm new to tumblr so don't judge if I did something wrong.Ummm how can I be like you? Like you know? Productive and smart.I always push myself but ended up being distracted by things (I have adhd and depression).I can't even remember anything after.I suffer,and continue suffering, from my mental illnesses.I just can't keep myself on track.My family makes fun of me for trying.I'm actually trying to find a part time job here but nothing hires minors.Idk please help meee.

hi, friend! answer under the cut because this will be long.

please know you’re doing nothing wrong, and that the fact you keep trying to become better and to push yourself to always get things done despite difficult circumstances already shows that you ARE already productive and smart.

second, it also helped me when i was struggling very heavily last year to learn two things: 1) there will always be particularly bad days when you live with mental illness, but all the little efforts you take, it slowly does get less difficult. getting better does not mean completely getting rid of all the symptoms you experience, but mostly just learning the best ways and small, gentle things you can do for yourself to manage your condition. this really requires a gentle but firm balance between pushing yourself to do the things you absolutely need to do, but also knowing when what level of work/school/self-care or hobbies is the limit, so that you don’t get too overwhelmed. this means most of the time, you don’t have to worry about being productive for its own sake. it helps me when i feel like i’m drowning to know how little i can do/the most non-negotiable bare minimum, that still helps me not to fall behind.

^ this is a small, cheap pad of sticky notes i carry with me throughout my entire day. it’s only big enough so that i can only write a few school tasks/personal things i need to do/chores, which helps me evaluate what exactly i can only get done, especially on days where i don’t feel well. checking off absolutely everything on my tiny list makes me feel like i’ve accomplished a lot, because i i have-- they aren’t necessarily a lot of tasks, but they’re the ones that i know really do need to get done. it also helps me focus when i have a lot of nervous energy, and have a panicked sense of “so many things need to get done!!!?” because i can give myself a bit of time to sit down, maybe turn on an episode of a show i like or make some coffee, and write down my tasks. it really helps me with the faint, tiny guilt and dread i used to feel day by day that i was being unproductive or lazy, because now i know i’ve fulfilled all my obligations to myself (everything from doing laundry, to making dinner) and to other people (schoolwork and other tasks). it’s okay to move at the pace that’s only possible for you right now. it’s better to feel comfortable with the smallest things you can do, and build on that as the days come. 2) getting distracted is normal, given Everything Happening Right Now, plus with a mental health condition that makes it hard to focus. it can also be hard to remember things when i study, because of my own health conditions, but i’ve found that the following things have helped: regarding distraction - use a small system that keeps you from accessing any distractions when you need to get something done. i try to leave my non-essential device in another room, and set up a timer-based blocker, to limit the websites i access. - i try to acknowledge the distractions as they come, and try to figure out why: am i hungry? am i tired? have i gotten enough sleep? do i need a break? if it isn’t anything serious, i just acknowledge that i’ve gone briefly off-track-- without guilt, without judgment. then i try to turn my mind back to the task at hand. - a good ambient playlist can make me feel more focused during hard tasks in the sense that i have some form of stimulation to keep the “itchiness” at bay. video game soundtracks and film soundtracks are also wonderful for long, tricky tasks. - sometimes i just have to start to feel motivated-- the focus actually comes in in the middle of the task. the fact of starting something may actually make you feel motivated.

- procrastinate productively: sometimes when i really don’t want to study i turn on a movie or a show and use the time to clean my room or fold laundry. my life still feels put-together, and i enjoyed myself! win-win.

- and sometimes i realize that focus may be impossible at the moment: take a break, go for a run, do something you like, take a nap. regarding learning and remembering things i used to have the worst time recalling things for school, until i prioritized two things: SLEEP, and not cramming. i used to get extremely poor grades in my first year of law school because i would put off studying at the last and latest moment-- a few days before exams, pulling all-nighters right up until the hour the exam started. i would also just use my free time to scroll on social media, instead of taking a nap or going to bed early. this was absolutely wrong. during the exam, i couldn’t recall anything because i was too tired, too frazzled, probably didn’t have breakfast, and because i had started and finished half a semester of reading in one night. my grades have gotten much better lately-- i’d like to think it’s because i’ve centered it around two things: (a) getting enough sleep every single night (helpful ESPECIALLY if you have health problems-- mental or physical), and (b) making exam day the least stressful it can be. how do i do this? - this means not only learning things for the exam, but also for classes on a daily period. you don’t have to study particularly hard, but you just have to study enough that you can understand what the professor is saying in class. set definite study hours every day, stop at a very specific and reasonable hour, and go to bed. try to get at least 6 hours of sleep. sleep helps me absorb everything better (idk science but this is from experience and also some very smart people i know ALSO prioritize getting sleep). wake up at a reasonable hour. - how to study: read the syllabus, and try to get a decent overview of all the topics you need to cover before you start testing/making flashcards/doing active recall (which is IMPORTANT bc this helps you actually train your brain to retrieve information). imho as someone low-energy i find that rewriting notes/making reviewers/making flashcards makes me very tired and leaves very little time for actual studying, so it just helps to test myself by looking at the syllabus and trying to explain the concept to myself, then peeking at the textbook or materials to see what i’m missing. mind-maps are also energy-efficient ways of figuring out how concepts fit together. - how to study for exams: the very latest you should start is a week ahead. two weeks ahead is ideal. map out how much information you need to re-learn from the syllabus. move slowly with the aim of finishing the coverage by the first week. the second is for reviewing and RESTING. - THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EXAM: do a final, gentle survey over the topics you may not understand. stop at 10 pm. go to sleep. - EXAM DAY: you’ve done the work. take the time to eat breakfast, test yourself SLOWLY AND GENTLY (avoid reading huge chunks of textbook at this point-- youll only confuse yourself), and set up your workspace to take the exam. crush said exam. as a final note: it can be hard to get things done when the people closest to you aren’t supportive. try to reach out on studyblr and find discord study with me servers, or study communities on reddit (they’re actually really nice), or with students in your class. if you need to talk, just dm me. you can do this friend, okay? take care always. gentler days will come.

#mental health support #mental health tips #student mental health #uni tips #college tips #study tips #how to study with a mental illness 2.0 i think???#studyblr #asks

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gabywantsafriend · 5 years ago

Text

Anything For You: Ferris Bueller x Reader

(Kinda my gif??? Idk I found it online but I originally posted it on here)

Requested by anonymous: ferris bueller realizing he loves the reader maybe?

I’m so sorry it took such a long time to post another imagine! I hope you guys enjoy it :’)

Warning: Swearing

“Adams?” “Here.”

“Adamley?” “Here!”

“Adamowski?” A rather lazy hand was raised, indicating the student’s presence.

“Adamson?” “Here.”

“Adler?” The response was delayed by a couple of seconds. “Here.”

“Anderson?” Another delayed response. “Anderson?” “Here!”

“Bueller?”

Nothing. You quickly scanned the room, he wasn’t there. You hadn’t even noticed that he didn’t walk in that morning. You looked at Cameron and he shrugged. Apparently he didn’t know what Ferris was up to or where he was. “Bueller?” Crickets. “Bueller?” Dead silence. “Bueller?” The teacher’s monotonous voice began to sound like a broken record player.

You cleared your throat as you tried impersonating the missing troublemaker, letting out a low “Here.” The class snickered, causing your teacher to silence everyone. Turning to you, he huffed.

“L/n, I know you and Bueller are best friends but you really don’t have to cover for him in his absence. You’ll get your turn in the roll call later, don’t get too excited,” He went on with checking the attendance. You stubbornly sank into your seat, eyeing the vacant one next to you where Ferris was usually sat. What kind of trouble do you have in mind this time?

--------

Recess rolled in and you were standing at the phone booth just outside of your school. You dialed Ferris’ home number and waited for him to pick up. He was probably out on another one of his spontaneous adventures.

“Hello?” His voice was nasally, he was always good at playing sick.

“Oh, cut the crap. Where the hell are you, idiot? This is your tenth absence this semester, you said you didn’t wanna miss school after last time! No wonder your grades are shit! What are you up to now?” You scolded. Skipping class to hang out and be teenagers was fun the first few times. However as it became a habit of Ferris, you wished he could take school more seriously.

“Y/n, calm down. First of all, I could easily hack into the school’s computer system and change my grades,” He coughed. “Second, I’m not kidding this time. I’m actually sick.” You scoffed, muttering a small “yeah right.”

Of course, you found it hard to believe. You’ve known Ferris Bueller since you were ten. And you knew that it took a lot for him to be ill.

“Why would I ever lie to you? I’m serious,” he deadpanned. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Alright, I’ll bring today’s assignments for you and I’ll visit you as soon as class ends.” You could practically hear him smile through the phone as he spoke. “Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best.” You bid goodbye as he did the same, both of you putting down the phone.

Well, what do you know. For the first time in a long time, Ferris Bueller was sick.

--------

You dropped your bike right in front of the Buellers residence and sprinted to the back door. You lifted the rug and took the spare key that Katie Bueller left in case of emergencies or whenever you wanted to visit. You were always welcome. Unlocking the door, you bolted up the steps and stopped in front of the door to your best friend’s room..

“Ferris, you better not be naked. I’m coming in.”

“Hi, Y/n.” The sight was beyond pitiful: The floor was littered with used tissues. Bottles of medicine decorated his dresser. And on the bed was a very pale boy, sniffling and shivering still even under the many layers of blankets he was covered in. Oh, Ferris.

“You look like shit.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you too,” he quipped. You rolled your eyes at his untimely use of sarcasm and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Jesus, you’re practically steaming,” You commented, getting up to fetch him an ice pack to hopefully lower his temperature. “I’m flattered, Y/n. I really am. But can you keep it in your pants until after I get well?” You were used to his foul-mouthed jokes by now. “Very funny, loser. Now put this on your forehead,” You handed him the cold material and he obeyed, hissing as it touched his skin.

“Oh, right! I got the homework for you,” you told him, getting your bag and pulling out his books and assessment sheets and laying them on his desk. “I also wrote an extra copy of the notes you missed,” You handed him the pages that you’ve ripped from your notebook where the duplicates were. His eyes, teary from his cold, widened.

“Wha-? But I just asked for you to get today’s assignments! You didn’t have to go an extra mile with taking my notes for me!” He took the papers gratefully, flipping through them. “I’m convinced you’re my guardian angel or some shit! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you.”

It was true. You’d gladly and endlessly do anything for him.

You’ve liked Ferris since you first covered for him in fifth grade.

Young Ferris thought it’d be a good idea to chuck a bouncy ball at Mrs. Ritland, the math teacher you had all despised. Believe it or not, he was an even bigger idiot back when you were ten. She was writing on the chalkboard, back turned to you; the perfect time to strike. The small toy hit the poor lady’s nape. The classroom was suddenly filled with gasps and the sound of laughter. She exclaimed in pain, rage-filled eyes darting from student to student. Before she could even question which delinquent threw the damned thing, you stood up and raised your hand.

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

Ferris was quick to defend you, chucking another bouncy ball at the woman. “If you even think of punishing her, you’ll have to go through me!”

You were both given a month’s detention and have been inseparable ever since.

“I’m dying,” He croaked, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Oh, please. You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do!” You quoted him. “Didn’t you say that yourself?”

He groaned, “Yes, I did say that myself. But now isn’t the time. I’m really not feeling well, Y/n.”

“Nonsense! It helped Cameron last time, he felt great afterwards.” You got off the bed, trying to pull him up with you. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the covers. “Aww, come on! Get up on your feet, mister! What do you feel like doing today? The weather’s lovely! Maybe we can go swimming? Or perhaps you’d like to go to the arcade? Ooh, street food sounds good! Just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take you there!” You coaxed excitedly.

“As much as I love our adventures, I was thinking maybe we could just stay here? You know, we could talk for a while and we can take a nap together just like when we were kids. And when I’m feeling better, we could watch a movie,” Ferris spoke softly, sniffling right after. You hummed, considering his offer.

“You can stay here and rest. I can get us some corn dogs from the stand nearby, I’ll be quick I promi-”

“No, no, you missed my point,” he shook his head, grinning at your stubbornness. “I meant can you stay? We don’t have to go anywhere. I enjoy your company, it’s more than enough,” He pulled the blankets to his nose, hiding his bashful smile as well as his growing blush. You were sure you would have melted then and there.

“Sure thing. Ferris.” You adored this boy.

It had been an hour since you’d agreed to stay in with Ferris and you were seated at his desk, tutoring him about trigonometric functions, a lesson he missed that day. He was reading the notes on the topic, following along with what you were saying. “Okay, I found this to be quite easy. So, we start off with the basics: sine, cosine, and tangent-”

At least, that’s what it looked like.

At first glance, it seemed as though he was actually studying. But what you didn’t know was that he had been admiring your handwriting and your little doodles on the blank spaces of the paper.

See, Ferris liked you. He’s liked you since forever ago. He remembered the moment so vividly, as if it only happened yesterday.

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

He looked at you and thought, “Wow, that is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Obviously, he couldn’t let a pretty girl such as you take the blame for what a stupid boy such as him had done. It just wasn’t fair to you. So he immediately admitted that it was his fault, as he should.

He felt guilty that you had to get wrapped up in this mess and had to suffer the consequences. To make up for it, every time you had detention, he would take you to secret hideouts around the school. That two months of running around school trying not to get caught marked your first of soon-to-be-many adventures.

And now here you were, almost eight years later, helping him solve for x. His eyes softened at how into it you were while teaching him. You were even more beautiful than when you were a kid, just when his younger self thought you couldn’t get any more stunning.

He thought about how you were kind enough to fill him in on everything he’d missed; how as soon as class was dismissed, you biked as quickly as you could just to take care of him. You could have easily ditched him to go out and get those corn dogs you’ve been craving; or you could have easily gone out for a walk since, according to you, “the weather’s lovely.”

But you didn’t.

You stayed.

The mere thought of that, along with everything about you, caused his heart to pound out of his chest.

I think I’m in love with her. Fuck that. I am in love with her.

“...And that explains why sine 90° is equivalent to 1. What the-? Ferris Bueller, are you even listening?” You waved a hand in front of his face, still not responding. He looked as if his mind was somewhere completely different. “Hello? Earth to Ferris?” He blinked a few times, shaking his head. He whispered something you didn’t quite catch. “What?” He whispered again. “I can’t hear you, pal. Speak up.”

“I love you. There, I said it.” You were at a loss for words as your eyes met. Both of you progressively got redder by the second.

“What in the right mind made you say that?” Confusion was evident in your voice, as well as nervousness.

“I’ve loved you for a while now and when you dropped everything to visit me today, I realized how deep I’ve fallen,” Ferris bashfully stated. He could be cheesy at times but you thought it was cute.

“Woah, you are such a fucking sap,” You both burst into laughter, him scoffing and clutching his chest in mock offense. “I love you too, you dingus.”

His heart fluttered as you said it. The mix of his sickness and your confession made him lightheaded. You plopped down on his bed, hugging him tightly. “Wait, what are you doing? You’re too close, I’m gonna get you sick!” He asked as you kissed his nose.

You got under the covers with him, rolling your eyes, “You think I still care? I fucking love you for Christ’s sake!” You made him laugh at that. “How about that nap you suggested earlier, hmm?”

He closed his eyes, the biggest grin still plastered on his face. “She loves me,” being the last thought in his head before contently falling asleep.

#80s #80s movies #ferris bueller's day off #ferris bueller x reader #ferris bueller imagine #imagine #ferris bueller #ferris beuller

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joontella · 4 years ago

Text

achromatic.

Yandere!Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Word Count: 11.1k

Genre(s): Angst, Slight Fluff, (HORRIBLY WRITTEN) Smut

Trigger Warning(s): Mentions of religion or lack thereof, blood, murder, idk how the human body works, (unknown) consumption of blood, manipulation, stalking, male masturbation (again, horribly written), Namjoon is an asshole, and musical terms because i play music rip, minor character death, slight gore. it gets really shitty towards the end. i’m sorry

Merry Merry! It’s Peppermint! Your gift is finally here, @exhausted-joy! I’m sorry for the wait. I had to make sure that it was perfect. This is my first time doing this, and I really wanted to give it my all. Please forgive me, and thank you for putting up with my antics in the server. I hope you enjoy it!

I also want to thank Saniya (@smeraldos-blog), Mari (@joheun-saram), Hannah (@spicykoreantatertots), Ley (@pars-ley), Avery (@ksmuttherapy), and everyone else who tolerated and/or helped me out! I love you all and thank you so much for the help and support! I’m so happy to have met you all!

ach·ro·mat·ic /akrəˈmadik/

adjective

without color.

“Damn. There goes my chance of starting my winter break with a passing grade.” One woman groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about? You have a solid ‘C’! I’m literally failing everything!” Her friend responded, as her arms waved in a cartoonish rendition of exasperation. “And whose fault is that?” “Not mine! This semester was nothing but a months-long depressive episode. How could I focus with everything that’s going on?”

He so desperately wishes that they would shut up, or at the very least, take their obnoxiously loud conversation elsewhere. Namjoon twirled the ink pen in his hand with a practiced precision only years of being hunched over paperwork could provide. However, those were nothing but pipe dreams as the two students turned their attention over to him. “There’s Kim Namjoon! He’s had the top spot for years now, way before he was enrolled here.” One began babbling quite loudly whilst pointing to the man in question. “I bet he came out of the womb with high marks. I heard that he scored in the 99th percentile for his newborn screening tests.” The other swooned in response to her own musings.

Obviously, these two were much more idiotic than he had originally thought. It didn’t take an expert to read his body language: the way that he twirled his pen faster, as if that could speed up the agonizing conversation he was being forced to bear witness to; the way his jaw clenched so tightly that it could easily break a metal wire; and the position his shoulders held, resembling an animal coiling in preparation to strike or flee. He pleaded to gods he didn’t even believe in for the duo to be quickly eradicated with a swift strike of lightning. According to the calculations he made swiftly in his head, the chances of something like that happening were infinitesimally small. How unfortunate.

Deciding that the best course of action to take would be to leave the two neanderthals to their devices, Namjoon did just that. He quickly snapped his book shut with one hand and a loud, meaningful clap as the pages suddenly collided with each other. If that didn’t make the nuisances jump in surprise, his words would.

“Although I’m a source of inspiration and wonder to many, it’s degrading to hear someone so openly refer to me in a way that one would to an exotic zoo animal,” He began. Namjoon’s tone was cool and even, carrying an air of regality all the while retaining a bitter edge of contempt and disdain for both the conversation and the mere existence of the two original party members.

Finally, the two felt the brunt of the consequences their crimes on Namjoon’s ears had to offer. They both visibly wilted, reminding the tall man of his mother’s daisies being roasted and withering under the dry summer heat. Normally, this would have been more than enough to diffuse the situation and lift him of his auditory burden. However, his heart ached for more. His brain so desperately yearned for more stimulation and a rush of dopamine.

He decided to twist the knife, so to speak.

“Also, you too could rise to the top.” Namjoon said as he began to turn away.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the two wilted flowers gain new life and their faces brighten with newfound hope. The loudest of the two even had the audacity to whimper a pathetically optimistic, “Really?”

Twist. Twist. Twist!

“Of course~.” Namjoon purred, deciding to turn to face his victims’ satisfying demise. His heart threatened to beat in double time in anticipation.

Although their anxiously awaiting smiles made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny the mirth swirling alongside the disgust in his belly.

“First off, instead of blaming your inadequacies solely on the tumultuous events of this year, take responsibility for your shortcomings. Only children avoid blaming themselves.”

He could hear the glass shattering as their faces fell in a tandem that most would find heartbreaking. He found it utterly amusing. Now, he would take his leave. After receiving the reaction he desired and more, Namjoon wanted nothing more than to leave the duo to stew in their humiliation. Yet, one last thing lingered. He had yet to land the finishing blow that would ensure that he wouldn’t be bothered by these two pieces of scum ever again.

Twist. Twist! TWIST!

“Before I forget, avoid talking so loudly. As you may or may not have noticed, I was trying to study. You know, one of the things that facilitates good grades? I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but your incessant bantering made it increasingly difficult to do so. Might I suggest that you follow my example and do the same? Maybe then, one day, you could take my place at the top.”

Namjoon wasn’t even facing them anymore. His back was to the two women, further solidifying his dismissal of them. With a simple and curt wave of his hand, he simply uttered,

“Ladies.”

And he was on his way.

“Exam results will be posted this afternoon. I trust that you all scored high enough marks to keep our university in high regard.” Your professor droned from the front of the lecture hall. “I know that many of you despise the fact that a standardized test is still administered in college, but so far, it is the only way to ensure that Mugunghwa National Academy is churning out bright students worthy enough to contribute to society!”

The students in question couldn’t care less about their scores or the school’s prestige. All they were worried about was getting the hell out of there after two hours of examination and stifling silence. They all stood from their seats and slung their bags across their bodies. A disgruntled murmur rang throughout. Quite frankly, you were no different.

As you hugged your notebook close to your body, your professor stopped you as you reached the lecture hall door.

“Ah, Miss (L/N). A word, please.”

Surprised, you let out a soft, “Sure.” and walked over to the podium where your professor started to neatly stack and organize his papers.

“As you know, Miss (L/N), you are one of the two best students we’ve had at this academy recently.”

You shifted your weight awkwardly at the sudden praise. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you began to speak. “I mean, I guess? I wouldn’t go that far, but I suppose that records and the numbers do suggest that I’m performing quite well.” Your professor scowled at your response. You were a bright young woman. You deserved to flaunt it and soak up the praise every once in a while, right? He folded his arms and sighed deeply causing your brain to go into overdrive on how you could rectify the situation. “While pride does come short of a fall, you should learn to take compliments when they’re given, (Y/N). I promise you that you won’t become an egomaniac anytime soon as a result.” He said gently, causing your nerves to subside. Right. Maybe you should just accept compliments. A little self esteem boost never hurt anybody, right? “Thank you, professor, but may I ask why you’re telling me this?” You asked, trying to move the conversation along as politely as you could. You had an hour before you were due to go to the college’s radio station and prepare for this evening’s broadcast. Hopefully, your professor would get to the point so you could quickly grab a bite to eat before you started airing.

“Oh yes, of course! I’m sorry! I said all this to tell you that I have your exam results already. Seeing as how you are the brightest in your class, you finished early, giving me enough time to grade yours while your peers were working. I think that you’ll find the results to your liking, Miss (L/N).” He grinned, handing you a white manila envelope with the school’s insignia printed on the front.

You quirked a brow and opened it. You were then greeted by the name of the school, its motto, and yet another print of the school emblem on the header. Your (E/C) eyes scanned the page until you found what you were looking for:

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: (𝑳/𝑵), (𝒀/𝑵)

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒎

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 98/100

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌:

1 𝒐𝒇 300

You stood there, dumbfounded. The paper you once held gingerly and timidly was wrinkling and threatening to tear under your now iron grip. You were now number one. Somehow, some way, you managed to best Kim Namjoon. Mugunghwa’s already carefully balanced and fragile ecosystem was crumbling around you. What have you done?

“I take it that you’re in shock. I’ll leave you alone to celebrate.” Your professor said smoothly as he slung his coat over his shoulder. “Congratulations, (Y/N). Please enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Uh huh… Will do…” You uttered dumbly.

Mugunghwa National Academy ran on strict rules, but most of them were unspoken. For the sake of your sanity and that of the rest of the student body (and let’s face it, staff, too), you intended to follow those sacred and silent rules to the letter.

Rule Number One: Don’t look in the janitor’s closet near the athletics facilities. You may not come out the same way as you came in.

Rule Number Two: If the cafeteria serves meatloaf, avoid it at all costs. Only eat it if you want to get sick and purposely miss class.

Rule Number Three: Kim Namjoon is the best at everything. He is to be number one until Hell freezes over.

Rule Number Four: In order to keep peace and balance between the nations, (Y/N) (L/N) must always come in second. This is the natural order of things.

You were content with being in second place. To be frank, you preferred to leave the pomp and circumstance of being the top dog to Namjoon. He was more equipped to bear the burden, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like your future career was depending on you being the best. You could skate by with a silver medal and leave Namjoon with the gold. You preferred the look of silver, anyway.

Now look at what you've done. There’s no doubt that the records have been updated by now. Your professor did grade yours early, and it’s reasonable to assume that Namjoon’s was as well. You’d inadvertently torn a hole in the gossamer fabric that was Mugunghwa National Academy. With one exam, you signed the collective death certificate of every other person besides Kim Namjoon himself.

May God have mercy on your wretched soul.

“Young Master, your father would like to have a word with you in his study.” The head butler of the Kim mansion stated simply.

For the second time that day, Namjoon clenched his jaw tightly. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to the older gentleman who was automatically waiting at his side to collect the article of clothing. He hadn’t even gotten through the door and already his father wanted to speak with him. This didn’t bode well.

“Seokjin, did he mention why he’d want to see me?” Namjoon asked dryly. Seokjin simply shook his head and hung his coat on the nearby rack.

“He only mentioned that it was urgent, so I suggest that it would be in your best interest to make it there expeditiously.”

This certainly did not bode well. Kim Joonho was a man of few words. Most would say that he’s the very definition of “actions speak louder than words”. Whenever the CEO of Kim Industries did something, people watched in equal parts starstruck awe and fear. However, when the CEO of Kim Industries deemed something important enough to speak on, there was no choice in the matter. You either listened intently or you perished in more ways than one. This was no different for Joonho’s family. In fact, he was worse to them. Working under the guise of caring for his family, Joonho was more stoic to his wife and children.

Regardless of his debatably righteous intentions, it sent the Kim family into delicately managed dysfunction. Simply put, Kim Joonho never spoke to Namjoon out of wishing to connect with his son on a more personal level. Namjoon was the next heir to Kim Industries. Being his son was an unfortunate side effect.

“Sir, I know that I did implore you to hurry, but-”

“What?” Namjoon growled. His nerves were shot to shit today. Anything that impeded his meeting with his father and his goal to quickly get it over with was met with hostility.

Seeming to understand this, Seokjin cleared his throat and motioned a gloved hand towards the mansion’s threshold.

“You know better than to walk in the house with your shoes still on,” The Kim butler began smoothly as he made his way over to Namjoon to collect his shoes. “I do understand that you are upset, but you shouldn’t let your emotions cloud your judgement so drastically that you forget such basic cultural conventions.”

Namjoon sighed sharply and bit back a retort that was bubbling in his throat. Arguing with Seokjin was pointless. As per usual, he was correct. Engaging in such petty conflicts would only worsen things.

“Right. I suppose I was quite hasty. Thank you.” Namjoon sighed whilst peeling off his shoes.

“I do believe that an apology is in order, Young Master.”

Namjoon was already halfway across the foyer, about to ascend the grand staircase leading to the upper floors when Seokjin’s cheeky remark reached his ears. He felt his blood begin to simmer in his veins and his muscles stiffen.

“The fact that I haven’t fired you by now and ruined any chances of you gaining any further employment should be enough of an apology. You’re treading on thin ice, Seokjin. Remember your place in this world.”

With that, he continued his journey to the final boss room within the Kim family mansion: his father’s study. The last he heard of Seokjin was a sly chuckle and the clicking of his polished leather shoes against the floor. Staff were not guests. Therefore, they were not allowed the privilege of removing their shoes. They were expendable. They needn’t get too comfortable.

Despite how much he detested it, Namjoon couldn’t deny that cold chill of anxiety that frosted his entire body. His father never wanted to talk to him. Ever. He could count on his hands the times that Joonho requested his presence. He could count on only one hand how many times Joonho requested his presence to celebrate his son’s successes. Their relationship was solely professional. There was no love to be found, no matter how hard you read between the lines. Even in as high of a position as Namjoon is in, he is still subservient to his father.

That’s the natural order of things.

“Come in, Namjoon.” Joonho’s voice rang from behind the large mahogany doors.

Almost cartoonishly, the hinges squeaked like Namjoon was uncovering the entrance to a haunted crypt. Namjoon decided long ago that was an eerily apt way of describing his father’s study.

Naturally, Namjoon obeyed his father and entered the room. Dead center, there sat Kim Joonho on his throne. Sitting with perfect posture behind the large oak desk, Joonho stared his son down with cold eyes filled with disdain. How Namjoon desperately wished he could gouge them out with his father’s prized letter opener.

“Don’t waste my time. Have a seat. I don’t have all day.” Joonho snapped.

“Of course. How are you today, father?”

The CEO’s eyes narrowed at his son’s inquiry. “Spare me the niceties, boy. Sit down. We have business to discuss.”

Before Namjoon could interject, Joonho was already reaching into a drawer and produced a white manila envelope. Upon closer inspection, one could see Mugunghwa National Academy’s insignia emblazoned on the front. Once Namjoon was properly seated, he reached out and grabbed the parcel.

“May I ask what this is?” “You may not. You have eyes, boy. Read it for yourself.”

The frigid chill of anxiety was soon being replaced with the molten heat of fury. Some tiny part of Namjoon’s mind was concerned that he would develop a fever at the sudden and constant shifts in his body temperature. That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t afford for his health to decline. That would be another thing for his father to berate him for.

“Of course. My apologies, father.” Namjoon whispered as he undid the envelope’s fastening. Once he did so, he pulled the paper out with an air of nonchalance. Surely, it must have been another letter from the school to congratulate him on some academic achievement he didn’t even realize existed. However, in his eyes and in the eyes of his father, it was the exact opposite.

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: 𝑲𝒊𝒎, 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓(𝒔): 𝑩𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 96/100

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌: 2 𝒐𝒇 300

For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon’s world fell apart before his very eyes. Suddenly the sturdy and imposing columns holding up the large study appeared to crumble around him. The fire that crackled in the fireplace was reduced to nothing but pathetic cinders. He felt the ground split beneath his feet and his father… His father grew to a monstrous size in comparison to his surroundings, suddenly hunched over his son in preparation to strike.

“This must be some mistake! The results must have gotten mixed up! I-”

“Enough!” Joonho boomed. He swiftly slammed his hand down on his desk, successfully frightening his son into silence. “Only children avoid blaming themselves. I thought I taught you to accept responsibility! How dare you blame your inadequacies on the people who made them apparent?!”

Namjoon clenched his fists tightly in his lap and pushed down the urge to go through on his original plan of plucking his father’s eyeballs out.

“Can’t you see? Whoever graded my exam was clearly incompetent. If they had a brain stem, they would know that I am only capable of producing top-class work! Just like you should not be blamed for one measly employee’s mistake, I should not be blamed for the mistake of someone beneath me!” Namjoon exclaimed. Once he finished his spiel, he found himself standing up, but he didn’t remember willing his muscles to do so.

“This entire conversation is pointless. It’s inefficient at best and mind-numbing at its worst! For someone who values time and money more than his own family, I find it quite curious that you’re willing to waste both so frivolously.”

Now, it was Joonho’s turn to clench his jaw and his fists. Despite the utter disdain he felt for the situation, the patriarch had to admit the merit in his son’s retort. His pride would never let him express the sliver of admiration that stirred within him at Namjoon’s courageous display.

Nobody dared talk back to Kim Joonho. That was the natural order of things.

“Regardless of who’s truly at fault, find this (Y/N) (L/N). She usurped your throne, Namjoon. She deserves to be punished for her transgression.”

“Of course. She’s public enemy number one, but she won’t be number one ever again.”

With that, the young master of the Kim household turned his back on the old master and shut the door to the crypt behind him.

“Aaaaaand now, we’re back after our break!” Your co-host chirped from beside you.

The red on-air sign glowed warmly overhead, creating a sense of coziness and heat in the otherwise cold station. You wrapped your cardigan closer around you before adjusting your mic.

“And we’re about to go into our winter break soon. How fitting!” You posited, trying to match your co-host’s energy.

“That’s right! Mugunghwa exams are finally over, and the scores and ranks have already been updated for some! Care to talk about that, (Y/N)?” Taehyung, your co-host, wiggled his sharp eyebrows in his quest to prod for information.

Normally, his rectangular grin and bright eyes would warm your heart. Today, however, you wanted to punch that devilish smirk right off of him. You should have known that Tae would have suddenly caught wind of your latest academic achievement. He’s the university’s most involved (read: nosiest) student.

“Not really… But you won’t shut up until I do, so…” You sighed as you spun around in your swivel chair. Once you stopped your cycle, you scooted closer to the microphone and cleared your throat. “I got a 98 on the exam. My professor stopped me after class and told me the news.”

Not that anyone but you and the sound director, Yoongi, would see it, but Taehyung’s impish smile turned into a disappointed pout. “Ah, listen to our (Y/N). Always dodging the important questions. Such a tease!”

You shoved him gently and laughed at his comment before shaking your head. “This guy… To everyone who dreams of dating him, work with him first. You’ll see how much of a horrible person he is.”

“Yah! That’s slander! Aren’t journalists supposed to avoid that?”

“I’ll kick your ass.” You licked your lips and began to answer the original question in further detail. “Yeah, so… Anyway, I got a 98 and I guess that warranted me becoming number one…?”

Both Taehyung and Yoongi’s faces dropped. From his booth, you could see Yoongi grimace and in your peripheral, you saw Tae stiffen.

“Up next is Still With You by our resident golden boy Jeon Jungkook. We’ll be back soon. Stay tuned.”

Suddenly, the on-air sign was turned off. The song began to play and Taehyung immediately gripped your shoulders.

“You what?!” Taehyung nearly screeched. “(Y/N), do you have any idea what this means?!” “That I took Kim Namjoon’s place and sent the fragile society of Mugunghwa into ruin? Yeah, I do.” Tae blinked for a moment. “No… Although, that does make sense. That seems way more important than what I was gonna say. Huh.”

You were actually going to punch the shit out of him. “Dude, what?”

“Listen, this is your chance! You can finally get recognized as the top-tier person that you are! As long as you were under Kim’s big, goofy shadow, you were going to be pushed aside! Now you can show everyone here how cool you are!”

You felt your throat tighten. That all-too-familiar sensation of a goose egg being lodged in your esophagus rose. You were going to cry. How you desperately wished that you could view the world like Taehyung did. How you longed to see the silver lining of every situation just like he did. All you saw was destruction and despair. All you felt was guilt for damning the entire student body to some cruel fate that only Kim Namjoon could dish out.

“Tae, I love you, but you don’t fucking get it! I’m screwed! We’re all screwed! I broke two of the sacred rules of this school! Kim Namjoon must always be first! I must always be second! I just sentenced everyone to death!”

Taehyung raised a brow, as if what you were saying were the incoherent ramblings of a mad woman. “You describe my cousin like he’s some heinous demon.” Even the usually passive Yoongi had to straighten his spine and widen his eyes at this revelation.

“He’s your cousin?!”

Tae leaned back in his seat with yet another smirk. This time, you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion this specific lift of his lips held. “Isn’t the resemblance obvious? The Kim line has some strong genes. It’s been that way since the Joseon era, I’ve been told.”

Ignoring the historical implications for why such strong genes would still be present thousands of years later (assuming that Taehyung was actually serious), you hurried the conversation along. Jungkook’s silky voice had faded away a while ago, leaving the two of you with little to no time left before it was time to open the floor to callers. This was your last chance to get some useful information about Namjoon before you were dragged into what you knew was going to be a relentless storm of phone calls and incredulous screeches at the news.

Like you had said before, you’d damned everyone. Who wouldn’t want to yell at the person that had the audacity to send an entire population into ruin?

“Get to the point, Taehyung. You’re telling me that you’re related to Satan himself? And I’ve been your co-host for how long?!” You near screeched.

Tae’s ambiguous smirk was now replaced with a blank expression. “I didn’t think it mattered, (Y/N). Why does it even matter now? If there’s a bigger issue here, I think you’re dodging it.”

You froze. He was right. For as long as you knew him, Taehyung had this uncanny ability to pick people apart and leave them vulnerable in an instant. This was especially effective on you, you’ve come to realize. The funny thing was that you hadn’t realized that you were employing tactics to postpone the inevitable inundation of accusatory and furious phone calls being thrown your way. Deep down, you always hated confrontation. Until Taehyung uttered those words, you hadn’t realized how deep that hatred and aversion was ingrained.

“Damn. You’re...good… I guess I am avoiding things. Let’s just get this over with. If we hold it off any longer, things will get worse.” You muttered as you looked towards Yoongi’s booth, motioning for him to put you both back on air.

Taehyung placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and flashed his signature boxy smile. “You don’t even know what they’re going to say. Who knows? News of your latest accomplishment may have brought the (Y/N) (L/N) Official Fanclub out of hiding. I bet that there are going to be several callers professing their undying love for you!”

“Their what now?” You asked dumbly.

Taehyung placed a hand on his heart and slipped into a persona reminiscent of the male protagonist of one the many romance dramas that were plastered on television nowadays. His deep voice rumbled the soundproof padding on the walls and wrapped you in its velvety embrace.

“(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I’ve struggled with these emotions for so long, but news of your success has given me the courage to confess them. I can’t quite make heads or tails of them, but I want to explore them all with you…” Not that anyone but you and Yoongi could see the exchange, but Taehyung gently cupped your chin with his large hand and looked longingly into your eyes. “That is, if you’d let me.”

Silence. Then raucous laughter from you and Taehyung. (Yoongi was visibly cringing in his booth.) You expected nothing less from the theater major, but you couldn’t help the delicate fluttering that began in your stomach. Was this the fabled Taehyung Effect at work? The two of you turned to your microphones and opened the floor to callers, as per usual for this segment of your show. What was highly unusual, however, was the heartfelt “confession” that was unwittingly broadcasted to everyone tuned in. Unbeknownst to everyone, the red on-air sign shone above your heads, serving as a beacon or perhaps an unfortunately ignored warning. A warning that your lighthearted joke wasn’t going to be a joke to some.

A warning that the harbinger of doom himself was listening in… A warning that he had now collected leverage over his new enemy… A warning that he was going to destroy you, even if he had to use his own relative to do it. He would surely add this to his rapidly growing arsenal of schemes.

The next day, the very air at Mugunghwa was different. Somehow, despite being the enigmatic second-place student, everyone instinctively knew to distance themselves from you. Biologically speaking, humans were still animals, despite the staunch separation that was created over time. There was still a basal instinct to survive. In this case, that instinct screamed, “Get away from the brainlet that dared to tip the scales and anger Kim Namjoon.” You didn’t blame anyone for their decision. You couldn’t. You’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if you did, and you didn’t want “hypocrite” to be engraved on your tombstone next to “cold-blooded killer”.

Everywhere you walked, people watched you intently with eyes filled with either fear, confusion, or disgust. You could hear thinly-veiled whispers as you passed your fellow students.

“There she is.”

“She’s surprisingly pretty. I expected some ugly broad to be under Namjoon’s shadow.”

Ah, yes. You had forgotten your previously fairly secretive life before the shoe dropped. You were content with living under the radar. After all, it kept the vicious rumors of the poor girl who by hook or crook got her way into an elite university on a full-ride scholarship at bay. As long as you held the number two spot, nobody cared about you. News of your arrival and subsequent theories surrounding it were just a fad that most people shortly moved on from. The drastic and sudden change from peaceful irrelevance to hostile notoriety made you nauseous.

The cold air nipped at your flesh while you made your way to the library. Fresh snow made its satisfying crunching sound as you sped towards your destination. Wait. Sped? Only when you looked down at your feet did you realize that your steps were quicker than usual. Needless to say, you were confused at this revelation. Were things really this bad? Why was your body subconsciously hurrying you along when no danger was immediately present? Then, it hit you: If the Kim Taehyung Effect caused your insides to flutter and your heart melt with glee, the Kim Namjoon Effect caused everyone to cower and hide in pure horror. Maybe it ran in the family. After all, the two were related. How that crucial detail managed to slip past you was beyond human understanding.

Soon enough, you made your way into the campus library. Warmth enveloped you and thawed your chilled skin with each step into the large building. The tall bookshelves that towered over you and the other patrons made you feel safe. The walls of knowledge served as barriers from the predatory glares that were shot your way anywhere else. Here, while not entirely forbidden, hushed insults and remarks were more so. The library was your sanctuary when the dormitories weren’t, and with all the girls and even your RA avoiding you like the plague, it was safe to say that your dorm wasn’t very inviting right now.

Whatever it took, you needed to get your mind off of the Namjoon business. Sitting down in the warm silence served to do just that. You absentmindedly wandered through the various sections of the building. The nutty scent of someone’s morning brew filled your nostrils on your journey, easily putting you at ease in an instant. The rhythmic click-clack of someone's fingers against a computer keyboard kept your body grounded to the Earth. It served as a nice tether and protection from your thoughts that threatened to whisk you away into the stratosphere with every step you took.

Your feet took you past the reference section, the nonfiction section, and even the genealogy section before making its final stop at the fiction section. When you first started college, you found it odd that a library carried such books, but you soon came to realize that an escape into another world was appreciated by everyone. A love for fiction did not have an age limit.

You found yourself engrossed in a high fantasy novel by one Bang Sihyuk. (A very talented author, you decided. You made a note to look into some of his other works when you weren’t staring death in the face.) The sweet sound of yet another page turning and revealing more of the lore slowed your racing heart. The subtle smell of ink and glue softened your muscles, willing them to relax into the plush chair. The floor lamp next to you glowed softly and turned the usually stark clash of pitch black lettering against white pages into a mellow brown against cream parchment.

Even if you knew you had to face the wolves outside your sanctuary eventually, you still savored the solace you had in that moment. What you never considered was that those halcyon days were going to soon fall into utter ruin and despair with a singular human-shaped silhouette.

Everywhere Namjoon went, eyes followed. The air around him crackled with apprehension, but he couldn’t care less if he tried. This was natural. The pitiful prey animals around scrambled away for dear life, functioning solely on the fleeting notion that sticking around would spell their demise. Most of the people here were college students beginning their prime. They couldn’t afford to wither away… Not yet, at least… And certainly not here.

Stifled gasps laced with fear and admiration threatened to strangle the poor Kim heir. How he so desperately wished that they would all shut up! The constant buzzing murmur felt like mosquitoes tiptoeing across his skin during the hot and balmy summer months. It was highly annoying, to say the least.

His piercing mocha eyes landed on a target. A mousy figure was dwarfed by Namjoon’s taller and muscular frame. Pair the size difference with his steely and—arguably murderous—gaze fixed on the piteous male before him, both parties were surprised that the smaller student didn’t go into cardiac arrest.

“I would stay to chat, but I have important business to attend to,” Namjoon began. The timbre of his voice seeped into the small man’s bones and rattled them with each syllable. “You obviously know something, or else you wouldn’t be so pathetically fearful.”

The other male gulped audibly. His dull brown eyes stared into Namjoon’s vibrant cocoa ones. His pupils contracted as a cold sweat formed on his forehead and neck. Deep down, he knew that one wrong move would send him spiraling into horrors unimaginable. This was Kim Namjoon he was dealing with. He only had one chance.

“I don’t know w-what you’re talking about…” He squeaked.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes with clear annoyance and disgust for the situation and the animal shivering before him. This caused the mousy man to gasp sharply.

“Tell me where (Y/N) (L/N) is. It’s a simple request. Even someone of your calibre should be capable of such a mundane task.” Namjoon stated simply. Disdain bled through his words into his tone and seeped into his prey’s already paper-thin psyche.

With a trembling arm, the rodent (as Namjoon decided to call him) pointed in the direction of the campus library. Of course you would be there. It made his blood boil to think that you’d already be in the library after receiving news of your latest feat. Anyone else would be a fool to risk losing such an honor. Studying was the only way to cement your new station as Mugunghwa’s new number one.

Without so much as a half-assed utter of thanks, Namjoon strode off in the direction of the large building. He was so hyper-focused on cutting you down and ensuring that you wouldn’t be a problem again that the signature thud of a body against snow missed his attention completely. The concerned and shocked gasps of onlookers didn’t affect him either.

Soon enough, he was at his destination. The same book-filled shelves and walls that greeted you greeted him at the entrance. Upon seeing his figure, the librarian at the circulation desk straightened in order to greet Namjoon properly. ‘At least one person here knew their place.’ He thought to himself.

“I’m looking for (Y/N) (L/N). It’d be in your best interest to point me in her direction as quickly as possible, Jimin.” Namjoon stated coolly with a tinge of nonchalance. Although he was painfully aware of the importance his little scouting mission served, his seemingly apathetic tone was the result of having said the same thing over and over like a broken record. The sooner he found you and got you to bend the knee, the sooner he could return home to his own studies.

The librarian, Jimin, nodded and swiftly pointed towards the fiction section. His mug of hazelnut coffee threatened to spill at the sudden and crisp motion. “She went that way, towards the fiction books.” He stated plainly. Namjoon couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his features. Jimin was always such an attentive servant.

Ever since that little incident before Mugunghwa’s annual recital, the dance major felt a deep sense of allegiance towards the older male. He had to. Namjoon was the only reason Park Jimin was able to continue his dream of becoming a world-class dancer, and it was made abundantly clear that what Kim Namjoon giveth, he can just as easily taketh away. Poor Jimin had no idea why you were being sought out by the most powerful student at the university, but he couldn’t help but suppress the gnawing sensation that he was leading you to a painful end.

Once again, forgoing a thank you, Namjoon began the final stretch of his arduous journey to find you and finally set things right in the world. The only issue was that he had no idea who he was looking for, exactly.

Oddly enough, despite your status, you had managed to keep a low profile. Very few people actually knew what you looked like. Hell, your student profile didn’t even have an image of you posted. In fact, the only way people outside of your direct circle of cohorts started to gather what you looked like was because the web connecting (Y/N) (L/N), radio show host and journalism major and (Y/N) (L/N), former number two was finally starting to weave itself. As far as most of the student body was concerned, you were nothing but a faceless placeholder image against a drab gray background. It wouldn’t have surprised Namjoon if you actually walked around with the words, “NO IMAGE AVAILABLE” permanently marked on your body. What he saw, however, was beyond his own comprehension.

There you were, his enemy, his prey. You sat idly in the large cushioned chair with your book nestled delicately in your hands. For the moment, you were blissfully unaware of the danger that loomed nearby. This was almost too easy. Almost as if your presence unlocked a vault to all his plans to destroy you, you looked at him.

And then his world changed. He almost felt sick at the sudden rush of sensory input his brain was forced to parse through. The previously unsaturated hall roared to life with colors he hadn’t even seen before. Warm browns, reds, and hues of every other name shot into Namjoon’s retinas upon gazing at your graceful form. This was (Y/N) (L/N)? This hidden gem? He was meant to demolish this?

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was rendered speechless. His heart began to beat in double-time. If his biological functions were a musical piece, this specific section’s tempo marking would be prestissimo. Beyond vivace, beyond presto.

He couldn’t take it, so for the first time ever, Kim Namjoon ran away.

You didn’t dare move. Fear wrapped its spindly fingers around your heart and clutched it in its icy grasp. You didn’t have to move your eyes off of the page to see who the shadow cast onto it belonged to. Deep down, you knew.

Goddamn it.

You just knew.

Just when you gathered the courage to face your doom head on, he was gone.

“What the fuck…?” You whispered. Your fantasy novel fell to the ground on its spine with a soft thud. Was this it? Were you officially losing it? Was stress causing you to hallucinate and see literal shadow people?! That was it.

Not wanting to have a literal breakdown in the middle of the library, you honed your senses in on the now cold-smelling coffee nearby. The faint hazelnut blend managed to at least tether you down to reality once more. You took a deep breath. Everything was now in focus. You had to leave, you decided. So that’s what you did.

If the library’s other patrons noticed the shocked, glazed over look in your eyes, nobody said anything. You had just come in contact with the menace. You were lucky to be alive. There’s no need to add insult to injury by inquiring about your current situation. Wordlessly, you ambled out of the library door. Jimin’s small eyes followed your every movement until you were finally out of his line of sight.

Soon enough, you made it to your dorm room. Oddly enough, it felt like you’d walked through a wormhole and warped to the private space. It appears that moving effortlessly through time and space was an eerily common theme that day. Not wishing to dwell on it any further, you plummeted onto your bed and let a dreamless sleep whisk you away from all your troubles.

A month had passed since your clandestine encounter with Namjoon. Surprisingly enough, after the first week or so of living in terror, the foreboding feeling of doom had all but disappeared. Like a colony of ants rebuilding their anthill after a sudden rainstorm, so too did Mugunghwa National Academy rebuild anew. As Thanksgiving rolled into Christmas, the student body had learned to accept that you were now at the top of the food chain. The status quo had shifted in your favor. Students that would previously mutter curses after you passed by would suddenly wave amicably once they noticed your presence.

While the sudden lack of hostility was appreciated, you couldn’t help but notice how shallow the whole situation was. A faint sense of disgust settled at the pit of your stomach. Or was it foreboding, after all? After your encounter with Namjoon’s shadow at the library, the Kim Industries heir had disappeared suddenly. He had disappeared without a trace. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. His scores were still updated regularly; his name was still in the mouths of every man, woman, and child that walked across campus; and you swore that you saw his tall figure slither like a snake behind buildings and shrubbery one time after class. While there was solid proof that he still (at the very least) resided within this plane of existence, Kim Namjoon had achieved cryptid status. Just a month ago, he was the dark overlord that ruled Mugunghwa with an iron fist. Now, he was merely a relic of the past, a name synonymous with the Boogeyman. Kim Namjoon was now used to scare freshmen like tales of a monster under one’s bed were used to frighten young children.

The truth, like all things are, was much more complicated than that. After he met you, his goddess, at the library, Namjoon spiraled out of control. Nothing was the same for him. At first, it was a fleeting rush of endorphins, he had decided. Perhaps the sense of victory he felt after finding his long lost rival caused his brain to go into overdrive with glee. With that in mind, he returned home to lick his wounds and rewrite his battle plans.

The next day, everything seemed normal enough. His world was in grayscale once more. Individuals who weren’t of direct importance to him retained their distorted, blob-like features. His senses were mostly dulled once again… Until you appeared. You walked across campus with grace that put the supermodels that his father regularly “worked with” to shame. To be honest, they looked like pitiful crows with snapped legs when put up against your stork-like elegance.

His previously unsaturated world regained its color. His heart rate increased, warmth filled his veins as a result. Everything was crisply in focus when it came to you. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was terrified… But that’s what intrigued him all the more. Once you left his sight, however, the blooming colors vanished. Everything was blurred again. The warmth had died and left him empty, hollow, and cold. After a few days of this occurrence, Namjoon made his biggest realization yet: he was in love with you.

He was quick to write it off as pure lust. After all, remaining at the top didn’t leave much time for him to indulge in more carnal pleasures. Hell, the only thing he could remember slamming on a table on doing all night long was homework, as old and pathetic as the joke was. Namjoon was a dashing, intelligent young man beginning to reach his prime. Abstaining from such a primal and basic need wasn’t good for him. With that in mind, he immediately began his conquest.

First, it started with the models his father would fuck behind his mother’s back. Despite how carefully manufactured their appearances were, they didn’t quench his thirst. In fact, they enraged Namjoon to the point where it wasn’t uncommon for the women to leave his bedroom bruised the next morning. This charade went on for much too long until he’d had enough.

No other woman could set his heart aflame without even trying. No other woman could bring life to his distorted and achromatic world like you could. So he tried a man. Several men, in fact. He got so desperate that not even his little Park Jimin was safe from his ravenous clutches.

Nothing. Nothing had worked.

Now, as the clock struck midnight in his grand bedroom, Namjoon sat in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. He’d been so on edge for the longest time, yet nothing he did could stir him. So, he did the only thing he knew how… Thoughts of you filled his mind as he ghosted a finger across his limp member. The warmth he felt was returning once more…

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?”

There you were in the Kim manor’s living room. A black silk robe hugged your form perfectly as you bounded over to him. Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast you in its heavenly warm glow. Your (E/C) eyes peered up at him with such admiration, lust, and most importantly, love. Before he could even properly process the scene, you had him enveloped in the warmest hug imaginable.

Namjoon felt a rush of lust and blood shoot straight to his dick.

“I know, darling… But I’m here now. We can be together. I’m all yours from now on.” He replied smoothly.

Namjoon didn’t even think it possible for your eyes to shine any brighter, but they did. And they were all for him. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, for his eyes only… He gently caressed your cheek, careful not to mark it. The time for leaving marks and bruises would come later on…

“Really?” You asked. Your entire face lit with hope and wonder. “You mean it? Please don’t tease me, baby~. I don’t know what I’d do if you had to go so soon…”

You buried yourself into him, as if you knew that your home was within his embrace. He relished in it. He really did…

Namjoon felt feverish. His hands got to work immediately. Visions of you nestled against him, starlit eyes gazing into his, your form undulating beneath him as he pounded into you with everything he had. Your ecstatic moans and gasps filled his ears and mind, creating a carnal symphony only you could compose.

Sweat beaded on his temples, his arms beginning to burn with exhaustion as they continued to bring him to completion. Musical, “I love you, Namjoon”s and “Please! I’m so close, baby! Fuck me!”s began to crescendo rapidly. The world around him went from a gentle warmth to a blazing inferno. Colors reached their maximum saturation. Namjoon’s heart began to beat erratically. This was it. This was it! This is what he needed!

“Yes, (Y/N). You’re so good to me! Take it! Take it!!”

With an animalistic roar, Namjoon shot his seed. It coated his body and even his blanket that he pushed aside in his lustful fever. The fireworks came to a close. His jagged breaths began to even themselves out. The angels stopped singing. He was alone once more… But he wouldn’t be for long.

Tears filled Namjoon’s vision as he looked at his clock. Time wasn’t important anymore… But you were. He was going to have you, and he was going to become number one again. Kim Namjoon was going to be your number one.

Just like that, the year of terror had come and gone. Now, a new year was upon you and another December along with it. You stared up at your dorm room’s ceiling with a dumb smile etched on your face. After all, that was the only expression you could possibly muster, given the circumstances.

“Damn… What the hell happened to me?” Was all you managed to say as you turned onto your side. Your phone in hand, you scrolled through your photo gallery almost absentmindedly until you reached one particular photo. There you were at a carnival with the Devil incarnate, Kim Namjoon. Your eyes bright with glee at the large plush you held in one arm as you posed with Namjoon for a selfie.

You chuckled and zoomed in on the image with a wistful smirk. While you stared ahead at the camera, Namjoon stared at you with an expression that you didn’t even know that he possessed: pure, unadulterated admiration. You were almost inclined to call it love.

The past year and some change was a whirlwind. Your earliest memory of it consisted of finally coming to terms with the ecosystem at Mugunghwa, only to be faced with Namjoon and your whole world coming down. Students and staff alike scurried away from the dining area, not wanting to be a witness to a crime. You had gained new friends over the course of these months. They simply couldn’t stand to see your last moments on this earth in complete agony.

However, your death never came. Namjoon stood proudly in the now empty cafeteria, as if he relished in the fact that he could clear a room without uttering a single word.

“(Y/N) (L/N). It’s so good to finally put a name to a face… And what a lovely face it is…”

If Namjoon wasn’t going to kill you, the water lodged in your windpipe at his words would. You sputtered, hands waving as you choked on your water. Suddenly, Namjoon came behind you and swiftly patted your back. Once you could breathe again, you wiped at your tear-filled eyes and peered up at him. “I’m sorry… What?”

Namjoon returned to his original position in front of you with a smirk. Pulling out a chair, he sat down with the practiced air of a businessman about to make a deal. “I called you beautiful. I do hope that wasn’t too forward.”

Now, you were suspicious. Satan himself had saved you from choking and was now calling you attractive? Were you dead? Did you imagine Namjoon helping you as a last-ditch effort to survive somehow? Was that the image your brain created as you slipped away into the world of the dead? But this was reality. Something deep down told you that you weren’t dying or dreaming.

“Forgive my skepticism, but I highly doubt that you came to exchange compliments. What do you want, Kim Namjoon?” You asked icily. The male in front of you visibly recoiled at your tone, as if he didn’t factor in the possibility that you could speak with such a tone. He quickly recovered, however, and he began his pitch.

“You’re half right, (Y/N). I didn’t come here to only compliment you, but I came here to have a discussion that is long overdue. At my core, I am a businessman. I make deals, I negotiate. That’s what I’m here to do.” Namjoon stated simply. Looking deeply into his eyes, he didn’t show any signs of insincerity, but that’s to be expected. He’s been trained his entire life to hiding his true intentions behind an amicable facade, regardless of how nefarious his plans may or may not be.

“I see… What is it that you wish to discuss? I’m afraid that I’m not as well-versed in business etiquette as you, so please forgive me for any mistakes or slip-ups that I may make. That being said, this is not an invitation to walk all over me. I may be inexperienced, but I am by no means an idiot.”

Could you be any more perfect for him? A beautiful face and body, poise and grace, and the courage to hold her own in a negotiation? Not to mention, the colors were swirling around you and blooming delicately in such a comforting fashion. He was absolutely smitten.

“I wouldn’t dare make the mistake of calling someone who replaced me as top dog an idiot. Give me some credit. I’m not as vile as the university’s tall tales make me out to be. I’m sure that my cousin, Taehyung, could vouch for me.”

You bristled at the mention of Taehyung. What had he done to him? Did something happen? No, that couldn’t be. You had just finished your show with Tae only a half hour ago. Surely, that isn’t enough time for him to get into any trouble, right?

“Calm down, (Y/N). Nothing’s happened to him. I can see the wheels turning in your head. My cousin is safe and sound. I can even call him up for you, if you don’t believe me.” Namjoon said smoothly, already fishing his phone out of his designer coat’s pocket.

“No, that’s fine…” You swallowed and regained your composure. Once you were calmed down, you returned Namjoon’s gaze. “I’m sure he’s alright. If anything, I’ll call him later. Right now, this is more important.”

Namjoon put his phone away and leaned back in his chair whilst giving a dismissive wave of his hand. Hopefully, the display of nonchalance would mask the sheer excitement and feverish nervousness he felt from being so close to you. Hearing your voice was like hearing the soothing melodies of birdsong in the morning. His heart soared at the mere act of being in your presence.

“Very well. I came here to apologize. You see, I’m well aware of the distress to you and everyone here at Mugunghwa that I’ve caused, and for that, I’m sorry.”

You could have died right there. Kim Namjoon? Apologizing? And apologizing to you, no less?! The infamous heir to Kim Industries, known for the downfall of any and everyone who dared impede his goals was apologizing to you?!

“Please, (Y/N). Forgive me. It’s just that losing to you has put my life into perspective. Yes, I was the head of our class, but what did that mean? Why was I fighting so hard to keep a title that in the long run, means so little? What was the point if I had no one to share it with?”

“What the hell are you getting at, Kim? I fail to see what this has to do with conducting business.”

As precious as you were to him, Namjoon despised your tone. If you were to be his, that sharp tongue would have to be dealt with. Besides, in that instant, you reminded him of his lowlife father. That certainly wouldn’t do. His queen should never adopt the mannerisms of Kim Joonho. Never. Ever. You were to whisper sweet nothings into his ear while he reciprocated. You were to never take such a tone with him ever again.

“I was rambling, so I’ll forgive that insolent remark of yours just this once. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Namjoon stated darkly.

Not wanting to push your luck, you relented. You were actually talking to Kim Namjoon. You couldn’t afford to ruin an opportunity like this.

“Right.” He resumed “The truth is that I’ve been watching you for quite some time. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do anymore. You’ve occupied every inch of my mind, and I just wanted to ask if you’d be mine, (Y/N).”

You sat there, slack-jawed. Was he serious?! What was happening?

“You’re joking… There’s no way that you could be serious. There’s no fucking way!”

“I am. I’ve done some soul-searching recently, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you are what I’ve been fighting for all this time. Not a damn class rank. I’ve been fighting for love, affection, understanding… And I believe that I can find all of that in you.”

“You… What…? I- How?”

“February 14, a dozen red roses were waiting for you on your desk in your dorm. With them, was a card addressed to you from a secret admirer. March 14, a diamond necklace was gifted to you for White Day by a secret admirer. And now, these.”

Namjoon produced a stack of envelopes bound by a black silk ribbon from his jacket pocket.

“These are from me. You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). Can you tell me who your secret admirer is?”

That was April. After a few talks with your co-host and having to sit through embarrassing stories of their childhoods, you finally took the leap and went out on a date with Namjoon… And you were the happiest you’ve ever been. The large stuffed animal that Namjoon had won you sat on a bookshelf, next to several other trinkets he had given you over the months you had dated.

You chuckled to yourself at the memory and closed your photos app. After which, you opened up your messaging app to shoot a quick text to Namjoon. That was until, you got a notification reading,

KIM INDUSTRIES CEO, KIM JOONHO FOUND DEAD IN HIS WINTER ESTATE.

Without thinking, you dialed Namjoon’s number and was greeted by a somber moan answering the phone.

“Namjoon, baby, I’m so sorry… I just saw the news.”

A sniff. “Hey. So the news outlets already published the story, huh? I should have known that it wouldn’t take long… They could at least have the common decency of letting his corpse grow cold first before they publicize it.” Namjoon chuckled humorlessly.

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t imagine going through the sudden shock of losing your parent, only to deal with the press soon afterward. You sensed that Namjoon needed some time to himself to grieve, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

“Yeah, it’s shitty what they’re doing. And to think that I’m going into that profession. It’s crazy.”

“It is what it is, (Y/N). Besides, I have faith that you’ll be one of the good journalists that don’t try to weave everything that they hear into lies and defamation.” He said earnestly.

Something about the way Namjoon spoke was unnerving. He didn’t sound like someone who was mourning their late father, but then again, he might have been in shock. His apathetic demeanor on the matter must have been a coping mechanism. After all, losing your father so suddenly is a lot to process.

All you could do is hum in response. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so, dear.”

A pregnant pause.

“Hey, (Y/N). I know this sounds horribly insensitive, but, can we still have our dinner date at my mansion? It’s just that I can’t bear to be alone right now, and you’re the only person I’ve been able to trust lately. It doesn’t have to be a date. I guess I just want you to come over.”

Your heart shattered into smithereens. He was alone and scared. Namjoon had no one to trust or turn to in his time of need, yet he found it within his heart to ask you. Who were you to refuse?

“Alright. I’ll go. Same time?”

He didn’t have to say a word, but you could hear his dimpled smile some out to play.

“Y-yes, yes, of course! Same time! Thank you so much, (Y/N). You don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Alright, see you soon. Bye.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh and faced your closet. You had exactly two hours to get ready for dinner. You had two hours to prepare…

And so did Namjoon.

Once again, Namjoon was summoned to his father’s study. He was expecting it sooner or later. His class rank hadn’t improved since his father sent him to take his top spot back by any means necessary, but you were number one now. Namjoon wouldn’t dare dethrone his goddess from her rightful pedestal.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was upon opening the large doors a swift slap coming across his face.

“You useless, useless brat! You can’t even eliminate a simple girl?! You can’t even reclaim your title?! How am I supposed to leave my estate and company in such incapable hands?!”

Joonho was fuming. His once pride and joy had betrayed him and disappointed him. How dare he? Namjoon sat on the floor, gingerly rubbing his cheek. He was sure his father’s handprint was burned into his flesh.

“I swear, you’re incompetent just like your brother! He disappointed me, and look at where he is now! I should have known that it was too good to be true.”

At the mention of his brother, Namjoon’s body stiffened.

“All of this. You’re ruining your life and your career all for some girl?! You’re willing to throw away what I’ve essentially bred you for, all for some lowlife pussy?!”

At the mention of you, Namjoon began to see red.

“I suppose I’ve been too lenient on you. I should have known that you would flounder. Maybe I’ll get rid of (Y/N) myself. It’s clear that she means a lot to you. Maybe you’ll get back in line once she perishes.”

That was the final straw. With pure rage fueling his every cell, Namjoon sprinted over to his father’s desk and grabbed his letter opener.

“Say it again, bastard! Say it again!”

Now, Joonho’s figure was dissolving into a crimson blob. All of his human like features were gone in a furious red haze. Kim Joonho wasn’t his father anymore. He wasn’t even human.

He was the enemy.

Without giving his father a chance to speak, Namjoon plunged the letter opener into the older man’s eye sockets. After that, it was a blur. Hours had seemingly passed and Kim Joonho was nothing but a human pincushion. Stab wounds littered his body, and blood was oozing out of every one. With a satisfied grin, Namjoon stood and cupped a crimson hand to his face.

“Seokjin! Seokjin! Come down here!”

The head butler rushed in the study and into the carnage. The older male was mortified at the bloodbath before him, but he couldn’t help the relieved smile and tears of joy forming in his tear ducts.

“Brother, come help me clean up father. Unless, of course, you have some words for him?”

Seokjin carefully approached his father’s corpse and smiled wickedly. He placed a gloved hand on his eyeless face.

“You’ve disappointed me, Joonho. And now look where that’s brought you. My transgressions against you warranted that I were to be stripped of my place in the world as your son, only to become your servant. Your transgressions warranted your death at the hands of your prodigy. Isn’t that poetic justice? Sleep well, father.”

“Master Namjoon will be down in a moment.” A maid stated as she had you seated.

A white cloth napkin was folded and placed on your lap while you got comfortable in the antique dining chair. Staff hurried to and fro to finish preparing for your meal, and it was almost amusing seeing them rush around like busy worker bees instead of the esteemed staff of the Kim Manor.

A few moments ticked away before Namjoon made his appearance. He was elegantly clad in a designer Armani suit, giving a regal and princely appearance as he made his way over to you from the grand foyer.

“Please forgive me, dear. I had some business to attend to.”

Namjoon outstretched his arms, motioning for you to give him a hug. You happily obliged.

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” You cheekily giggled. If you ignored the whole dead dad situation, the whole scene would appear wholesomely domestic. You decided to indulge in that notion.

Namjoon’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting. I hope that we can make up for lost time during dinner, yeah?”

You nodded and sat down in your chair. Namjoon was seated right beside you. As if on cue, the staff brought in your dishes. A classic Christmas dinner, consisting of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, ham, and vegetables was placed in front of you. On a small dish nearby, some cranberry jelly sat. You tried to hide the grimace at the red jelly. You were by no means a fan of the garnish, but you didn’t want to appear picky or ungrateful, especially considering the reason why you were having dinner with Namjoon in the first place.

Ever the attentive partner, Namjoon was keen on noticing your inner turmoil. “Is something not to your liking?”

“Uh, it’s just… I don’t really like cranberry jelly… That’s all.”

Namjoon looked utterly dumbfounded before letting out a joyful, booming laugh. “That’s all? Oh, (Y/N). You had me worried! I thought that I’d ruined the whole meal for you!”

His fork stabbed into a piece of turkey and he dipped the meat into the red gelatin.

“But, please do try the jelly. My brother and I, we made it for this occasion. I promise it’s nothing like the canned slop they sell in grocery stores.”

Namjoon made this? Now, this you had to try.

“Alright. Since you went through the effort of making it, I’ll give it a shot.”

You copied Namjoon’s actions of taking a slice of turkey and dipping it in the cranberry jelly. With the expression of a chef on Chopped, Namjoon eagerly watched as you placed the food in your mouth.

“Mmm! This is delicious! Namjoon, you should sell this! This is amazing!”

Another laugh came from Namjoon, although, this one had an arguably maniacal lilt. “Why, thank you, but I’m afraid that this specific batch is one of a kind. Besides, cranberry jelly isn’t the most profitable market out there.”

Little did you know that you had just ingested Kim Joonho’s coagulated blood. Perhaps that was why his cranberry jelly was one of a kind.

Merry Christmas.

#bwcssy2

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itsadamcole · 4 years ago

Text

graduation day

fem!reader x finn balor

Finn is reader’s English professor. He's spent the semester doing everything he can to make sure he doesn't do anything deemed inappropriate to her. Little does he know that reader feels the same way. The day of graduation, reader stops by Finn's office and the two confess how they've been feeling .... "is this what you want?" & "i've never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad before."

word count: 3k+

warnings: smut, a brief student/teacher relationship, sex in a semi-public area (office)

— enjoy this that i wrote at 3 am bc i was bored and couldn’t sleep .... idk what made me even think of this honestly. maybe it’s the thought of finn in a suit, idk .... there also could be a part two to this, i may need to think about it tho —

masterlist || part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You've always found your English professor attractive. He's made the school day bearable. Everyday at 3 pm, you'd walk into that classroom and everything would instantly feel better for that hour long class.

When he would teach, you would look at how his muscles looked in his shirt or how well his pants hugged his butt. He'd notice you looking at him but never thought anything of it because he thought you were just paying attention to the subject of the day.

Finn's always found you quite attractive as well. You've made his school day exciting. Everyday at 3 pm, you'd walk into that classroom and his day would instantly get better for that hour or so of class. After he'd assign his students their work, he'd always sneak glances at you.

You had noticed these glances but never thought anything of them because he occasionally glanced up to make sure everyone was doing their work.

It was graduation day today. Your white gown and cap hang in your car as you pulled up to campus. You hoped that Mr. Balor would be here. He'd told his students on the last day of classes that he'd be in his office from noon until 3 on graduation day to make sure everyone's grades were okay or if anyone needed to talk about how nervous they were to be graduating college.

It was 2:45 when you parked your car in your usual parking spot in the student parking lot. No one was here on campus. It was practically empty. Everyone wouldn't be arriving until five or six for the scheduled seven o'clock graduation ceremony. Only faculty members wandered around campus, packing up the last few things from their offices no doubt.

You got out of your car and checked the time again on your phone. 2:47 pm. The English building was at least a five minute walk from the parking lot. You'd just barely make it.

So you ran. In your white three inch heels you'd decided to wear to graduation. The skirt on your white dress you decided to wear under your gown was flaring out as you ran toward the English building. You pressed your hands down on the skirt so nothing would be revealed to any onlookers. You were terrified that you would pop out of the dress too as the neck dipped very low, revealing a lot of your cleavage. The dress looked a lot like the famous white Marylyn Monroe dress, just a lot shorter and the neck was more lowcut.

Finn was wrapping up in his office as you made your way across the large campus. He finished filing the last papers he had to and he turned off his computer. He leaves his office to run down to the teacher's lounge area to clear out his things from that room.

You check the time again when you arrive to the doors of the English building. 2:52 pm.

You'd been to this building so many times. The classroom you looked forward to coming to everyday was located in this building. His office was located two floors above the classroom.

You take the stairs, running up to the fourth floor.

As you walk down the hallway of the office floor, you check each room's name plate as you walk by, looking for the "Mr. Finn Balor. English Professor" name plate on the door.

One room door was open. You approach it and look at the name plate on the wooden door.

Mr. Finn Balor. English Professor.

You swalllowed, walking into the medium sized room.

Everything was neatly packed away. Everything filed. Computer off. His supplies were neatly placed on his corner desk that took up about 25% of the space in the room. His jacket hung on the back of his desk chair. The backpack full of summer work sat on the black leather love seat that faced the desk on the other side of the room. The door marked the halfway point between the desk and the love seat. Two book selves were placed opposite the wooden door. The medium sized room had a cozy feeling to it.

You had never come to his office before. You were too scared. Scared that something would happen and he would know about your little crush that you've had on him since day one of class in January.

Finn noticed this. How you'd never ask for an appointment or stop by his office for a question. Your grades were excellent and that's why he assumed you never stopped by.

You wait a few minutes in his office to see if he had gone somewhere and will come back. 3 pm approaches and your hopes diminish. He probably left.

You let out a defeated sigh as you make the decision to leave.

As you walk out the door, you physically run into something. Not something. Someone.

"Miss L/N," the all too familiar Irish accent said. "Nice of ya to stop by. I was just thinking about ya."

You finally meet Mr. Balor's too blue eyes and you ask, "You were?"

He nods and walks around you into his office. You swallow nervously as you stand in the doorway and watch as he places a box full of objects on the large desk. "I was hopin' to get to see ya before the ceremony," he says. "I'm glad ya are here."

"Why's that?" you ask curiously, walking into the center of the room.

Mr. Balor looks over at you before he says, "I wanted to congratulate ya on your big day and because ya passed Honors English with flyin' colors. Ya should be very proud of yourself, Miss L/N."

You say, "Thank you, Mr. Balor."

He blinks at you before he says, "Ya graduate today, Y/N. Let's stop with the formalities, shall we? Call me Finn."

"Finn," you echo, trying to get his first name to sound more familiar than foreign. Calling your professor by his first name is not something you had done during the semester.

Finn smiles as you say his name. "So, Y/N," he says, dropping all professionalism. "What brings ya to my office on graduation day? I know it's not to talk about grades."

You shake your head and say, "No, it's not."

He packs a few pictures on his desk away into the box he'd just brought into the room as he asks, "So what do I owe the pleasure?"

Nervously, you say, "I wanted to come talk to you, um, about how I've been feeling for a while."

The packing stops as Finn looks up at you. "Nervous about graduation?" he asks.

You rub the back of your neck and say, "Not really."

"What's going on?" Finn asks, leaning back on his desk. He crosses his arms over his chest and his ankles.

The light grey button-up shirt Finn is wearing is tighter than usual and accentuates his arm muscles when he does this simple movement. It's tucked into his black dress pants. The first few buttons are unbuttoned. He's dressed somewhat casually.

You say, "I graduate today. In about four hours, I will no longer be your student and you will no longer be my teacher."

Finn nods along as you speak. "That's correct," he says.

Before you say anything else, you quickly run your fingers through your Y/H/C color curls. "I thought that now would a good time as any to tell you that over the semester, I've developed some feelings for you and I find you very attractive," you blurt out, trying to speak as slow as you can but it still comes out as a mess.

He's caught off guard by that statement. In that one sentence, he's realized that when he thought you were paying attention to the content on the board, you were looking at him. He's realized that you never came by his office was because of your crush on him. He's realized that you feel the same way that he does about you.

You watch as Finn lets out a sigh of relief and you tilt your head in confusion. "I'm so happy that you said that," Finn says. "Because I've been feeling the same way."

That's when you realize that the glances he's been stealing from you all semester were because he felt the same way. He could never keep his eyes off of you while you concentrated on your work.

A smile forms on your lips as you look at your soon to be former professor.

Finn smiles at you as he walks over, closing the door in case anyone was around.

"It has killed me over the past four months to be your teacher," he says as he approaches you.

You look up at him and ask, "And why is that, Mr. Balor."

He smiles and says, "Because it's prevented me from doing this." He leans down and lightly presses his lips to yours.

You've envisioned kissing Finn a bunch of times, his his soft kiss exceeds all your expectations.

As your lips move against Finn's slowly, you drop your arms. You hadn't realized that you crossed them over your very exposed chest while having that conversation with Finn.

The light kiss continues for a second before Finn pulls away and looks down at you. Even in heels, you're about five inches shorter that Finn's five foot eleven frame.

"Ya look absolutely stunning in that dress, Y/N," Finn says, complimenting you.

Your face turns a light red as you say, "You don't look too bad yourself, Finn. Is that what you're wearing to the ceremony tonight?"

He shakes his head and says, "I had a suit I was going to wear tonight but now, I don't think I'll be wearing it."

"Why won't you be wearing it?" you ask.

Finn says, "Because if ya think I'm going anywhere right now, you're crazy. I won't have time to go get the suit from my place and make it back here on time for the ceremony."

You glance at the time on the clock in the office. It's close to 3:30 now. You look back at Finn and say, "There's still about two hours before everyone starts to arrive for the ceremony. There's plenty of time to kill."

His eyes scan you as he says, "I plan on killing every second."

In one movement, his lips are back on yours. This time, they move more harshly and passionately than they did the first time. Your hands fly to cup Finn's face.

Finn's hands go to your thighs and he lifts you up, walking you over to his desk and setting you down gently on it. His tongue makes its way into your mouth as the kiss intensifies.

You find your fingers on the buttons of Finn's button-up after you pull the shirt up to untuck it from the waistband of his pants. Your fingers work to undo each button quickly but carefully.

He shrugs off the shirt and your hands run up and down his toned chest and abs. Finn's fingers are under the skirt of your dress as you kick off your heels. The digits slowly slide up your thighs, closer to your throbbing core. You are aching for him, just like you have all semester. Except now, you'll get the satisfaction of his fingers instead of yours.

The thought of Finn's fingers inside of you is enough to make you wet. Well, wetter than you already are. The white colored panties you're wearing are probably ruined at this point.

Finn's free hand works at sliding the sleeves of your dress off your shoulders. The fabric falls, exposing your breasts to Finn.

He pulls back from the kiss to look at your exposed chest. "So beautiful," he mutters under his breath. "All mine."

Finn pushes you back on his desk and stands between your legs as he starts to kiss and suck on each breast. You let out soft sighs as your core starts to pulsate again.

You need Finn to touch you before you explode.

"Finn," you gasp.

He looks up at you with his eyes and he asks, "Something wrong, my love?"

You swallow and say, "I need you to touch me. Down there. Please"

Finn crouches down in front of his desk between your legs. "Of course," he says, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties. "Already so wet for me."

"Only for you," you sigh as Finn runs a finger over your clothed core.

He takes the waistband of your pantie in his fingers and pulls them down slowly, almost teasingly. He sees just how wet you are. Your folds are soaked with arousal.

Finn kisses your thighs and says, "I've always wondered what you've tasted like."

You throw your legs over Finn's shoulder and say, "I want your tongue. Please." Desperation is laced in your voice.

He smirks and runs his tongue slowly through your folds. You gasp and smile. He sucks on your clit for a second before swirling his tongue around it. You feel him push a finger inside of you, making you moan softly. Finn moves the digit slowly, teasing you.

You reach down and run your fingers through Finn's short hair as his finger speeds up. He soon adds a second finger. He stands back up, hovering over you as he fingers you. You're a moaning mess beneath Finn's touch.

Finn kisses your neck gently as he moves his fingers a little faster. Your body jerks under his touch occasionally as you're pulled closer and closer to your pending orgasm.

"Ya taste so good," Finn says against your neck. "And ya take my fingers so well."

Your fingers run up and down his back lightly as he speeds up his fingers, adding a third one. You gasp and moan as his fingers move inside of you.

Right as you're about to reach your orgasm, Finn pulls his fingers out and you whine. He sucks on the three digits he had inside of you before he says, "Get on your knees for me, my love."

You nod and get off the desk. You get on your knees in front of Finn. You reach up and start to undo the button on his pants. You pull down the article of clothing and run your finger over Finn's hard member. You free him from his boxers. You're shocked by the size of Finn's member. You knew he was packing but not this much.

You take Finn in your hand and pump him a few times before you take him in your mouth. You start slow and shallow before eventually taking most of him in your mouth. You move your head, sucking occasionally. Finn starts to thrust into your mouth as saliva drips down your chin.

Finn groans softly as you suck him off, but it's not long before he stands you up and his lips are on yours. You push the dress off your body, stepping out of it.

He turns you around so your butt is pressed against his erect member. He gropes your breasts and kisses your neck. You gasp and moan as his member runs through your folds.

You're bent over the desk and Finn spreads your legs apart. "Is this what ya want?" he asks.

"I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad before," you admit.

That's all Finn needs to hear before he pushes himself into you. You grasp onto the desk as he pulls out, only to thrust hard into you again, making you moan.

Finn's trusts are hard and deep from the beginning. He's waited a while for this moment, and so have you. He's not going to be gentle with you.

You pull your left leg up onto the desk and hold it, giving Finn more access. He thrusts harder and harder, making you moan loudly.

When Finn finds your g-spot, you let him know immediately. "Oh, Finn," you gasp. "Right there." He starts slamming into the spot over and over again, making you moan louder and louder.

After a few moments of this, Finn stands you up and turns you around, laying you on your back across the desk. He thrusts harder into this time and his lips are on your neck. You gasp and moan as he moves.

One of Finn's fingers rubs your clit as he thrusts hard into you.

You lift Finn's head up and kiss him roughly. Your tongues battle for dominance and his hand rests around your throat.

A thin layer of sweat has formed on both your bodies as he continues moving.

Your walls begin to clench around Finn and he pulls back from the kiss, resting his forehead on yours. "Come with me, princess," he says, out of breath.

"Tell me when," you gasp.

After a few more seconds of movement, Finn says, "Now."

The two of you come together. You let out soft moans and whines as Finn helps you ride out your climax. He collapses on top of you. The two of you sloppily kiss for a few seconds before detaching from each other.

Both you and Finn get dressed but the kissing and touching doesn't stop. You make your way to the love seat, where you lay and makeout with Finn until six.

He walks out of the building with you and walks you to your car. Other seniors have begun arriving by this time.

Finn says, "Come by my house around nine tonight. I'll show ya a real celebration then."

You stand in front of Finn and look up at him. "What will this mean for us?" you ask. "Will we get to see each other after I graduate?"

He says, "Let's cross that path once that graduation cap is in the air and you've officially graduated."

You giggle and nod. "I'll come by at nine," you say. "Tell me the address and I'll be there."

Finn tells you his address then says, "See ya when ya walk across the stage."

"I can't wait."

#finn balor imagine #finn balor smut #finn balor x reader #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #wwe imagine #wwe smut #imagines #imagine #smut #nswf imagine

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pluviophile-bookworm · 4 years ago

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HSMTMTS 2x9: so dreaded, so exciting, 'Sword!' (yeah, I went there, I've been thinking about this scene - you know the one - since yesterday for some reason)

After two computer malfunctions and a very tough, very sleepless night, here I am with a third attempt to write this post. The universe is against me today. Is Mercury in retrograde or something? Ugh, I just want to get this over with already. And I haven't even managed to see half the episode yet. You better like this cursed post because it's taken me two hours at this point, and will probably take another to finish - and that is if nothing goes wrong this time. Please bear with me. This is my reaction to HSMTMTS 2x9, take 3. Let's hope and pray it's the last one.

I'm normally [unpopular opinion alert] a very spoiler-positive person (it's the combination of anxiety and ADHD and a bunch of other stuff, I suppose), but for this one I've been refraining from looking at the tag all morning, so by now I'm simply bursting with impatience. But before we dive in, I need to get some stuff off my chest.

Some pre-watch thoughts and feelings (let's see how well they will have aged by the end of the episode):

Seriously, what is with whoever writes this show? I know it's impossible, but I feel like they've been toying with my emotions specifically all season. Like:

Ah, so you were a Rini shipper last season? Great, now we'll make them obnoxious and borderline toxic to the point where you actually want them to break up, but then their old chemistry will be back just for the breakup scene so that you can cry your eyes out over the one couple you couldn't stand - even though you can't seem to relate to a single song from Sour, we'll make you feel like you do for a hot second. At least it will remind you that you loved Ricky.

So you say Redlyn own your heart and soul? Great, we'll make you dread something going wrong with them for a week straight, and mess up your sleep schedule beyond repair over it. You're welcome!

We heard you said Rodfini give you life? Perfect, how about a big Seblos fight? And would you like a side of questioning your choice to stan Carlos with that? Because what is life without a little anxiety, a bit of doubt of your ability to read people, and a pinch of existential dread, right?

Ah, so you claimed not to ship Portwell romantically, is that right? Brilliant, we'll make you ship them and then we'll use that to torture you, too.

You've been excited about ABF and Asher Angel guest-starring ever since they were announced? Magnificent! We'll make you hate ABF's character to the point where you can't even look at him, and we'll make you call him names you thought yourself incapable of uttering. And as for Asher, you'll be left waiting for him until the last third of the season, and then you'll dread the possibility of hating his character, too. Do you love us yet?

Oof! Right then, I've got that out of my system. Time to dive in.

Miss Jenn playing around with the backgrounds is, like, 90% of the people who had online school this year, and honestly, I love that for her.

Wait, why is Nini first on this call? Are they going through with the Rose thing? Cos like, the song is nice and all (and, might I add, much more to my taste than nearly all of Sour, don't @ me), but if they use it, it will get them disqualified. They’ve been told that! Gosh, please let me be wrong about this.

We get it, Carlito, rich and fancy and over-the-top is kind of your thing, but have you stopped for a second to think about how others will feel about this? Especially Seb, whom you claim to care about. Seriously, though, I love Carlos and would not hesitate to die for him, but I’m getting the feeling that, unlike my other favourite (you know the one), he wouldn’t do the same for me. Oh well, he’ll figure it out. He’s just a kid. Give him time.

Wait, Milky White? Is that an Into the Woods reference I smell? Cool! If I had a cow, I’d totally name her Milky White (or Gertrude, but don’t ask me why). I just hope they don’t have to, like, take her to the market and exchange her for magic beans, if you catch my drift.

Ahhhhh, Caswell cousins content! We love to see it!

‘You guys are watching, like, old old movies’ WTH, Nini (or is it Nina)? Scary Movie is literally younger than me. But what do you know about it, you 21st-century baby! Ugh, I don’t know why I’m being so hostile today... must be the lack of sleep. Hope it doesn’t influence my reactions to the episode so dramatically as to make me forget how much I love this series. Because I do.

Yay! Big Red is here! I can finally smile. And did Ash just say they’re soulmates? Because yes they are! Ahhh my heart is going to explode.

‘Nini, have you heard from [Ricky]?’ Yikes, awkward... but of course, Big Red can be counted on to save the day here, too.

Ok, so that was a cool cold open. Time for some nice in-person scenes, though. I did not spend all of three semesters doing online school just to have the characters of my favourite series do the same.

Wow, Gina is really embracing that French accent thing! And I really don’t want to think about, erm, ‘Napoleon over here’ right now, but I really think the fact that she’s doing it better than him will be another piece of evidence towards my theory of fake-French!Antoine... ugh, I said his name. Oh well. Back to Gina. Too bad the French thing didn’t work out for her.

Ahhhh, Portwell with Ash in the background! And Ash is going to paint EJ’s nails! I feel like he’s going to end up loving that, despite what he says right now. But seriously, I just love how comfortable these two are with each other. Can you blame me now for shipping them as friends? Well, I mean, it’s obvious they will be more than friends, and somehow, despite the amatonormativity of it all, I’m here for it.

Wait, was that Asher? That was Asher, I’m 100% sure of it. And Gina said ‘a sign’ and then looked at him, even from the back... what am I supposed to think and feel here? I’m confused. Moving on.

Ahh, poor Ricky being a burrito... good thing that breakup scene last time reminded me that I love him, because the entirety of the season before that was very good at making me forget that.

Wait, did she say ‘the Bean’? As in, that Bean? The infamous Bean? LOL.

‘So the only time you two talk to each other is to gossip about me’ Boy, did I feel that. I once got my hands on my dad’s mobile and I... kind of went through his texts with mum. Yep, all about me and my brother. At this point I feel like they’re only together because of us. But this is getting too personal. I’m here about the episode, not to rant about my family. Moving on.

Yikes, looks like Nini’s got writer’s block all over again. Am I supposed to feel sorry for her? Because I kind of don’t. I mean, no hate towards her, none at all, but that entire scene just felt awkward and unnecessary. And not just because it’s her first time going live. That I can understand. What I don’t understand is why the writers can’t seem to do anything creative and interesting with Nini. Olivia is being wasted there. Idk, that’s just how I feel. Again, no hate.

Ahhhhh it’s Asher! And well, he’s not Jonah, but I kind of really like him as Jack. I wonder if that will last.

So is it just me, or is anyone else not quite sure how to feel about Ricky’s mum? I mean, their interactions seem kind of awkward and strained, but that’s how it’s supposed to be given their recent history, and yet something just doesn’t sit quite right with me.

‘You there, Muse? It’s me, Nini!’ Ah, so it’s Nini again? I didn’t get the memo. Gosh, this episode is kind of really underwhelming. The most exciting thing so far (but not nearly as exciting in practice as it was in theory) – Asher and Sofia’s on-screen reunion. The second most exciting thing? The thought of Ash painting EJ’s nails. Everything else? Kind of ‘whatever’. Is this what I tossed and turned about all night? Totally not worth it. This episode better get, like, 300% better right this instant. It’s just not worth all the frustration and excitement and dread so far.

Looks like my prayers from just now have been heard! That improv scene was hilarious! Guess it was lucky that Miss Jenn had them do improv before this moment. But I need to know more of Jack’s backstory now.

Ok, so that was awkward! So Kourtney is talking to Howie again, I guess. And I guess I know now what Carlos did that was all public and no subtle. Still, what’s wrong with posting photos from your holiday? Guess I don’t exactly know yet what Carlos did to piss the others off so much.

Great, now I’m tempted to google butterfly faces. Good thing I’m not eating anymore. *** Ughhhhh this was a mistake! Please don’t ever look a butterfly in the face if you want to stay sane. Don’t be like me.

Ahhh the Duke sweater! ‘Is that your boyfriend’s?’ Well, not quite yet, it’s not... *screams in Portwell*

Oh, now we’re talking! But seriously, Ricky? The ‘my friends think’ card? Why don’t you just say ‘I think’? It’s clearly something you’ve thought about a lot. I feel like I’m going to love this scene or cry over it or both.

Ooh, therapy. It’s not just... basically the entire fandom... who says it now. Please tell me that means Ricky will be going to therapy at some point. Says the girl who is currently firmly refusing to go to therapy in favour of hyperfixating on HSMTMTS and getting back into the good old practice of having imaginary friends... yeah, I’m one to talk.

My, my, my! Seb has really had it now. I mean, it was about time, but... not quite like this. My heart is starting to do some weird stuff, I can feel it. I might need to lie down.

Ok, so as much as I envy North High for getting to see so many shows on BWay – basically living out my dream – stalking East High on Instagram and being shady about them taking a well-deserved break... just goes beyond all limits. I mean, if you’re so into Broadway shows, you should know as well as I do what happened the last time a certain founding father did not take a break. Maybe you’re the ones in need of a break here.

Nini on the call with the Caswell cousins, though... ‘I’m obsessed with both of you’ – first relatable thing she’s said or done all season. And EJ playing with old toys is pure gold.

Oh, so Jack’s dad is a pilot. Makes sense, I guess. I’m kind of intrigued by this guy. Just as long as he doesn’t try to come between Portwell before they’ve had the chance to happen, you know...

Ashlyn might need to stop swooning over Nini’s songwriting or Big Red might get jealous... I mean, I would not have pinned him as the jealous type before 2x7, but ever since then... I guess insecure + dating a girl like Ash = the jealous type. And although that looks good on him, I’d bet anything it doesn’t feel particularly pleasant on his side. So... wait, why am I talking about Big Red? He hasn’t even got anything to do with the scene at hand. But then again, there’s been so little Big Red content in this episode that I seem to be trying to make up for it. Still. Stay focused.

Ooh, so Big Red did edit that video! Is there anything my boy can’t do? Ok, now I feel like he’s even more criminally underappreciated than he was before. But let’s look at the video. I’m curious to see the whole thing because that sneak peek from yesterday simply hasn’t been enough.

That was... really, really cool! I love how they took the ‘when they go low, we go high’ line from last time and run with it. Now if only they were putting as much effort into BATB... North High wouldn’t know what hit them.

Hmmmm... I guess Gina and Jack could be what I originally wanted Portwell to be... really cool friends. Unless it’s one of those ‘airport magic’ things. Oh well. It probably is. Was that all we’re seeing of Asher here? I did not wait 2/3 of the season for this. Though it was nice.

Ooh, Ricky’s solo song... why is there more Rini chemistry in this song than there was in all the season? Not counting the breakup scene, of course. Also, I feel like it’s just as much about him and his mum as it is about Nini. Some say music is the best therapy. I think they might be right. And no, I’m not crying. You are.

The granola bar, though... this episode might have been very underwhelming in the first half, but... it delivered in the Portwell front, and the music was *chef’s kiss*, so I’m willing to let it slide that the advertised Seblos ‘big fight’ was not touched upon nearly enough. Maybe next week...

Ok, now that we’re done watching the episode, let’s see how my feelings from the beginning have aged:

The Rini breakup: apparently, along with reminding me that I love Ricky, it has rendered me unable to look at Nini. What’s up with that? If this is some sort of tactic along the lines of ‘Olivia might be leaving the show so we’re making you hate her character so that you won’t miss her’, it’s not really working. Because I don’t want to hate Nini. Believe me, I don’t.

Redlyn: ok, so there’s nothing wrong with them whatsoever - we even got a ‘soulmates’, which I loved - but first they’re being swept under the rug, and then the antis come at us with that ‘their relationship is underdeveloped’ nonsense. Individually, though, I liked them in this episode (even if there was a significant shortage of Big Red), and Ashlyn collaborating with Nini again was cool, but... what I really wanted to see was her painting EJ’s nails. Did she even get the chance to actually do it? Maybe next week.

Seblos: I’m still failing to understand exactly what Seb thinks Carlos did wrong (please enlighten me if you did catch that, I’m kind of slow), but he (Seb) does have reasons to be mad at him (Carlos)... and at other people, too. Still, if you want to have a fight between two people in a relationship, you could do much better than whatever this episode was. Maybe next week. I notice I’m saying that a lot. Guess I’m putting a lot of hopes on 2x10. I just pray it doesn’t disappoint.

Portwell: boy, am I happy that my frustration on this front did not age well! What I mean is, apparently they’ve decided to bless us, not torture us for once. Even a rather disappointing episode like this one had to have some sort of silver lining. And Portwell is it.

Asher as Jack: well, luckily I didn’t hate him, but... it’s kind of the opposite problem. I loved him and now they’re taking him away from me. Guess I just can’t win here. Oh well. At least he didn’t have the screen time to get in between Portwell...

All in all: 2x10, my hopes and prayers are with you!

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