#if you (the friend) are reading this. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. I AM CALLING YOU OUT ON PUBLIC TELEVISION!!! >:[

[jewishcottontails]

hey! i am so happy your experiences have been positive. unfortunately, every single goy i have ever interacted with has said something really weird or antisemitic towards me after finding out i am jewish, with no further reasoning beyond that. my friends cheered for the columbia protests in which students chanted “october 7th everyday” and “go back to poland” to american jews! my friends shared and continued to uplift jvp even after they had gone on to say jewish people should not pray in hebrew! (among other things..) my (antizionist!) jewish friends cannot post anything related to being jewish without receiving comments about freeing palestine!

on a separate note, to “pick the right side” is to fight for justice and equality, tikkun olam, and to hold empathy for every innocent person.. which means also understanding cheering for a violent attack where jewish people and goyim alike were raped and killed not only on shabbat but on simchat torah at a musical festival is also wrong! there is nothing unjust about fighting for palestine, but when your idea of fighting for palestine is to tell jewish people to renounce their culture or cheering for them to die instead thats not…um…well thats not really fighting for palestine… if you’re saying pick a side hamas/israel then you don’t seem to care about people from either palestine or israel as far as i can tell, because you’re looking at human lives as “born in the right place” and “born in the wrong.” and you’re looking at other jews as “evil apathetic zio monster” or “A Good One :)” (so long as they are not mourning their lost loved ones who may live in Israel?)

again, i am so happy your experience being jewish in non-jewish communities has been positive. not everyone has that privilege, zionist or not! i personally do not tell anyone i am a zionist or even hint towards it, and i have lost lots and lots of friends on the basis of being jewish. i hope there comes a time you can look at the world beyond yourself and develop empathy and understanding. 😊

additionally no ones knows what zionism is and apparently you don’t either 😵‍💫 as all it does is put a name to an ideology that has been engraved into judaism since we were slaves in egypt. have you never attended a passover seder? you’ve never said “next year, in jerusalem!” as every seder ends with? you’ve never read torah, as the jews are guided to the land of israel? you’ve never celebrated sukkot, or chanukah for that matter? youve never fasted for tisha b’av? if you think zionism is a belief that inherently even so much as challenges palestine’s existence??? then, you don’t know what zionism is—and for you to call it antisemitic, you definitely don’t know where it came from.

whatever is hateful to you, don’t do onto others. go and learn!

It's insanely sad to read post after post of gentiles talking about how at least we all have each other and all we can do now is draw strength from our queer and leftist communities bc Jews literally cannot do this. Like you all completely and so utterly turned your backs on Jews this year and we have no one. Except other Jews. Who make up 2% of the American population. It's so great for you all that you can hold hands and sing Kumbaya but you made supporting Hamas and retweeting twitter funny men with literal terrorist hate symbols in their usernames normal. So no some of us cannot draw strength from the queer and leftist communities. Some of us just have to sit here and take it as you all reassure each other that none of this is your fault even though it so obviously is.

[lilacstro]

★this might be the night that my dreams might let me know, all the stars are closer"★. pac: what to expect next in life

hey guys! long time no see! I wanted to post this pac on new years but I just....didn't.

anyways, I hope you enjoy this one. drop suggestions in the ask box!

PS: I saw 9 of cups in all of the piles, and this tells me maybe all the collective together is going to have a wish fulfillment soon! that's so sweet haha

support me on ko-fi

Paid readings open

₊˚ʚ Pile 1 ₊˚ʚ

current energy: some of you here might be quitting something. There is a "bid adieu" kind of energy here. There also seems to be a throat chakra blockage, maybe you are unable to speak, maybe due to throat issues, cold, flu or even could be engaging in frequent arguments. An advice for you regardless is taking time to think before you speak. Some of you here might also be having trauma resurface. There could be trust/confidence issues as well. Some of you here might also be going through third eye activation. There may also be trouble in engaging things you want to, making time and space for things. You may be having nightmares or such kind of thoughts stemming from past, your family lineage or even trauma.

what's next: for some of you here, who were leaving something, or someone behind, good call, it is the right thing to do. I am hearing "everything that has ever been lost will always be replaced by something better". There would be a lot of options making themselves available to you. You have divine luck, divine protection. One more thing that is coming through is that a fake relationship would fall off, especially if it is with a women. Some of you may also have a change of personality, going from a "I'm a boss bitch" types to going into more serene energy, more calm and collected. Mind you, I do not mean to say there's anything wrong with either :) For those of you who want it, there are options in love coming through as well. For some of you, you may as well have many options in love, think clearly though because one of them may end up being your true love. There would be a lot of emotional healing coming through. For those of you who have been "used" to feeling numb, your heart would open again, just use your thinking and think clearly, please. One of your heartfelt wishes, one you had a lot of attachment to may be coming true as well. It is also possible to hear an apology from someone, especially if they are a water sign.

₊˚ʚ Pile 2 ₊˚ʚ

current energy: while shuffling these cards I had a feeling of "money" being important to this group. Either you gained money, lost it, are investing it or maybe you are planning to make a significant purchase. Pile 3 maybe important as well. Some of you may also be in a mental hole. Feeling trapped or burdened by something. Someone here could have also gone through a hardship in romantic connection, a heartbreak or could have seen the options they anticipated not work out, making a wrong choice. Some of you here might also be struggling with making changes in your day to day life, which can be as big as moving countries or as small as working out everyday. Holding on to ideas, people, memories or routines you know you should let go of.

what's next: I see a wonderful opportunity for financial gains presenting itself to you. You may be afraid or nervous to take it, but go after it, Pile 2. Do not get confused though. Apart from this you may also see new bonds being strengthening with friends and people you meet, more confidence and charisma. You'd appear attractive and reliable, and if you are someone who is anxious socially or likes being alone, you would come out of the shell and enjoy life, enjoy people. For people who are going through a breakup, especially, getting over this person may be the best thing to do. It may take a while, but there is wonderful things awaiting you. If you can subscribe to this description of this person being extremely manipulative with their words, it's even more of a confirmation. For others of you, do not sabotage things coming to you. If its love, luck, money, travel. A wish is about to come true but maybe not exactly how you thought it would. For example, money may come in form of an idea, meeting someone important may come in form of having this feeling of going to that place or saying hi to that person etc. So do not sabotage your blessings by being in a warzone mentally always :)

₊˚ʚ Pile 3 ₊˚ʚ

current energy: Some of you here may be working out a lot. Listening to motivational music. Some of you might also be growing more towards calmer things and ideas, maybe yoga, spiritual retreats in mountains etc. I get why there was a connection between pile 2 and 3, because yet again there seems to be a feeling of being deceived in love, or feeling as if the wish came true but it was a façade. Some of you might also have received a promotion at work, or may have been taking too much workload, maybe even creating an imbalance. There could be arguments on this. Some of you may have "severed ties" with something, maybe a habit, an idea, or a person, but regardless it seems for the best. Birds may be important. I would say watch out for people who try to appear "way too sweet" and try to get under your skin the meanwhile. There could have been a connection which was off balance, especially the masculine energy which could've led to the spiritual awakening of the feminine energy.

what's next: There seems to be a LOT of things that seem to be coming for you pile 3. Before I type next, I heard "revolution starts within", makes sense since I am seeing a lot of reversals in your reading. You need to step out of your mind and body for a while, or atleast strike a balance to be able to experience the real world. "You are not running out of time" is one another message I heard. You will find your spark again, very very soon. Being full of energy, exciting things in life, that once felt dull and lifeless. A period of stagnation is ending. You would be given a way to live this exciting time, but you have to act on it yourself. "Do not be afraid of judgement or being cringey" Maybe you wanted to start a venture, an account, YouTube, do it! Because there is indeed some change coming into your career and financial situation which is divine. A wish is about to come true. Do not "force" change or your energy levels on yourself, let it take time. There is a lot of healing happening for you, especially if you were hurt by someone or something in the past. Things are about to get soo good. Spring after a winter.

[gothcsz]

El Cumpleañero | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~8.3k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: It's Javier's birthday, so you show up to his party and things get fun.

Tags: friends with benefits dynamic, jealous!javi (can't help myself), flirting, dancing, javi is a little ooc here but idgaf i need him (in my head he's a bit younger in this au), some untranslated spanish, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), back shots for days, a lil bit of exhibitionism on javi's part, creampie, one use of a degrading term (slut), some dirty talk, pussy pronouns, facial, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, little to no physical descriptions of reader, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: hiiii everyone! this is my humble submission to @yxtkiwiyxt's never have i ever challenge with my prompt being never have i ever woken someone else because i was too loud during sex 🙈 kiwi bb tysm for hosting such a lovely writing challenge for us, i hope you enjoy this smutty fic! oh, and i am dedicating this one to @letsmeetintheafterglow, amorcito, you left such me a juicy request in my inbox for javi that i just had to write! so, i merged it with the challenge prompt 🖤 hope you dream of him tambien ☁️ also, i couldn't help but project my fantasy of wanting to dance to corrido/banda music with javier. i feel like he's actually a pretty good dancer! swinging ya around to the beat of the song with his hand at your lower back and a modelo in the other. ugh. the song la niña fresa basically inspired the nickname javi calls reader 🍓 and just sets the vibes, i think. as always, let me know that you think and thank you for reading 🖤

The backyard is buzzing with the chatter and laughter of what feels like half the town, the smoky scent of barbecue wafting through the air and the twang of a corrido blasting from oversized speakers, making the ground shake.

You walk through the fenced yard, the southern breeze grazing your skin as familiar faces nod or wave in passing. Your eyes scan the crowd, skimming past clusters of people dancing and conversing, all of them gathered to celebrate someone who swore he didn’t want a fuss.

Of course his family didn’t listen. They turned his “keep it small” request into a blowout, like they always do, inviting anyone and everyone. Not that he could stay mad—he never really does.

When you spot the man of the hour, the corner of your lips lift instinctively and your feet seem to move on their own accord, pulling you toward him.

He’s by the bonfire, the glow of the flames painting his chiseled features in shades of gold and shadow. He stands with his hip jutting out, a cigarette balanced between his fingers, sharing it lazily with two girls you barely recognize.

They hang on to his every little move, trying to soak up whatever attention he might spare. It’s a scene you’ve witnessed too many times, and you really can’t blame them.

You’ve been in their shoes (still are, truth be told), waiting for even a flicker of his focus to land on you, and you know all too well where that desperation led.

To his bed, on his tongue, his cock—you shiver at the memory, your nipples pulling taut.

He’s the kind of man who doesn’t have to try to make hearts ache; it’s just who he is.

A walking daydream wrapped in leather and indifference, with that devil-may-care grin that promises trouble and delivers every time.

You roll your eyes and huff sassily, detouring toward one of the coolers instead. You grab a drink, making polite small talk with a couple of acquaintances, though you can’t keep your gaze from wandering back to him.

He’s already looking at you.

It stops you mid-sentence the way his brown eyes are fixed on you, heavy with intention.

The cigarette is at his lips, the faint glow of its cherry pulses when he sucks in then lets out a ribbon of smoke. 

He makes it look so damn hot, it’s almost enough to persuade you into picking up the bad habit.

The curly haired beauty next to him is chattering a mile a minute, but it’s clear he isn’t listening.

His focus remains locked on you, sweeping slowly—mischievously—down the length of your body. You can feel it, as sure as a touch, lingering at the deep neckline of your sweater then on the way your jeans hug your curves. It’s shameless, but that’s him, isn’t it?

Your smile tilts into a puckish smirk. Lifting your hand, you wiggle your fingers in a small wave.

It’s like striking a match. His gaze narrows slightly as if he’s trying to decide his next move.

He hands off the cigarette with a casual flick of his wrist and shifts his focus back to the girl beside him. She’s still rambling, her words tumbling over each other in an eager attempt to hold his attention.

He doesn’t bother pretending to care. Instead, he lets out an indulgent chuckle, shaking his head like whatever nonsense just came out of her mouth is equal parts adorable and absurd.

You almost feel bad for her. It’s hard not to fall for that sleazy charm—especially when it’s attached to a man so fucking handsome.

When she swivels to chat with her friend, his eyes immediately find yours again. A cocky expression paints his countenance, one that practically asks: What the hell are you doing all the way over there?

You entertain the idea of making him wait, savoring the power in holding his attention hostage for just a moment longer. But who are you kidding? The magnetic pull he has over you is impossible to resist. It always is.

The small box tucked snugly in the back pocket of your jeans presses against you as you weave through the crowd, sidestepping a few overly tipsy guests and slipping past the fold-out tables scattered across the lawn. 

“Hey,” you say, sliding yourself effortlessly between the two girls, not caring about interrupting their conversation. Immediately, their sharp side-eyes practically stab you with twin daggers of irritation.

You don’t flinch. You’re not here for them, anyway.

You only care about the pair of deep brown eyes that make you feel like you’re the only person in the world when he looks at you. “Happy Birthday, Javier.”

A flicker of what looks like smugness and amusement crosses his face as he licks his lips, taking another measured drag.

He’s dressed in a variant of his signature look—a white button-up with a few buttons let loose to show off his neck and the top of his chest, despite the brisk autumn air, and a worn brown leather jacket accentuating his broad shoulders.

However, it’s the ridiculous tiara perched atop his head that catches your eye, and the sight makes you frown ever so slightly when you notice the matching glittery ones on his groupies, like it’s some inside joke you’re not a part of.

For some inexplicable reason—it rubs you the wrong way. You can’t believe you’re slightly jealous of it. How stupid.

“Thank you, fresita.” 

Ugh, that infuriating nickname. You’d been charmed by it at first, assuming it was something sweet and impish. It wasn’t until Chucho let it slip that it’s also used to describe a woman that’s spoiled and picky that you realized it wasn’t just affectionate; it was also dig at your finer tastes.

And so what if you are a little high maintenance?

You don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, even though he loves coaxing it out of you. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, letting a soft undercurrent of flirtation lace your voice as you ask, “Mind if I pull you aside? I’d like to give you your gift.”

His interest is evident in the way his brow raises and the girls bristle slightly, their expressions shifting to thinly veiled jealousy once they realize he’s no longer focused on them. You captured him the moment he saw you amidst the crowd.

“We were just finishin’ up,” Javi says casually, dropping the cigarette and crushing it beneath his boot. He flicks a glance at the two disappointed faces, his smirk widening. “Con permiso, chicas. Thanks for the smoke.”

As he steps away from them, you feel a little triumphant thrill surge in your chest. They look deflated, their pouty expressions almost comical as they watch him leave with you, muttering goodbyes under their breaths.

The curly haired woman stares you down, and you try not to let the smug victory of whisking him away be too obvious… though you can’t help but smile condescendingly before fully turning away. 

“Some fan club you’ve got,” you tease once the two of you are finally alone, near the entrance of the sun room that’s a part of the house.

He smirks, leaning against the siding and tilting his head, once more eyeing you down like you’re the finest thing he’s ever seen. “You jealous?” 

You scoff, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “Absolutely not.” It’s a little white lie, since you had felt a twinge of that pesky envy, but you don’t want him to know that. He’d either give you shit for it, or on the more extreme end, rethink this arrangement he currently has with you.

And you’d rather not lose it. Not right now, at least. You’re having too much fun letting Javier fuck your brains out on a consistent basis. 

Slowly, you close the space between you, your fingers darting up to flick the tacky tiara perched on his head. “Cute.”

Before you can step back, his hands are on you—big and warm as they grip your waist and pull you flush against his chest.

The force of it has you sighing out in satisfaction. There’s something wholly fucking addictive about the way he handles you.

His hands know exactly where to place themselves, his fingers applying the perfect amount of pressure to set the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“No need to be, baby. You know you’re my favorite.” If your friends knew you were hooking up with the town slut, they’d definitely stage an intervention before you could finish your next sentence. Laying out all the reasons why letting Javier Peña into your bed was a one-way ticket to heartbreak city.

They’d call it desperation. They’d call it lowering your standards.

But what they don’t know is that standards start to feel awfully overrated when Javier has you pinned to a mattress, whispering filthy promises in your ear as his hands map every inch of your body. They don’t know what it’s like to have his full attention—his lips trailing worshipful kisses down your skin, his gravelly voice murmuring sweet nothings in Spanish that you don’t fully understand from how he slurs them together but feel all the same.

Being around him is electric, intoxicating, a high you’re not quite ready to give up.

So no, your friends don’t know. And as long as you can keep this thing between you and Javier your little secret, they never will.

“You gonna let me unwrap my gift or what?” His hand slides lower to cup your right cheek with shameless familiarity, giving it a frisky spank that makes you giggle.

This man and his obsession with your ass—it’s borderline ridiculous, and yet, you’re absolutely here for it.

“Later, maybe,” you reply with faux coyness, your finger dragging along his mustache then over to his pouty lips. He purses them, placing a kiss to the tip of your finger, “if you’re not too busy.”

His hold on your backside tightens, voice morphing into something more sultry, raspier, which is your absolute weakness. It makes your thighs rub together. “You know I always make time for you.”

You laugh softly at that. More often than not, you’re the one initiating while he only reaches out when it suits him. It’s not ideal at times, but you don’t get hung up on it.

You’re not about to ruin this by asking more of someone who doesn’t have it in him.

You reach back and pull the small box from your pocket. “Here’s your real gift,” you say, holding it out to him. Your voice softens, but there’s still a playful inflection. “Hope you like it.”

Curiosity fills those dark eyes as he takes the box, eyeing the tacky birthday wrapping paper with a soft smile. The sight of that grin on his face has your eyes morphing into hearts.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know,” you reply with a shrug. “But I saw it at the thrift store and just knew it had to go to you.”

You angle yourself to press a light kiss to the tip of his chin, your lips brushing against the stubble before you nip at it gently with your teeth. “Open it.”

His nimble fingers pull apart the crinkled folds of the wrapping paper to reveal the small box inside. When he opens it, you see his immediate delight, and your heart does a traitorous little flip.

The golden chain bracelet glints under the string lights strung along the roof’s edge, somehow making it look nicer out here than how it had been displayed at the store.

“Damn, this is nice,” he says, genuinely appreciative. The praise sends a faint thrill up your spine, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watch him lift the bracelet out of the box to inspect it.

You’ve imagined how good the gold would look while his wrist is flexing as he grips your thighs, holding you open for him. Or when he’s feeling you up, rough and greedy, fingers digging into your soft hips as he takes your pussy how he wants.

“Put it on,” he holds his wrist and the bracelet out toward you. His tone carries that easy confidence, like he already knows you’ll obey without question.

Which you do, obviously. You carefully clasp it around his wrist, your fingers brushing his skin as you secure it, and that little brush feels like you’ve just snorted a line of adrenaline with how amped up your body gets.

“Looks good on you,” you admire your handiwork, though the truth is; he’d make anything look good. Even a paper crown. Or, you know, a tacky tiara.

“Gracias, fresita,” he replies smoothly, that familiar nickname rolling off his tongue.

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

“Nah.”

Before you can come up with a witty retort, he pulls you against him again, One hand at your lower back, the other tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. His lips capture yours in a kiss that’s eager and completely unapologetic.

“Easy there, birthday boy—”

“Can’t help it,” he cuts you off, his voice rough against your lips. “Been waiting for you to show up all night.”

You can’t help but chase after that tasty mouth of his, your tongue licking against his, teeth biting into his lower lip and the slight tickle of his mustache makes you shiver. Then his hips grind against your thigh, his erection prominent which in turn has heat flaring all over your body. 

“Let’s go inside,” he breaks away, tugging you toward the small steps leading into the sunroom.

You weren’t expecting to fuck him so early on in the night but you’re not about to complain about it. Every fiber of your body yearns for this man—but specifically your cunt. She’s obsessed.

The room looks like it’s in the middle of a renovation—a man cave in progress.

One wall boasts an unfinished bar, complete with half-empty bottles and shot glasses scattered across the surface. A brand-new pool table sits in the center of the room, its felt pristine, untouched by drunken games or spilled drinks. 

At the far end, a set of leather couches and a recliner face the large television set and entertainment center.

The double doors to the house are shut tight, leaving the room dim and private, save for the warmness of the string lights spilling in through the windows.

You’re caught up taking it all in when Javier sneaks up behind you, pressing hot, greedy kisses against your neck as his hands roam your body.

There’s nothing tentative about his touch—he cups your tits with both hands, squeezing them over your sweater as a deep groan rumbles in his throat. His need for you is palpable, a force that makes your knees weak even as he maneuvers you toward the pool table.

“Here, Javi?” you pant when he sucks at your weak spot under your jaw. “Let’s just go up to your room—”

“No,” he growls, spinning you around to face him, his dark eyes alight with lust. “Want you right here on this table.”

Before you can argue, his lips are on yours again. You let yourself melt into it, your hands reaching up to pluck the ridiculous tiara off his head and tossing it aside with a flick of your wrist.

His hair is soft under your fingers as you card through it, tugging lightly just to feel the way his body reacts, the way his kisses deepen in response.

When his tongue slides into your mouth, you surprise even yourself by wrapping your lips around it, sucking gently. You’re greedy and he loves it.

Javier’s grunt prompts your thighs to clench instinctively around him. His jacket hits the floor as he shrugs it off, lips trailing down your neck. You kick off your boots, his hands lifting you with ease to place you on the sturdy pool table.

Your sweater is gone before you know it. He’s in the middle of working on the button of your jeans, his fingers deft and impatient, when your eyes land on something that makes you freeze.

Or better yet, someone. There’s a figure slumped in one of the recliners at the far end of the room.

Your breath hitches, your body tensing. “Javi, stop.” Your words falter into a moan as his lips find your collarbone, sucking on your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, barely pausing as he tugs your pants down your hips. Despite yourself, you lift slightly to help him, even as you frantically nudge your head toward the recliner.

“There’s someone here,” you whisper.

He stops, his head snapping up to follow your gaze. His expression shifts into a frustrated scowl when he sees the figure sprawled in the chair. “Goddamnit,” he mutters, reluctantly pulling away from you and heading over to investigate.

You watch as he approaches, his boots heavy on the hardwood. It’s his cousin Danny, completely passed out, his head lolling to the side and his mouth hanging open. Javier whistles sharply, snapping his fingers in front of his face. Nothing. He gives his shoulder a firm nudge once, twice—still nothing.

“Out cold,” Javier says, his tone both annoyed and amused as he turns back to you. “Took down almost a whole bottle of tequila earlier. He’s not gonna bother us.”

You hesitate, your eyes darting to the unconscious form. The idea of hooking up with someone uninvited in the room feels... complicated… exhilarating, maybe? You’ve never done it before.

But your reluctance evaporates the moment Javier closes the distance between you again, his hands sliding your jeans clean off, leaving you in nothing but your mismatched bra and panties.

He drinks you in, and the rest of the party—including the slumped figure in the corner—melts away under the weight of his attention.

No words are needed, not when he roughly tugs the cups of your bra down, letting your breasts spill free, nor when he dips his head, his stubble grazing your skin as his warm mouth captures one of your nipples.

Your breath catches, back arching your breasts into his warm, wet mouth. His tongue lazily circles and flicks over the hardened bud. Then he sucks harder, pulling a drawn-out moan from you before switching to the other side.

You bite your lip, determined to stifle the sighs of pleasure threatening to break. His knocked out cousin in the corner keeps you cautious, even as your body aches to let go.

Javier notices. Always does. He pulls away with a pop, a thin string of saliva connecting his pouty lips to your nipple. “Nu-uh,” he chides. “Don’t hold back.”

“I’m not trying to wake him up,” you counter, though your voice wavers from how good his mouth felt.

“You won’t,” he replies, almost dismissively, giving you a peck on the lips before he drops to his knees before you. He starts at your calves, leaving slow, deliberate kisses that send sparks dancing along your skin.

The faint scrape of his facial hair adds to the wonderful torment as his mouth works its way up, switching from leg to leg.

When he reaches the inside of your right knee, he kisses it almost sweetly, before dragging his tongue slowly in a hot stripe up to your inner thigh. You can’t stop the small shiver that ripples through you, your hands gripping the edge of the pool table for balance.

Javier finally reaches your pussy and you shudder as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed clit. The heat of his breath and the firm pressure of his lips through the cotton of your panties makes your back arch.

He hooks a finger into the fabric and pulls it to the side, diving in immediately. His tongue parts your folds, curling and slithering against your pearly clit before moving lower.

“Fuck,” you sigh, your hips bucking involuntarily, pressing yourself harder against his mouth.

He groans, enjoying how reactive you are, his fingers digging into the soft meat of your thighs while he holds you firmly in place. His mouth works with a singular focus, his tongue swirling and dipping into your entrance, then sliding back up to flick over your clit.

The feeling of his stupid mustache makes it that much better, scratching at your cunt lusciously. 

You can’t help it now—a soft, keening moan slips out of you, echoing faintly in the dimly lit room. Your head lolls around on your shoulders as pleasure coils at the pit of your stomach, the tension winding tighter with each stroke of his tongue.

“That’s it,” he practically purrs. “Let me hear you.”

His lips seal around your clit, sucking gently, and you swear it feels like you’ve been possessed—holding back is impossible. Another moan escapes you, louder this time, your thighs shaking in his grip as he devours you.

Javi pushes you over the edge so effortlessly that a cry of his name spits out of your throat before you can stop it, cutting through the room.

You're grateful this area of the house is directed away from the backyard, where the party celebrating him outside continues on, oblivious of his absence as he indulges in you.

Your orgasm settles like a heavy current, fingers nearly going numb from holding on to the pool table for dear life.

You’re still disoriented and flustered when Javier stands, looming over you, cupping the back of your head and bringing you in to passionately make out.

His mouth is coated in your tangy essence, making you taste yourself as he slips his tongue down your throat.

You whimper, clawing at his chest for more and he pulls away to turn you around, manhandling you onto your stomach on the table.

His hands are firm yet impatient as he grips one of your legs by the back of your knee and hooks it over the edge of the wooden border.

Javi stares down at your sex, partially exposed and glistening for him. Your panties are askew, one swollen pussy lip peeking out while a dark, damp patch spreads over the cotton where his tongue had devoured you moments ago.

“Fuck.” The lewd sight has him hastily undoing his belt and popping the button on his jeans, his dick hard and ready to bury himself inside your sweet cunt. 

Propping yourself up on your palms, you glance back at him over your shoulder, a teasing, blissed out smile playing on your lips despite the burning heat between your thighs. “I figured you’d want to savor me. Wait for later…” you coo, rolling your hips and causing your ass to jiggle, feeling giddy at how his eyes zero in on the motion.

“I savor you all the time, baby. Even during these nasty, quick fucks.” Him saying that has you over the fucking moon. “You can’t expect me to wait knowin’ this pussy needs me to fuck her real good.”

The hand adorned with your golden bracelet grabs your supple ass, kneading the flesh before landing a stinging spank that makes you jolt and let out a cry. The sharp sound echoes, making your eyes flick nervously toward the recliner where his cousin still lies, unaware of the debauchery happening mere feet away.

Javier seems completely unbothered, casually toying with your panties as though you have all the time in the world. He hooks his finger into the soaked fabric, dragging it back and forth against your sticky folds, smearing your slick across your pussy lips.

Your hips move on their own, chasing the friction, and you bite your lip hard, trapping the needy moan building in your throat.

“Can I come over later?”

His question is so nonchalant it nearly makes you laugh, but the way he teases you has you too far gone to do so. You grind back against his touch, desperate for more, your lips parting in a breathy moan.

“Yes.” The thought of him showing up at your doorstep at three in the morning, bourbon on his lips, just for you to sink to your knees and take him down your throat makes your pussy clench around nothing, crying out for his cock as more of your arousal leaks against your panties. “Whenever.”

He hums in satisfaction, stepping closer and reaching for your jaw, tilting your head to the side roughly and meeting you for a kiss. The fabric of his shirt grazes your bare skin and he tugs your panties to the side again while his mouth continues to hold yours captive.

His cock nudges against your waiting entrance, teasing, the flushed head dragging over the fleshy cleft of your clit in languid taps.

When he finally pushes in, there’s no preamble—just the yummy stretch of him filling you to the fucking brim, shoving a strangled whine out of your mouth as he sets a brutal pace immediately, not giving you even a moment to adjust.

Your palms slip against the velvet of the pool table as you struggle to hold yourself up, but it’s no use. The force of his thrusts sends you collapsing forward onto your chest, scattering the neatly racked pool balls across the table.

They clatter and roll in all directions, but Javier doesn’t slow for a second. His grip on your waist tightens, forcing you to fuck yourself back on his dick.

“Shit,” he growls hoarsely, already breathless as he watches your ass bounce with every stroke. “You’re makin’ a loud fuckin’ mess,” he hisses, though there’s no real malice there—just straight horniness.

In one smooth motion, he grabs both your wrists with one large hand, pinning them to your lower back. He then angles your pelvis so that your clit is grinding against the smooth wooden border of the pool table while your tender nipples rub against the green felt.

The effects of that are immediate, your body feeling like it’s burning from the inside out. “Mmm, fuck yeah, keep doing that,” you moan desperately. 

The raunchy sound of your ass clapping against his thighs fills the room, a filthy rhythm accompanied by the feeling of his heavy balls brushing against your cunt. 

The noise feels impossibly loud, your whimpers and his grunts reverberating off the walls. Surely, his cousin will wake up—surely, someone will walk in on the shameless display Javier is putting on with your body.

Or maybe not, since Javier keeps fucking you all hot and wanton, especially when he hits your sweet spot and your ribbed, gushy walls hug around his dick like a vice.

Your forehead presses against the table as you chant his name, your vision swimming.

You try to glance toward the recliner where his cousin is passed out, but your eyes can’t focus. Everything’s a blur—two of everything, indistinct shapes swimming in the haze of your arousal.

The only thing you can truly focus on is Javier: the way his cock breaches your most intimate spaces, the heat of his body against yours, the sharp bite of his belt against the backs of your thighs.

You’re soaking him, ruining the hem of his half-buttoned shirt. But you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s splitting you open so perfectly, his tight grip on your wrists keeping you pinned and utterly open for him to take.

Your sore clit continues to rub against the smooth wood of the table, now sticky from how shamelessly you’ve been humping against it while chasing your pleasure.

Between the stimulation on your clit, the rough scrape of the felt against your tender nipples, and the relentless pounding of his shaft brushing your g-spot—it’s all too much. 

Your body trembles, a loud cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm slams into you.

"Javi!" you spasm in his hold, nails digging into your palms as your wrists remain trapped beneath his firm grip. shoulders burning from his rough hold.

Your pussy clamps hard around him, wet and creamy as you come, soaking his cock and leaving no doubt about how thoroughly he fucked you.

Javier curses through gritted teeth, switching between Spanish and English as he ruts into you, his rhythm stuttering. “Fuck, fresita, you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—just like that.”

He doesn’t falter, fucking you even as your orgasm settles over you like a heavy current.

He hauls you upright, pulling your back flush against his chest, his grip on your wrists unrelenting as he traps them between your bodies.

Both of his arms wrap tightly around your trembling frame, one hand sliding up to grab your tit, kneading it roughly while the other sprawls against your stomach and waist to hold you steady as he fucks up into you.

His mouth is at your ear now, his breath ragged. “Gonna bust inside this pretty pussy baby and you’re gonna let me, aren’t you?”

You nod weakly, biting down on your lip as your eyes flutter shut. “So fuckin’ willing to take my cum like a real slut,” the degrading name makes your clit twitch because he’s right—you are a real slut. Only for him. Always hungry and ready to please, to do anything to satisfy him and he knows it.

“You’re so goddamn perfect—fuck.” His hips jerk a few times before he groans deeply, his cock pulsing as he finishes deep inside you, his hold on your body tightening to the point where you wince but it hurts so good.

“What the fuck?”

The sharp voice cuts through the haze, yanking you back to reality. Your eyes snap open, and panic floods your system as you instinctively try to shield your almost-naked body.

Across the room, Danny sits up in the recliner, his hair a mess and his bleary eyes squinting in confusion. He looks like he’s been rudely yanked out of a drunken slumber, and unfortunately, it’s your fault.

Javier, of course, remains maddeningly calm. “Relax,” his voice still thick with that post-climax rasp as he mumbles in your ear.

Meanwhile, your body is burning—part embarrassment, part leftover heat from the sinful things Javier just did to you on this pool table.

You try to wriggle out of his grip, but his arms are like iron bands, keeping you firmly in place.

Danny rubs at his eyes, blinking hard as if trying to process what’s in front of him. His head tilts slightly, and for one horrifying second, you think he’s piecing it all together. But instead, he suddenly leans over the side of the recliner and starts retching, the sound loud and wet as he empties his stomach onto the carpet.

The sharp, acidic stench of vomit hits the air, mixing unpleasantly with the heady scent of sweat and sex. It’s enough to finally get Javier to loosen his hold.

He pulls out of you with a grunt, leaving you aching and exposed, and you both watch as his release starts to spill out of you, trickling over your swollen folds and dripping onto the table with obscene little plops.

But there’s no time to dwell on the mess. You scramble to grab your clothes, your movements frantic and clumsy as you yank your jeans up your legs and shove your arms into your sweater.

Javier’s doing the same, though far less hurried, like he’s still amused by the whole situation.

When you finally look up at him, his dark eyes are sparkling with mischief, and he throws you a roguish grin that almost makes you laugh despite yourself.

Danny, meanwhile, is still groaning and gagging, his face pale as a sheet. You feel a tiny pang of guilt, but before you can even think about offering help, Javier grabs your hand and tugs you toward the door.

“Aren’t you going to help him?” you whisper, trying to keep your voice low.

“Fuck no,” Javier replies without missing a beat. “Not my fault he couldn’t handle his liquor.”

He presses a kiss to the back of your hand, his lips warm and soft against your skin, and you can’t help but follow him.

You glance back over your shoulder as you’re being pulled toward the backyard, unable to stop yourself from throwing out a half-hearted, “Sorry!”

He doesn’t respond—he’s too busy dry heaving—but you and Javier are already sneaking out, stifling your laughter as the sounds of the party grow louder around you.

The music thrums through the air, its infectious rhythm pulling you in as your dance partner tightens his grip on your waist. His hands are firm, guiding you with confidence, but the musky cologne mixed with the sour tang of sweat is enough to make your nose crinkle if you focus too hard on it.

Still, you’re here out of spite, letting the sway of your hips speak louder than words as your body molds to his. The banda song carries you both across the makeshift dance floor, your movements fluid and natural as though the music itself has taken over.

Javier is just a few paces away, entangled with the curly-haired girl from earlier. His hands rest on her lower back, his body moving with ease. 

There’s a playful challenge in both of your eyes when your gazes finally meet, knowing how this little game of yours will end. 

Neither of you looks away, both determined to outdo the other, even in this small, ridiculous way.

Your dance partner spins you abruptly, breaking the moment. The move is smooth, you’ll give him that, and you find yourself face-to-face with him once again.

He’s not bad looking, honestly—sharp jawline, nice green eyes—but the cologne is killing the vibe, and his wandering hands are starting to push it.

Thankfully, the song winds to a close just as his fingers inch a little too far down your back. The music shifts, a different tune kicking in, and you step back, offering a polite smile as he thanks you for the dance.

“Got a number I can save?” he asks, hopeful and slightly cocky.

You grin, a little too sweetly, and rattle off your number without hesitation. You’ve got no intention of responding if he uses it, but you can’t resist the temptation to stir the pot. As he finally walks away, you feel it—a scorching stare burning into your back.

You don’t even have to look to know who it’s coming from.

“Baila conmigo.”

The familiar rasp of Javier’s voice cuts through the noise as he steps into your space. He takes a swig of his beer, his leather jacket gone, leaving him in just the white button-up that hugs his chest a little too well.

You cock a brow, crossing your arms. “What happened to your dance partner?”

“Sent her away,” he replies easily, his smirk infuriatingly smug. “Poor girl couldn’t catch the rhythm.”

You let out an amused huff, rolling your eyes. Of course, he’d say that. Before you can think better of it, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you toward la pista.

The moment you’re there, he pulls you flush against him, one large hand settling at your lower back while the other still clutches his beer. You fall into the simple two-step with ease, your bodies moving in perfect sync to the music. 

His thigh slots between yours, the friction sparking something electric, and you can’t help but press closer, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you.

“Reminds me of that night at the club,” his lips brushing your ear. It’s a miracle you can still hear him over the loud music. “When you finally let me get between those pretty legs.”

The heat in his words, combined with the faint scent of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath, floods your senses. He smells and feels like everything your last dance partner wasn’t.

Whistles and cheers ripple through the crowd as you and Javi throw yourselves into the rhythm of the song, your bodies moving like two parts of the same melody.

You hadn’t expected him to be such a good dancer the first time you shared a dance—not until that night at the club. 

And just like his dancing, the way he fucked you afterward had blown every expectation out of the water.

The song comes to an end, leaving you both flushed and slightly winded, sweat clinging to your skin despite the cool night air. The cheers die down as a new track begins, and Javi’s lips quirk into a lopsided grin.

“C’mon, give me another one,” he urges, his voice still rich and sensual despite the exertion.

You laugh, shaking your head as you step back, hands on your hips. You hadn’t planned to stay this long, and now your body is screaming for mercy. “Raincheck, handsome. I gotta head home.”

Javi’s grin falters slightly, but it doesn’t fade completely as your hand drifts down his chest, fingers savoring the firmness of his body.

His broad shoulders and toned frame are just so enchanting, and you can’t resist indulging one last time before grabbing his beer. You take a long, slow sip, your eyes flicking up to meet his as you drain the bottle and set it aside on one of the plastic fold-out tables.

“Not gonna stick around for the cake?” he asks, that boyish charm in his tone as he steps closer.

You flash him a flirty smile. “Save me a piece.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but the rowdy chaos of his friends and cousins cuts him off. They swarm him, loud and eager, tugging at his shoulders and shouting for him to take another shot.

He laughs, but his gaze finds yours through the crowd, his warm brown eyes locking on to you one last time.

“Enjoy, Javi,” you tell him with a wink. “You know where to find me.”

That familiar smirk is at his lips as he’s pulled toward the makeshift bar. You watch him for a moment before turning to make your departure.

You’re cutting across the lawn when you hear a voice behind you.

“Need a ride home?”

It’s the guy you danced with earlier, his cologne still potent even in the open air. His gentlemanliness would’ve been charming if it weren’t for the obvious expectation in his tone.

You decline politely, offering a quick smile before brushing past him and unlocking your car.

What you don’t realize is that Javi sees the entire exchange from afar. He’d caught the tail end of the guy trailing after you, his gaze narrowing as he watched you disappear into the sea of parked cars.

A flicker of irritation tugged at his expression, but he stayed rooted to his spot, letting his friends push another shot into his hand.

Instead of following, he threw himself into his own celebration, his laugh loud and boisterous as if he hadn’t seen a damn thing. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you leaving with that guy, and the glint in his eyes that had been so bright when you were there dulled just slightly. 

Still, he let it go, for now.

He knew exactly where to find you, after all.

“Oh my god,” you mewl, your back arching against the cold tile of your kitchen floor. Javier thrusts into you with a raw, animalistic need, his cock driving so deep inside you that it feels like he’s carving himself into your very being.

The absurdity of the situation is a bit funny—you’re still fully clothed, minus your sleeping shorts having been thrown haphazardly across the room, a stark contrast to earlier when you’d been bare and spread for him on that damn pool table.

Just as you predicted, he showed up at your door in the dead of night, his silhouette illuminated by the dim porch light. You’d barely made it to the door before his desperate, insistent knocking threatened to wake the entire block.  

It felt like he might break it down if you didn’t open it fast enough. Whoever dropped him off didn’t even wait to see if you’d answer.

No words were exchanged when you finally let him in. His brown eyes, dark and searing, did all the talking.

He’d cupped your face with one rough hand, the other holding a plate with aluminum foil covering it, precariously balancing it in his palm as he kissed you with an appetite that left you breathless.

You let him back you into the kitchen, setting the plate on the counter, his body crowding yours until there was nowhere left to go.

And now, here you are, legs spread wide, the weight of him pressing you down into the tiles, his jacket still on, smelling like beer and bourbon as he ruts himself against you.

“Givin’ your number out, huh?” he growls against your lips, his words dripping with bitterness. His hand snakes up to wrap around your neck, firm but not harsh, forcing your hazy eyes to meet his. You feel the subtle coolness of the bracelet against your skin and that only makes it better. “That’s all it takes, fresita? One fuckin’ dance?”

Each word is punctuated by a sharp, punishing thrust that has you gasping for air.

Your hands scramble at the back of his jacket, trying to find some sort of anchor while his dick fucks into you over and over, your slick cunt clamping helplessly around him.

If your brain wasn’t fogged with pleasure, you’d call him out on his jealousy, tease him for letting something so trivial get under his skin. At least you were better about hiding it.

But god, it’s too fucking hot—seeing him like this, so undone, so unhinged, all because of you.

Javier, the man who always carries himself with that cool, confident swagger, who never seems to let anything faze him, is now losing his composure right here on your kitchen floor.

And all it took was watching some other guy’s attention on you to make him snap. If anyone is picky and spoiled here—it’s him.

“Answer me,” he demands, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to leave you lightheaded, his thrusts never faltering. His free hand grabs at your thigh, spreading you even wider for him, the angle forcing you to experience every inch of him.

“I—it was nothing,” you manage to cry, though your words are almost incoherent as he’s driving into you. “Javi, I—”

“You what?” he interrupts with a curt laugh, his teeth grazing the underside of your jaw before he bites down gently, making you squirm beneath him. “You think I’m gonna let you walk around, lettin’ some asshole think he’s got a chance with you?”

The thought alone seems to fuel him further, his movements growing rougher and you swear you’re on the edge of unraveling.

And as he watches the way your body responds to him—your nails digging into his back, your moans turning into screams—he knows he’s making his point loud and clear. 

Javi’s grip around your throat tightens, cutting off your breath just enough to stimulate you. The pressure makes you feel lightheaded, and somehow, impossibly, even more turned on.

“He can’t fuck you like I can,” he grinds against you, his coarse and damp pubic hairs bristling against your sensitive clit, the friction of it almost too much. “No one can.” His face hovers so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your lips.

Your mouth falls open on instinct, tiny, wheezy moans spilling out as his nose brushes against yours.

Javier’s dark eyes feel like they’re boring straight into your soul, gleaming with hunger as he watches your every twitch, every little surrender. He leans in and kisses you all demanding and vehement. 

His lips claim yours like he’s trying to eat you whole, his tongue slipping inside to taste every gasp you give him.

“Listen to that,” he murmurs mockingly as he pulls back just enough to let his gaze drop between your bodies, watching your pussy swallow his cock. “Just listen to how wet you are, baby. Think he could ever make you sound like this?”

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment—and arousal—as the obscene, sloppy sounds of his length plunging into you fill the air, amplified by his words. The drive of his hips is merciless, each stroke drawing you closer with dizzying precision.

Your nails dig into his forearms, bending your body beneath him as your vision starts to be blotched with white spots.

You can feel it, the winding of your orgasm at your core pulling taut, about to burst. When it finally does, your pussy flutters and squeezes as waves of smoldering intensity crash over you.

“Puta madre,” he snarls, his head falling back from how good it feels to have you come around him.

Pulling out, Javier pins you down with his weight to keep you from squirming away. His cock, flushed, drooling, and shiny with your juices, hovers inches from your face as you lay flat on the floor.

Your swollen lips part instinctively, the scent of your own headiness making your mouth water.

“Tongue out, baby,” he commands, his voice rough but coaxing.

You obey, sticking your tongue out lazily, your half-lidded eyes locked onto his. The sight of you like this—wrecked, pliant, and waiting for him—is enough to undo him completely. His hand pumps his cock, the golden accessory on his wrist jolting with each move. 

With a low, rasping groan, he spills over you, thick, hot ropes of cum splattering across your face and tongue.

You moan softly, savoring the warmth, licking your lips and swallowing whatever lands in your mouth. The taste of him leaves your tongue and throat buzzing, and you revel in the messy intimacy of it.

He uses his fingers to wipe the remnants of his release from your cheeks, then pushes them into your mouth without hesitation.

“Suck,” he orders, and you comply, wrapping your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue over them with eager enthusiasm. You get carried away, your tongue flicking and sucking greedily, and he chuckles darkly.

“Jealousy looks good on you,” you can’t help but tease, your voice carrying amusement as you both come down from the dazed fucking.

Javier sways a little, his inebriation finally catching up to him. He stumbles, but he steadies himself smoothly, like the world itself wouldn’t dare let him fall.

He wipes a hand down his face before meeting your gaze, still kneeling on the floor. “Not a fan of people playin’ with what’s mine,” he says, the statement edged with that possessiveness he tries to pretend isn’t there.

Usually, a line like that would have you rolling your eyes and telling the guy to take his ego down a notch. But with Javier? You don’t mind. At all. Something about the way he says it—like it’s a fact, not an opinion—makes your stomach flip in the worst (or best) way possible.

“Yours?” you challenge, sitting up on your forearms and arching a brow at him. “I thought this was casual.”

“It is,” he says without missing a beat, bringing his fingers up to caress the side of your face, more calm and sure, like he’s completely unaware of how contradictory his behavior is.

You narrow your eyes slightly, refusing to let him off the hook that easily despite melting under his touch. “Casual hookups don’t go into a frenzy after watching the other dance and flirt with someone else.”

He doesn’t even flinch at your words, doesn’t even bother to defend himself. Instead, he smirks—because of course he does—and stretches his arms over his head like the entire conversation is nothing but a minor inconvenience to him.

He straightens up stands, extending a hand to you, his palm open and inviting, the gold band of the bracelet glinting in the low light.

You let him pull you up and let out a sound of exertion, your muscles still a little tense from rolling around on the hard floor with him.

“Dance, flirt with whoever you want. When I want you, I’m gonna have you.”

That’s possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. “That so?” You try to sound unimpressed, but your voice betrays you, just the tiniest bit giddy.

“That’s so,” he concedes vaingloriously. “Don’t forget who makes you feel like this satisfied.”

As if I could ever. “Cocky bastard,” you mutter, but the words lack any real bite.

He leans in, kissing you gently, then his voice drops into that deep, velvety murmur that makes your pussy tingle. “Yet you keep coming back.”

You don’t respond because, let’s face it, he’s not wrong. Especially not when he pairs those words with ana affectionate kiss.

Instead, you finally roll your eyes, the most predictable move in your arsenal, and step around him to grab your discarded sleeping shorts.

Sliding them back on, you make your way to the counter, where the lonely styrofoam plate of half-smashed birthday cake waits for attention. Without a word, you pull it closer, grab a fork, and dig in.

Javier watches you with a grin still plastered across his face, leaning his hip against the counter. “Didn’t even offer the birthday boy the first bite, huh? Real cold.”

You stab a piece exaggeratedly, lifting it to your mouth, and chewing slowly, giving him a look that says cry about it.

But when you see the faint pout pulling at his lips—a deliberate act, no doubt—you sigh, scoop up another forkful, and hold it out. “Fine. Even though technically it’s not your birthday anymore.”

He leans in, not breaking the eye contact, and takes the bite straight from the fork, his lips brushing the tines with an unnecessary amount of flair.

You swear he’s showing off, but you don’t call him out on it, not when he groans softly in appreciation and you can’t help but admire him like this, playful and flirty in your kitchen.

“Feliz cumpleaños, Javi,” you say after a moment, softer now.

He swallows, his smirk shifting into something a little more genuine as he meets your gaze. “Gracias, fresita.”

For a moment, the air between you shifts—gentler, almost intimate. Then he reaches for the fork still in your hand and steals another bite, flashing you a look that drags you right back to reality.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @penascigarette . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz .

[sneakyxthexclown]

Oh goodness here we go...

I don't think I've ever actually shared this online before. Now, many of my mutuals/followers are around now because my blog has become completely about the hellaverse, and I plan to keep it that way for a while. BUT my blog actually used to be all about the anime Hunter x Hunter. It's one of my fave anime of all time, and it's actually the reason why I created a Tumblr.

During peak covid times, my sister showed the first few episodes to me, and, damn, was I obsessed--not only with the plot but also with one of my favorite gay ships of all time. So my sister told me to get a Tumblr.

When it came to choosing my account name, I wanted it to be based on hxh because that was all I thought about at the time. Now, for those who don't know the show, the episode titles all have Xs between the words (e.g., the first episode is called "Departure x And x Friends.") I liked the aesthetic of it and wanted it in my handle.

Now, as for "sneaky the clown," I was immediately drawn to the character Hisoka (again, for those who don't know, just think of him as a magical clown villain who can also be a bit of an...iconic silly). I adored his character design, I thought his playing cards looked cool, and I'm a sucker for a villain. Now, "Hisoka" is Japanese for "secret." I chose another word that was close to that, which was sneaky. Hisoka dresses like a clown, so that's where the clown part came from (although, I will admit, I am a bit of a clown tbh).

Or, as my bio reads: I'm a clown and I'm sneaky

Not sure if any of my hxh mutuals/followers are still around given that I created this account close to five years ago now, but if you are, kudos to you for sticking with me through the countless hyperfixations I've had over the years.

I tag: @hyperfixed-owl @sircarebearalot @warblogs17282 @lost-romantique @loserschmoozer

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec frenzy

Hi everyone, after a little bit of a break I'm back for 2025 with a new rec post of fic that I've read and loved over the last month! Delighting in the hiatus spec fic, thank you to all the authors for making winter hibernation so much fun. As always you can find previous rec lists here.

25 January 2025

like a lonely seabird by organyx is a 55k one shot that picks up directly from the buddie realtor scene, with Buck spiralling and Eddie trying to follow his heart and find joy, just with a bit of a push to get there. It's beautifully characterised, and a rollercoaster spanning to El Paso and back again, with vital conversations. With excellent teenage Chris characterisation and inclusion. There's a call mishap that had me gasping, and an amazing coming together with mutual understanding. Gorgeous, romantic and satisfying!

if you like it weird, i like it strange by @pairofraggedclaws I am definitely a greedy reader of everything Lou writes! These stories have such a fun indulgent and sexy writing style and the way Buck and Eddie get hot under the collar is incredibly enticing. Here we see them have some fun with orgasm control and a dream inspired fantasy of Buck's set at work. And in the equally gorgeous TRUST! we have Eddie who is particularly sensitive and insecure about it, however Buck has a fantastic time showing him just how they can work with it in their favour. It's a lovely fic that shows partnership and play in a both heartwarming and hot dynamic that suits them so well.

The Whale Fall Principle by @fastcardotmp3 another author whose work I've been delighting in, The Whale Fall Principle is an alternate timeline fic in which Daniel Buckley survives childhood, and it shifts the dynamics of the Buckley siblings forever. Daniel takes on some of the Buck we know and loves escapism needs, he's the one who travels to find himself, whilst Buck is left behind with the sense of responsibility and pressure of being the saviour baby, meanwhile Maddie is trying to keep her brothers together in her life. Eddie is simply trying to understand Buck and where he fits in to their lives. This is such a beautiful, thoughtful, heartbreaking and uplifting fic. I could talk about it for hours. And I also loved:

carefully, I was going to live by fastcardotmp3 - in which Buck finds out about Eddie's will after the shooting....but not from Eddie. Thrust into guardianship, he finds his way with Chris, whilst grieving for his best friend who is in a coma....but after two years, Eddie is waking up, and for him, no time has passed at all. Told in dual POV, each alternate chapter explores Eddie's perspective from two years on and pairs it with Buck's from the time Eddie slips away from him, and eventually, they meet in the middle. It's complicated and full of love, hurt and healing.

paving hell with energy by Elgney ahhhh an 8b spec fic that fits with MY 8b spec re the serial killer based on that trailer...'Buck is having a hard time dealing with Eddie's impending move to El Paso and resorts to some Buck 1.0-style coping mechanisms. Unfortunately for everybody, this backfires in spectacular fashion. Especially for Eddie, who waited until now to realize he was in love with his best friend.' Heed trigger warnings, but I love the sibling dynamics with Buck and Maddie here, and the way the author has nailed the character voices in the 118 banter. Dark and twisty!

Where the Light Enters by @beecauseevan is SUCH a beautifully written and heartfelt story dealing with Eddie's religious trauma. 'Chris is 800 miles away, and Eddie's house feels emptier than ever. As always, Buck is right there, ready to have his back, to catch him without hesitation if he falls...This is fine, until it isn't. Until Eddie finds himself drawn to Buck in ways he never expected—ways that might not be so new at all.' I'm in awe of the way the narrative threads weave together and peel back the layers to let the light into Eddie's story. This one has so much vulnerability, it was healing to read.

and longingly i long by @effervescentwolf explores established relationship Buddie and a touch starved Buck, who craves being held and touching and revelling in the physicality of their love. And Eddie, who he learns feels similarly. I love how the craving and need is written here, it's powerful and sympathetic, and the eventual communication and asking for what you want unfolds so well.

Death Becomes Him by @kungfunurse was such a cool way of examining the 118 (and Buck specifically's) many brushes with death! 'Each time Buck dies, something in him changes. After all, every change is a sort of death, and death is the ultimate change. Or, what does the supernatural look like in the "real world"?' Such a clever character examination, like Buck's lightning math superpowers on acid! And how it affects those closest to him, and his developing relationship with Eddie, with some questions answered and some left to linger enticingly.

A Life For A Life by icewhisper RAVIIIIIII! 'The first time Ravi met Evan Buckley, he never got his name. He only knew him as the man who pulled him onto a firetruck during a tsunami before he jumped back into the water after his son. Five years later, in a collapsed building, it’s Buck who needs saving and Ravi gets a chance to return the favor.' An excellent team based call gone wrong fic, this is Buddie in the background with Ravi and Buck friendship at heart, and it's fantastic hurt/comfort fic. Ravi beloved.

Next to your heartbeat, where I should be by @rainbow-nerdss in which Buck sends Eddie an accidental dick pic, and then through their resulting texts Eddie realises the power of exchanging photos as a means of self love and self esteem boosting to reclaim and celebrate his body...so pic exchanges ensue...totally platonically of course. This is sexy and silly and so much fun, the oneupmanship is hilarious and hot, and as their inhibitions drop...so do their pants.

the sweetest apparition by @hyruling in which 'Eddie moves to Texas. Buck keeps accidentally telling people Eddie's dead. It goes about as well as you'd expect.' I died laughing and then swooned and then cackled, and then cried, and it was all so wonderful. Crack treated seriously, this is one for anyone who is a fan of Buck's perpetual foot in mouth syndrome.

I'll be back next month with my next round of recs, happy reading everyone! 40 days until 8b!

[he3ts]

LOSE CONTROL

pairings: nam gyu x reader

warnings: porn, no plot, smut, dom and sub dynamics, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, nam gyu calls reader "venus"

You were the sun and he was the midsummer rain. A verse, a poem, the cursed earth, a breath too short. The organs, the heart, the brain, then nothingness. You were created by the universe to make mistakes, but be flawless in your sinful destiny, finally flourish and live all from the original state.

A demon who fed on the happiness of others, to the point of fainting, hiding part of your face behind a dry smile. You had been planning revenge for years, months and days, and who was he to calm you down?

Beautiful Hollywood brought delirium, a bad place, where the devil took every soul and abused its fame. Where a million simply wasn't enough to be happy, where life was glitzy, exaggerated, an environment so different from his neighborhood and his group of friends.

You had planned everything in your head, every encounter, as if your love had died, but it was alive, like a flame, extinguishing it almost impossible. You were pain, a reptile dressed as a human being, he could still want you. He could fully understand you, he had no intention of betraying his politics, and you were.

He could not tell if you were happy, sad or just too high at that time. Worthless memories were inside his head, it was that time of the year where the temperature exceeded human endurance and tempers were getting more and more agitated between you.

"Loita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: The tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth"

So went Vladimir Nabokov in the opening of his most famous work, delicate with every word that adorned that page by the author's desire. He often asked himself that question, practicing over and over again the stage name he gave you: Venus. There was nothing hard about that word; it came out of his throat like nothing and stuck to his heart.

Smiling like an infant, he touched a page of the book, settling his body on the bed. Flipping through the pages, one by one, he had been completely thunderstruck by Nabokov's raw, yet flowing writing. You had recommended it to him to the point of exhaustion.

Like a daydream, you had arrived next to him, lying on the bed. You giggled to yourself, moving the book from his hands, crossing your legs taking a deep breath.

“Lolita, light of my life,” you had recited, crawling on the bed in front of his four-legged body. You had a generous cleavage, your immaculate neck, perfect and free, wrapped in a necklace. He saw you radiant, a bright smile, hips in the air. He looked again at your dry face, a feeling of longing crossed his stomach “You disturbed my reading, Venus"

You had tilted your head toward him. "Am I disturbing?" you huffed like a feline, continuing to crawl toward him. "You're hurting me, honey"

Nam Gyu had looked away, biting his lip, he looked at you with eyes filled with desire as you ran a hand through your hair, "I know your intentions" You had smiled, that smile that led to no good.

You were close enough to slide down his legs, he had patted your side as he settled you more securely. "My intentions? Don't you want to?" your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers wrapped in his long hair, you swiped your nose against his jaw in total bliss. He, as an answer, placed a kiss next to your collarbone, he had heard you moan, smiled devilishly.

"Venus"

"Liar" a second kiss under your ear, "just a liar"

"You are out of control-"

But his words were interrupted as you had leapt forward, pressing your lips against his. Almost out of spite. A point of no return. His eyes went wide as your soft lips opened against his, licking them uncontrollably.

Had he shrunk so miserably just for your affection?

"Lie down, now," he added, still attached to your lips. You had slid your body onto the bed, watching as he positioned himself better over your hips, your breasts practically protruding from your low-cut T-shirt were a deep temptation for him.

You had mumbled sloppy words against his lips. You could no longer stop seeking his affection.

"Shut up, little girl," his hand clung to your neck, and before you could protest, your lips were already attached for a second time. He had smiled.

"My Venus" you had felt his hand grab your breast, groping it through your shirt. “You make me unstabl"

The dirty words that came out of his mouth excited you in the strangest way. You were a mess of emotions as verses of pleasure spilled from your throat. You had begun to move your hips against his, then shift your pelvis. "Venus" had closed her eyes, but opened them again a moment later.

"What?" more movements, you were trying to torture him in the slowest way possible "Don't try to get out of it now"

"Fuck you, woman" he gripped your hair in the palm of his hand, bringing your foreheads together, "What do you want me to say?"

Silence. Pause. Endless.

Then you had squealed as his other hand grabbed your fabric-covered breast, inviting you to talk to him, "N-not much. The truth. I'm more interesting than that book, right?"

You had bitten your lip, your heart began to beat at an accelerated rate, "Well?" he asked, wanting to kick the words out of your mouth

"Do you need attention?" he added, "I can't give it to you if you don't talk to me" he stroked your cheek.

"Yes, I need you," you had stammered to a second wave of pleasure. By the time his intent was much clearer, you were already lost, he lowered his head, licking your jaw as your hands slid down his waist, crumpling the edges of his T-shirt.

You were quick at anything, and soon your shirts along with your bra were over like a sheet on that cold floor. You had leaned forward, whimpering as his hands moved over your hard nipples. "It's not fair," he murmured, "you're so beautiful"

You were blushing, which was absolutely rare, hearing those innuendos from him was always a great honor. "Then undress me" you had no more shame, Nam Gyu giggled then making your chests match as one skin.

"Um," he mumbled, as he kissed your jaw, "I'll do it even without your orders"

He hooked his thumbs around the button of your pants, making them snap, your pretty underwear poking out from underneath. Your cheeks burned as he removed your jeans, sliding them to the floor. Only your panties separated him from his intent, and another scream came from your throat as Nam Gyu began to press his lips against your legs. Your long, smooth legs walked one in front of the other, slowly advancing toward his mouth.

"These panties need to come off" he murmured, humming against your legs. "I want to see you"

His right hand ran along your smooth belly. Your left hand had moved against his long locks, playing with them as you arched your back with each miserable shudder.

"Nam Gyu"

This was his first wake-up call, as you emitted an amused giggle, he was sliding your panties further and further down. Your naked core was dripping, wet. He had never experienced such feelings before, you were giving him a set of pleasures all at odds.

From passion, to love.

"Stop teasing me" you had turned red again, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. "I want your touch, properly"

"Do you want it?" he asked, sliding his thumb and forefinger inside your opening. You felt so pathetic when you had managed to murmur that slight "yes"

Having him so dominant over you was driving you crazy, alternating the chemistry in your brain. You had smiled again as his hand crept between your legs. Your pussy trembled as he ran his fingers between your wet folds, unexpectedly your hands clung to the sheets as your body trembled with bliss. Irregular breaths escaped your lips, moaning his name, smiling. He ran delicate fingers along your vortex.

Circles on your clitoris, sliding up and down through the growing wetness. He gave himself momentum, giving you a kiss on the lips, his fingers still inside your womanhood. You felt your stomach turn over. Immense pressure formed inside you, growing as his fingers were like snakes inside. Pleasure ran from your head to your feet; he pinched and rolled your nipple between his teeth. Everything felt so good, you almost wanted to scream.

"Venus"

Your nickname whispered like that sent you over the edge; you had responded with a moan. Only moans muffled by breaths. Erotic moans and dirty talk echoed through the room. You trembled violently, his hands rubbing incessantly and touching your clitoris as you came. Pleasure exploded inside you, pouring ecstasy and juices all over his hand.

Your body went limp, sweating and trembling from the intense orgasm that racked you. The traces of pleasure still made your clitoris tingle with excitement. He rubbed his hand over your stomach, leaving a small trail of your masterpiece against your skin.

But you weren't finished. And he couldn't get enough. You were still exhausted heavy breathing, but you had turned your roles so fast that he was paralyzed by it. Now it was him lying there, black hair splayed on the pillow with half-closed eyes, gripping your hips with possession.

Your wet intimacy was like an ointment against his cock, he sighed as he looked down at you, your hair in front of your exposed tits coming out of your bra, and your shirt lifted over your hips. You had sagged against him, applying pressure by crawling back and forth, "I can't take it anymore, Venus"

You were straddling his legs with the dirtiest intent, with him only wanting to have his lips on your skin.

"I'll take care of you, Nam Gyu" you had murmured against his ear, kissing his neck. You had grabbed his boxers only to slide them down further and further. Your eyes never left his.

He thought he was going crazy as he watched you wide-eyed, wrapped you around the base of his veiny cock and pumped you a few times, his inebriated gaze watching every inch of your perfect, imperfect body. You had slid your hands from his neck down to his chest, sighing when you had felt your palms ignite with each touch between our intimacies.

“Fucking bitch,” he managed to say before gripping you tightly, dragging your swollen, glistening lips against his, a light touch that ignited every internal organ. He understood no more as you hopped on his stomach like a bunny, your lips glued together. You could feel his cock stretching and filling every part of you; he grabbed your bottom insistently, rage. His face smothered in the pillow, he didn't like that, he had always enjoyed dominating you instead. A giggle had escaped you, your hips bobbing up and down and your stomach in turmoil.

"You like that?"

"I like you," he grunted at you, before completely losing control.

“I need you,” he whispered in your ear, you still had his member inside when he reached his limit. You had always needed him.

MASTERLIST.

[tpwk-formula1]

2K Special Masterlist

Here is the sneak peak to what you have to look forward to once I hit 2K followers! Before we get into the goodies I want to take a second to thank each of you so much for bringing this blog to life and reading and interacting with my stories! I started this blog because I decided to throw on a race last May… Who knew watching Lando winning his first race would change the entire direction of my life. I have never been chill about my love for F1 and while it has been under a year of me being a fan I have grown up around motorsports my whole life. Anyways enough with the sappiness I am just so thankful! 

I am trying to make my blog more interactive and while I love my pizza menu creating an entire fic from plot to porn to aftercare it can become too much so I am starting new AUs so while I am working on requests I can still make sure to keep you fed! Here are the introductions to the new universe here at Lee-Lee’s!

*Means once the first fic is posted they are open for requests to start building the AU! I also wrote in the TW what their hashtag will be so you can find all the requests for each on there! If I haven’t marked one of your favorites let me know and if there is enough of you guys interested I will add them! I want to keep it to only a few at first so I can keep each AU active

Porn Star! Carlos X Innocent! Reader*

Plot: Y/N is your average university student studying abroad in Spain for a few semesters when she stumbles across a Spanish speaking porn star. While her spanish was far from perfect she could understand his dirty talk clear as day. She can’t help her little panties getting soaked. Once she had exhausted his Twitter to it’s fullest she breaks down and buys herself the top subscription to his Only Fans. She’s quiet and lurks in the distance but as she grows more desperate for the beautiful man she grows more bold. Somehow one thing leads to another and she’s on a call with Carlos begging to cum for him.

Sneak Peak:

“You’re not cumming until I get my hands on you”

TW: First Orgasm, CORRUPTION, loss of virginity… #porn star! carlos

Tattoo Artist! Lewis X Piercer! Reader*

Plot: Lewis has trained Y/N to be the perfect piercer but when his thoughts start turning unprofessional he can’t help himself to a new piercing… 8 to be exact. Y/N had completed several genital piercings in her time as a piercer but never has it been on someone she knew so personally so when her boss grows hard under her touch she can’t help but turn the relationship a bit unprofessional.

Sneak Peak:

“Yes 8 each spaced an inch apart” 

TW: Body Modifications, oral, pleasure dom! Lewis… #tattoo artist! lewis

Virgin! Oscar X PR! Manager Reader

Plot: Oscar could admit being a 23 year old virgin was a bit insane but in his defense he was to focussed on racing to be thinking about girls, but when he meets his new PR manager who has quickly become like a second mom despite the close age. After a drunk confession Y/N makes it her new mission to teach Oscar all things women and sex!

Sneak Peak:

“Osc, you don’t have to be so gentle”

TW: Sex lessons (all sex basics), Sub! Oscar

Charles X Pay for Sex! Reader

Plot: After his recent break up with his long term girl friend Charles can’t help himself but start looking on some shady websites. When he finds a “pay for sex” site curiosity got the best of him and when he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on he couldn’t not book himself a night. When he realizes he could purchase her for an extended stay he quickly writes her our an email with an attached deposit. After some communication she is fully prepared for her weekend in Monaco

Sneak Peak:

“Cumming already? God you’re never gonna want to leave”

TW: Free Use

Pierre X Tori X Max*

Plot: When Tori finally admits to her boy friend Pierre that their sex life was rather shit what she least expects is for him to come back a few days later with some grand plan. The plan in question is having a threesome… with another man, and not just any man but his teammate Max Verstappen. Y/N is even more shocked walking into Max’s apartment to find out he had a sex dungeon. A room he designed and built with the sole purpose of exploring all kinds of kinks.

Sneak Peak:

“We have a list of kinks we’re going to try tonight”

TW: Bondage, Sex Toys, Double Penetration, Edging, Multiple Orgasms

Lando X Luisha X Reader*

Plot: Lu and Y/N have been childhood best friends and on occasions more than friends. The two girls had shared their first kiss with each other, and some of their other first while they were in their later teens but when Lu started dating Lando it all kind of stopped. But after a nasty fight between Lando and Lu, Lu seeks the affection from her best friend. From then it became sneaky kisses, flirty comments, and far more sleepovers than the average 25 year old girls. When Lando catching them in the act they fear everything is about to crumble, but to their shock his only rule for their new dynamic was he got to join the fun sometimes.

Sneak Peak:

"I'm not mad, just sad I wasn't invited"

TW: wlw, Cheating, threesome… #Poly! Lando 

Oscar X Bookwarm! Reader

Plot: Y/N is your typical book worm. She reads all types of books from classics, to thrillers, and even self help books but when she gets a hyper fixation on spicy romance novels she can’t help the dirty thoughts running through her head. On what she thought was a private call she admits to her best friend that a part of her wished Oscar fucked her the way some book boyfriend fuck, but didn’t know how to bring it up to him since she was already satisfied in bed and didn’t want to hurt her longterm boyfriend feelings. 

Sneak Peak:

“Go on, read it to me”

TW: Oral, rough sex

Frat Boy! Lando X Sorority President! Reader*

Plot: Y/N and Lando have been friends since their freshman year at the University of Alabama where they met while pledging for their respective house. Their friendship grew quick and while they had their share of intimate moments throughout the year it takes one beginning of the year party for everything to change.

Sneak Peak:

"Fuck, I've been waiting for this"

TW: Cross faded sex… #Frat! Lando

Retired! Sebastian X Eloise! Driver*

Plot: When Eloise Harris was announced as the newest rookie to the 2025 grid after Checo was essentially fired she was completely stunned when her manager called her to let her know that her childhood hero is asking if she had a mentor. As the season is set to begin Sebastian comes up with the bright idea of having a reward and punishment system. While it started with small gifts or extra workouts it eventually started to morph into something more taboo.

Sneak Peak:

“Been such a good girl all weekend”

TW: Dom/Sub, Edging, Spanking

Gabriel X Older! Reader*

Plot: Y/N Norris is Lando’s twin sister and works for Mclaren in their stategry department. When she meets their development driver who will be joining Kick Sauber at the end of the season, she can’t help but notice the blushing cheeks or the wandering eyes of the young boy. When she comes across his Raya account she got curious and ended matching with him. That’s when sneaky meet ups and quickies start to become a regular occurrence. 

Sneak Peak:

“Shit! That wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m so sorry”

TW: Quickies, Secretive, Caught… #Rookie! Gabi

Single Dad! Kimi R X Nanny! Reader*

Plot: When the newly divorced Kimi realizes he needs some extra help during race weekends when his ex wife decides to runaway with some French model leaving him to raise their 3 year old twins on his own. When his teammate suggest getting a nanny the two of them search for the perfect nanny who is qualified enough to take care of 2 young toddlers. When they found Y/N they knew she was perfect. It was almost instant that Kimi knew having a woman like Y/N was going to be far harder than he realized. He assumes his quiet demeanor is covering his track but Y/N finds the cameras in her room almost instantly.

Sneak Peak:

“Kimi, I know you’ve been watching me at night”

TW: Stalking… #Single Dad! Kimi

CEO! Toto X Assistant! Reader*

Plot: When Toto hires Y/N he had no idea the lowkey bootcamp she was going to turn the Mercedes garage into. She took over some of Toto’s smaller jobs like making sure the new stylist was picking appropriate clothing for the boys or making sure their nutritionists where feeding them enough food. But when she starts assisting Toto with more personal things a quite unprofessional relationship starts to develop. 

Sneak Peak:

"Get on your knees under my desk"

TW: Sensual… #CEO! Toto

Nico H X Ollie’s Older Sister! Olivia*

Plot: Nico first noticed Olivia around the paddock pretty early into the season but when she showed up in the Haas garage with Oliver Bearman it takes him roughly 5 seconds to realize she was the older sister. Nico couldn’t help his wandering eye or the way Y/N is almost always looking in his direction when his eyes find her. When they both end up plastered in Vegas their next actions completely change the direction of their future.

Sneak Peak:

“I’m fucking screwed, Nico!”

TW: Pregnancy, Drunk Sex.... #Dad! Nico

Team Principal! Daniel X Rookie Horner! Reader*

Plot: When Max Verstappen announced his retirement at the end of the 2025 season due to his beautiful daughter being born Red Bull Racing was faced with the challenge of who will replace the 4X World Champion. After a long debate the settled on Y/N Horner the oldest daughter of Christian Horner. Red Bull knew he could no longer be the Team Principal so who better to replace Christian than Daniel Ricciardo, former Red Bull driver. Y/N and Daniel almost instantly start butting heads. He thinks she’s too cocky and was only handed her seat while she was on a mission to prove her boss wrong and keep her seat. She would do anything to keep her seat.

Sneak Peak:

“Oh come on princess, P6 isn’t good enough to cum”

TW: DUB CON! Coercion… #Team Principal! Daniel

2024 F1 Grid X Paddock Bunny! Reader (requests are always open for the Paddock Bunny Series)

Plot: Y/N Brown has been with the majority of the guys on the grid by now but when they get the bright idea of renting out a sex club she gets to bounce from room to room exploring an intimate moment with each driver and their favorite kinks.

Sneak Peak:

"Get ready for a long night, Bunny"

TW: Gang Bang, Toys, Rough, Breeding

[tododeku-or-bust]

https://www.tumblr.com/tododeku-or-bust/744837858426339328/yes-nonblack-people-can-reblog-id-appreciate

i apologise if i come off as rude and i know it’s not black fans’ responsibility to educate white fans. but as a white fan, what do you think white fans can do to fight racism in fandom spaces? because even when i stumble upon something that reads to me as racist, i don’t know if it’s my wrong interpretation as a white person and if i should say something or be quiet. /gen

I have a reblog in that post that answers this question, but that post is now at least 150k strong with only half really getting the point and I'm not scrolling that long so 😅 I'll just say it again.

(the post was about BLACK PEOPLE. So I'm going to discuss antiblackness, bc that's who I was talking to)

1. Actually share community with Black people!

Half the reason people "don't see" antiblackness when it's happening is because you're not around any Black people in your fandoms to begin with. So when you see what is inevitably racism, you probably dismiss it as "drama" because that's what the racists (!) around you are framing it as. If you actually saw the responses from the party being wronged, you'd learn what to look out for when it happened. And even if you weren't confident, someone that IS confident could use the support- bc they're gonna be far meaner to that Black fan than they'll ever be to you! But ofc you don't see racism when there are conveniently no Black people around you to point it out. Bc trust, there is no fandom space- no space period- free of it. So... Try listening to the Black people that ARE in your spaces! Support their voices, so that you can start fighting that fight on your own!

2. Think about how much antiblackness you let slide, and try to be active about not doing so!

One of the hardest things for me to swallow is not usually the OG racist poster, but the thousands of people who usually agree with them, and then the tens of thousands of others who might not agree, but continue to support that person otherwise because antiblackness is not a deal breaker for them! You might think you're a friend to Black people, but based off the people you hang around... probably not! And we see that!

So you'll watch someone be mask-off antiblack, but "oh their art is so good though" or "but I love their LGBTQ/fandom takes" yeah okay so I see that I am not a part of the safe community that you value or picture, got it.

You have to actually ask yourself, consistently- because antiracism is an active thing, it's decisions you make- "is this thing I'm participating in worth the antiblackness I'm allowing?" Sometimes you're gonna say yes. But if you find yourself saying "yes" far more often than you're saying "no", it's time to admit that you're not being antiracist 😅 and if that identity actually means anything to you, you'll have to start making some better choices!

So, is this person's cool art worth them being a whitewasher? Is this video game series worth the creators being racist? Is this musical worth the racist stereotypes it's perpetuating? Is this person's otherwise cool politics worth them treating Black people like shit? Is being seen as a racist worth keeping me safe in this fandom (that would treat me horribly if I didn't? Are they really my community, then?)? Is my temporary entertainment worth more than someone's humanity?

I think when we choose to be honest with ourselves, and are willing to ask ourselves questions like that, we might recognize just how much control we have over our own racism, and at least how we can minimize our own harm. Bc you can only control you! And you don't have to do or allow the things you allow!

3. Call it out!

I don't think everything warrants a call out. But, sometimes y'all got to be willing to say "hey, this isn't cool, dude". The whole "1 Nazi, 9 patrons, 10 Nazis" thing. I have a post about it somewhere on the CBC page 😭 But yeah. Sometimes things will be right in y'alls faces and you say nothing. And all that does is encourage others with those same beliefs to show up and think that you're okay with them. I really do wish that when you were confident, you spoke up. Or at least told your peers in private "hey, such and such did this antiblack thing and it made me uncomfortable so I'm not going to support them anymore". SOMETHING.

[just-nc-tea]

Adeline. What- I- what????

My heart dropped while reading this and I was giggling like a little school girl. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you

I can’t believe you wrote a full on essay on my little stupid fic about Jay. This is soo cool I am honored and so thankful you took your time to do this!!!! This is do insane I am going to cry :(

But now let me answer to your essay in an essay of mine:

Yk healthy relationships should be based on mutual interest and Y/N had no option but to see some of the stuff that happened at the game and she did really feel bad!

Jay is a respectful boy and wouldn’t go after a taken girly ☝🏻and very valid the scorpio in me would hate that as well.

That line in a 3 am creation and I am very proud of it lmao

I do love the friendship crumbs as well and I made a big ass chart on Miro with connections (who is friends with who, who gets shipped with who??? I am not a shipper but yk for NPC fic purposes)

My man Han didn’t like what he said either but my man Han is bad in handling his emotions in this one & Y/N is just like oookkkkaaaayyy sure buddy😀

Yk how hard it is to write flirting actions when you never flirt? I wanted to rip my hair out. But I am glad you thought it’s cute!

I love cheek kisses! Gimme cheek kisses!!

I TOLD YOU THERE WERE GOING TO BE CROSSOVERS! (There are more to come!!) Y/N also absolutely knew what was coming. She KNEW that her fans would go feral if they just as much as sensed that she is talking to a male!

(It was P1H Intak!)

Yudai (K from &Team) originally had a way bigger part in this actually but then I was at 60k words and he got cut lmao. Cheek kissing is now officially their thing! And I honestly just wanted to punch Han. Good for Jay that he could hold back his aggressions, but caring for Y/N is number one priority!!

Y/N called it and kinda already knew they were coming so she is just like you stupid fuckers but her heart broke when they attacked Jay. But Jay is raised by a business man and knows to play his contacts (his dad lmao). Also agressive game indeed hot and being in love with Y/N also hot.

&Team and Enha crumps 🤝🏻 and Y/N being close with Jake (remember this fact for the next one☝🏻)

CC is kind of an arse but he also is a bit worried! And Jays parents are the sweetest parents alive! They gotta be!

Adeline thank you so so so so much for your support and love for my little stupid fanfictions it means the world to me. Really.

iced americano season ˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗

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

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

ᝰ pairing. hockey player jay x radio host, influencer & barista Y/N (she s a busy girl).ᐟ₊ ⊹   ᝰ genre. College sports aus, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, suggestive.ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, a LOT of partying (somehow they always meet at parties, dunno what happened there), some intense making out and loosing tshirts, toxic friendships, toxic fanbases, lots of drinking, profanity, suggestive language .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 39.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ (I am so sorry)

ᝰ an.Thank you so much for the love on pt. 1 of thise series. I hope you enyjoy this part just as much! I am so sorry to Han for making him an asshole in here :((( I did love writing for Jay and this was about 60k, just them being cute but maybe ill do a lil "spin off" if I find the time .ᐟ₊ ⊹  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heeseung? Is that you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The upstairs one!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow, taking the glass from him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Text me :) 

2997-2977-127

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

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

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

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

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

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

His phone buzzed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your answer to this message took a while. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another pause. 

Y/N  Surprise me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay looked back at you. „Reading goal?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, hey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I once did too.” you replied dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay chuckled. “What are you drinking?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re freezing,” he murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

Jay chuckled. “Oh yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Tired?” Jay asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He picked up almost instantly. “Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jake-”

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

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

“Jake,” you greeted, suppressing your laughter. The embarrassment, the fresh air and the bottle of water you bought in the GS25 did a good job in sobering you up at least a bit. 

“You’re a traitor,” he accused, though his tone was playful. “We were supposed to keep the shot streak alive. Katy is playing again!”

“Next time,” you promised, nodding even though he could see you.

“Fine,” Jake said with a dramatic huff before handing the phone back.

“Sorry about that,” Jay said, his tone dry but amused.

“It’s okay. Jake’s fun.” You paused. “I’m almost home. You can hang up now and go back to the others.”

“No,” Jay said firmly. “I’m not hanging up. Not until you’re inside.”

You punched the pin to your apartment into the number pad as Jay was fending off a drunk Jake again. You haphazardly kicked off your shoes as Gracie trotted over to greet you. 

“Oh my God, Gracie,” you squealed. “You’re so cute. Did you miss me? I missed you.”

Gracie purred loudly, rubbing her head against your hand. 

“I’m home!” you declared into your speaker. “Also, guess what?”

Jay chuckled softly. “What?”

“Gracie missed me,” you said with a dramatic sigh, collapsing onto your couch. “Like, she’s acting like I’ve been gone for years. She’s the best cat ever, Jay. Like, ever. And she forgives me for leaving her because she loves me so much.”

Mhm. Maybe not as sober as you thought.

“Of course,” he said, his tone amused. “I’m glad Gracie forgives you. She’s very forgiving.”

“She is,” you agreed, stroking her fur as she curled up on your lap. 

Jay laughed softly, the sound warm in your ear. 

“But she’s still the best. I mean, look at her-wait, you can’t see her. She’s being adorable right now, though. You’d die.”

“I am sure she is.”, he laughed again. 

Ugh why must his laugh be that attractive.

“I had so much fun tonight. And Gracie’s the cherry on top. She’s purring like crazy right now. ”

“Oh, really?” he teased.

“Really,” you insisted. 

Jay’s laughter filled the line, warm and teasing. “You should sleep now.”

“Okay, fine,” you mumbled, getting up from the floor, “Congratulations on your win again.”

“Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me.” he said softly.

For a short moment neither of you said anything until he urged you to drink some water and to go to sleep.

“Good night, Y/N”

“Good night, Jay.”

God, you were in trouble.

The morning sunlight filtered through Jay’s curtains, waking him slowly. Blinking against the brightness, he stretched out on his bed, his muscles pleasantly sore. 

He reached for his phone. The screen lit up, revealing a flood of notifications. New Instagram followers. Dozens of comments on his Posts. As well as a dozen DMs. 

Choi Jeonghee  What did you do?!

Jay groaned softly, rubbing his face as he sat up in bed. He did nothing, or well nothing that would have gotten him any trouble with the media or similar? After you left yesterday he collected Jake, Heeseung and Sunghoon and made them go home and he fell into his bed as soon as they walked through the doorway. Maybe his dad posted on the official instagram of Park ent. and tagged him? 

He opened Instagram first, scrolling through the sea of new followers and tags. Confused, he checked his DMs, finding them packed with messages—mostly from strangers, a few from people he vaguely recognized.

Then he saw it: a tagged story from you.

Clicking on it, he was greeted by a short clip of the two of you from last night, dancing to Katy Perry. The video was shaky, and a bit blurry and Felix and Jakes voices were drowning out the actual singer by belting the lyrics. Even completely sober you looked beautiful to him. You were laughing and holding onto him, while he was looking at you like you were holding the stars in your eyes. You tagged him and the bar you met in yesterday. You also posted a picture of Chaeryoung during the match yesterday.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that your fans must have seen the story and just started following him because of that. You have told him before, that your fans were very invested in your love life and how you weren’t a big fan of that, so you tried to keep that as secret as possible, never really posting about it. They would love you and Han together but you assured him that you weren’t interested in Han a bit. He did believe you but he wasn’t so sure that Han felt the same. Every time he crossed paths with you and your friend group, whether on campus or down by the creek, Han shot him glances sharp enough to kill.

He was about to text Jeonghee back when a soft knocking sound came from his door and Heeseung peaked into his room. His hair was standing off in every direction.

“Good morning. You want breakfast? Jeonghee came over and brought some pasties from the creek to celebrate yesterday's win. And she kinda wants to know what you and Y/N did. She said she wants it straight from the source.”, his voice sounded a bit rough, like he just woke up as well.

Jay groaned, tossing his phone onto the bed. “I didn’t do anything. She tagged me in a story, and now her fans are swarming my account.”

“Tell that to Jeonghee, not me.”

Reluctantly, Jay got out of bed, throwing on a hoodie before heading to the kitchen. The smell of coffee and something vaguely burnt greeted him as he entered.

Jake and Sunghoon sat slumped at the table, their heads resting on their arms. Jeonghee sat by the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Morning, lover boy,” she greeted with a smirk.

Jay rolled his eyes, grabbing a mug. “Please don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Jeonghee began, sliding into a seat across from him, “that story went viral. Y/N’s fans are convinced you two are a thing. And honestly, from the way you were looking at her, I can’t blame them.”

Jake groaned, lifting his head slightly. “Can we talk quieter? My head feels like it’s been put through a blender.”

“Maybe don’t take shots with Sunghoon next time,” Jeonghee shot back, unimpressed.

Sunghoon raised a hand weakly. “I regret nothing.”

Jeonghee ignored him, turning her attention back to Jay. “Anyway, the engagement our posts have had in the last hours is insane. People started making edits for you.”

Jay frowned, his grip tightening on his mug. “What does that mean?”

“It means that her fans are now invested. And that she probably is too. I know from trustworthy sources that that should be the case. And I also know that if you don’t get your ass up soon someone else will.” 

“You mean Han?”, Jay raised an eyebrow. 

Sunghoon snorted, half-asleep. “Man, he is so hopeless.”

Jay shook his head. “I don’t think he has the balls to make a move on her.”

Jeonghee smirked, sipping her coffee. “I don’t think so either, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. You’ve seen how he hovers around her, Jay.”

Jay leaned back in his chair, processing her words. The thought of Han crowding you, oblivious to your lack of interest, made his jaw tighten. Especially after he knew you were not interested in Han. Maybe he was just as delusional as Han, but especially after yesterday he was sure that you had a thing for him.

Heeseung chimed in. “Look, Jay. You like her, right?”

Jay hesitated, glancing around the table at his friends. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I do.”

“Then what’s the holdup?” Heeseung asked, spreading his hands. “You’ve got an opening. Just… be honest with her.”

“Honest about what?” Jay asked, feigning ignorance. He was about to say that Heeseung was the one to speak. Before Jeonghee and Heeseung were officially together she slept over more times than Jay could count and the way Heeseung went all soft and crazy for their captain's daughter while not making a move (for almost half a season!!!) seems to be a tad worse than Jay's little crush on a random barista. 

Jeonghee rolled her eyes. “About the fact that you look at her like she’s the only person in the room. And don’t even try to deny it. I saw the way you were staring at her in that Instagram story.”

Jake snickered. “It’s painfully obvious, man.”

Sunghoon lifted his head a bit. “If it works out I want credits for being your wingman yesterday.”

Jay groaned, running a hand down his face. “You guys are the worst.”

Jeonghee grinned, unbothered. “Maybe, but we’re also right.”  

The studio was quiet, save for the faint hum of the equipment and the muted sound of the current song playing. You were reviewing your notes for your classes later in the day when your phone vibrated. You picked it up, squinting at the message.

Jay Hey, I’m outside. Do I just ring the bell, or…?

You blinked, rereading the text. Jay? Outside? You glanced at the clock. 7:02 a.m. What was he doing here? 

Y/N Huh? What do you mean?  Where are you? 

The reply came quickly.

Jay In front of the studio. I figured you’d need some coffee.  Should I ring, or can you let me in?

Your heart skipped a beat, and you scrambled to your feet. Slipping on your shoes, you hurried down the narrow hallway to the entrance. Pushing open the door, you were met with the cold morning air and Jay, holding two steaming cups of coffee, looking unfairly cute in his hoodie and a beanie pulled low over his hair.

“Morning,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small smile.

You stood there for a second, slightly stunned. “You-what are you doing here?”

“Morning practice,” he explained, holding up the coffee cups as if that explained everything. “I wanted to stop by. Thought you might need this.”

Your chest warmed, the gesture hitting you harder than you expected. “Jay, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, stepping inside as you held the door open for him.

Closing the door behind him, you led him back to the studio, sitting down by your equipment, still processing his surprise visit.

“You’re seriously the nicest person ever,” you said, taking one of the cups from him. The warmth seeped into your hands, and you cradled it gratefully. “Thank you. Really.”

Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the edge of your desk. “You’ve got a long morning ahead. Thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

You smiled and took a sip of your latte. 

“Are you filming today?” Jay asked, noticing the camera on your desk.

“Uh, kind of,” you admitted. “But uhm don’t worry. I’ll cut you out of the vlog.”

“Oh no worries.”, he said waving into the camera.

You bit your lip, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I just-ugh, I feel so bad about tagging you in that story. My followers were so obnoxious. I’m sorry if they bothered you.”

He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. “They didn’t bother me. It was kind of sweet, in a way? lt was quite an ego boost to now have more followers than Heeseung.”

You ducked your head, your cheeks burning. “Still. I felt bad.”

Jay reached out, his hand brushing yours briefly, a gesture so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. “Don’t. It’s really not a big thing”

You glanced up at him, his warm gaze making your heart race. “If you say so.” you said softly.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, the quiet of the studio wrapping around you like a cocoon.

“You should sit,” you said finally, gesturing to the chair across from yours. “Do you wanna stay for a bit?”

He smiled, settling into the seat. “Sure. I’d love to.”

Jay settled into the chair across from you, his long legs stretched out slightly. 

“So,” you began, fiddling with the edge of your notes. “Do you want to pick a song or something? I mean, since you’re here.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me? Don’t you have a whole playlist planned?”

You shrugged, feeling the familiar warmth creep up your neck. “Yeah, but I can squeeze something in. It’s my show, after all.”

His smile widened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. “You’re giving me creative control?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t make me regret it. No pressure, but pick something good.”

Jay leaned forward, a thoughtful expression on his face as he tapped his fingers lightly against the coffee cup. “Can I recommend a song in Japanese?” he asked, his tone soft.

You froze mid-sip of your coffee. 

“Yes! Of course!” you said, your voice bright and eager.

His lips curled into a small smile, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. 

“Okay,” he said, pulling out his phone. “There’s this song I really likeドライフラワ by Yuuri. Do you know it?”

Your eyes widened, and you practically bounced in your seat. “Are you kidding? I love Yuuri!” you exclaimed, your hands coming together in an excited clap. “His songs are so good, and the storytelling in his music is incredible.”

Jay’s grin widened at your reaction. “Yeah, right? This one’s been stuck in my head lately. The vibes, the lyrics. It’s just so well done.”

You queued up the track immediately. As the music played, you glanced at him, a new thought crossing your mind. “How do you know Your?”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little bashful. “Well, I’ve been studying Japanese for a while. And I love music so I started listening to japanese artists a lot.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you shifted in your chair to face him fully. “Wait, what? You speak Japanese?” Shit. You tried to remember if you ever spoke Japanese around him. Or well if you spoke in Japanese about him AROUND him. 

Jay chuckled, switching seamlessly into Japanese. “Well, I’m not that good, but I’m trying.”

Your face lit up, your smile so wide it practically hurt. You didn’t really get the opportunity to speak Japanese to anyone but your family that often and now Jay was speaking Japanese? “No way! You can really speak it! That’s amazing!”

He laughed softly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Thanks, but I’m not that good.”

You waved a hand dismissively, shaking your head. “Not at all! You sound pretty much fluent!”

He leaned back in his seat, setting his coffee down. “Okay, full disclosure: I actually started learning Japanese because of anime. It’s a little embarrassing, but yeah… anime and a ton of subtitles.”

You blinked at him for a moment before bursting into a soft laugh. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Completely serious,” he admitted, his smile sheepish but endearing. “I’d hear a phrase, look it up, and just… kept going. Then I got hooked on the language.”

You shook your head, still laughing but with a warmth that softened the sound. “I mean, fair. I can’t even judge you because I’ve been studying Korean with K-dramas for years. I even have a little notebook where I’d write down new words while watching.”

Jay’s brows rose in amused surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” you said, “When my parents decided to move here, none of us could speak korean and my brothers and I started watching K-dramas together. Taki and Yudai had to suffer a lot.”

Jay’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as he processed your words. “Wait, hold up. Yudai’s your brother?” he asked again, his tone mixing disbelief with amusement.

You grinned, leaning back in your seat a little.“Yeah, Yudai’s the older one, and Taki is the younger one,” you explained. “You might also know my dad. Professor Koga?”

Jay’s eyebrows shot up even further, and he let out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s kind of crazy. I didn’t realize you were his daughter. I’ve been on the receiving end of his lectures a couple of times” He trailed off, shaking his head with a small chuckle. “He’s intense, man.”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah, he is. Especially when it comes to his work. But when he’s at home, it’s like a totally different person. He’s a softie when it comes to family. Especially to Taki. I swear he never gets scolded for all of the shit he does.”

“I’ll have to remember that if I ever run into him again,” Jay said, looking genuinely impressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him being anything but intense.”

“He is a great dad.”, you said softly smiling. 

You and Jay ended up talking until he was almost late for his morning training session. When Jay finally stood you found yourself reluctant to let him go.

“Thanks for stopping by,” you said as he lingered near the door.

“Thanks for letting me crash your show,” he replied, his voice light but his expression soft.

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, his lips brushing lightly against your cheek. “See you later?”

You swallowed and smiled. “Yeah. See you later.” 

Later turned out to be more than a whole week later. Both of your schedules were so stuffed you couldn’t even grab lunch together. That didn’t stop you from non stop texting though. ​​It was almost ironic how, no matter how chaotic life got, the two of you always ended up crossing paths at parties.

You were minding your own business, questioning all of your life choices while you were watching your friends play drunk jenga. So far Minho had to pick a body part to kiss from the person to his left. Much to his displeasure the person to his left was Changbin who was cackling the whole time. Minho, clearly not thrilled, ended up kissing Changbin's biceps, which, in fairness, wasn't the worst fate. Beomgyu had to strip his shirt and Ryujin had to text her ex ‘I miss you’ but opted out to take the two shots of whatever alcohol they were currently drinking. You would have killed her if she would have texted Mina again. 

You decided to sit this round out. The last time you played, you had to give the person sitting opposite you a lap dance. Lucky for you, it was Lia and the two of you had been laughing the entire time. You hadn’t really known what you were doing, but judging by Chaeryoung’s enthusiastic thumbs up when you finished and the way Intak discreetly pulled a pillow onto his lap, you were pretty sure you’d at least done something right.

But today, Jay was playing too, and there was no way you were even risking the chance of giving him a lap dance. With your luck, that would’ve been your fate. 

Instead, you leaned against the sofa armrest and took the time to not so obviously stare at Jay. He looked absolutely incredible tonight. He was wearing a tight fitted black t-shirt, his arms toned arms were almost screaming your name, paired with several chains. His dark jeans were snug, outlining his legs in a way that had you biting your lip before you could stop yourself. Every time he laughed, his whole face lit up. His smile was so damn attractive it made your heart race and you weren't even tipsy yet. He caught you staring at him more than once, but you just smiled at him and gestured him to focus back on the game. Which lead to him cocking his head to the side and smirking, not breaking eye contact waiting for you to back down.

You had no idea where your newfound confidence was coming from. Maybe it was because, the first time he saw you, he looked like he had just seen a ghost. And when his eyes slowly dragged up and down the tight black mini dress you’d borrowed from Chaeryoung, his ears turned bright red. 

You stood up to get yourself another drink when you bumped into Yudai and Sakura exiting the kitchen.

"Whoa, watch where you're going!" Yudai said with a teasing grin. 

He looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow. "That’s uh, an interesting choice of outfit, huh?" He smirked, crossing his arms. "A little short, don’t you think?"

You rolled your eyes, ready to defend yourself from your brother's overprotectiveness when his girlfriend immediately jumped in: “Yudai, shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She looks hot. Let her live."

Yudai scoffed, not backing down. "I’m just saying, she’s my baby sister, she shouldn’t be wearing stuff like that."

Sakura laughed, nudging Yudai. "She’s not a baby anymore.", she looked back at you, giving you an appreciative once-over. "You look amazing Y/N. You should wear dresses like that more often! It really suits you."

Yudai threw his hands up, playfully frustrated. "I’m just saying, I don't need to see my little sister looking like that."

Before you could respond, you felt a presence behind you, and Jay suddenly appeared, his hand on your elbow. You hadn’t even noticed him approaching, but now he was standing just a bit too close, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, Yudai. Sakura,” Jay greeted, giving them a friendly nod before his gaze flickered down to you. “Y/N.”

Nice. Just nice. Why now Jay. He had the whole evening to approach you. Why infront of Yudai? 

You felt your cheeks flush instantly, the heat creeping up. You hoped your foundation was holding up because, knowing Sakura, she could probably see right through your flustered expression. Sure enough, she shot you a pointed look, a grin tugging at her lips. 

“The others are going outside to play a round of beer pong, do you wanna come along?”, he asked, his focus solely on you. 

You smiled at him and tried to ignore how your brother was mustering Jay. “Sure. I’ll come outside in just a second.” 

He nodded and grinned at you: “Perfect, I’ll see you there.” And then he leaned forward, giving you a chaste cheek on your cheek. Your heart stopped for a second and then started beating so fast, you were sure if someone was to watch your chest they would see the rapid movements. He nodded at Yudai and Sakura and turned around.

The moment he left, you sighed and turned back to face your brother and his girlfriend. You knew exactly what was coming next.

“Not a word,” you said, your voice flat, glaring at them both.

Yudai gave you a knowing smirk, clearly not buying it. “Oh, come on. Y/Nie.”

Sakura wasn’t helping either. She snickered, leaning closer to you with an overly sweet smile. “I didn’t know you and Jay were a thing.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you took a deep breath. “We’re just... friends.”

Yudai raised an eyebrow. “Friends, huh? You sure blush a lot for just being friends.”

Your brain scrambled for a way out of this conversation. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen like you might just vanish in that direction.

Sakura leaned back, her grin widening. “Please, Y/N. Don’t even try.”

Your words started coming out in a jumbled mess. "I-what-no! Stop it!” you spluttered, praying for divine intervention. Someone. Anyone. Help. “We are just friends. Jay is way out of my league. You are imagining things.” Like the kiss they just saw. Maybe you were hallucinating that? 

Sakura snorted and nudged your arm. “You are not out of his league. And, honestly, it’s obvious Jay likes you too. He kissed your cheek Y/N.” Okay, not a hallucination then. 

You whined, shaking your head. “Stop! This is so embarrassing. I’m leaving. Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day!”

Before either of them could respond, you spun on your heel and headed for the back door, determined to escape their relentless teasing. 

You found your friends pretty quickly. The hockey frats house was a bit off campus and had a gigantic yard with a pool and enough space for three beer pong tables lined next to each other. When you reached the tables you leaned into Chaeryoung, who was talking to Lia. “Please, please kill me.”

Chaeryoung laughed and petted your hair. "What's up Y/N?”

“Yudai and Sakura just saw me and Jay. I had to escape just now.”

Lia leaned in. “Why what did Jay do?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Please don’t make me relive this. I’m already mortified. Jay kissed my cheek, Yudai went full big-brother mode, and Sakura was just egging him on, calling me out for crushing on him.”

Lia laughed, crossing her arms. “Well, to be fair, you do have a massive crush on him.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, glaring at her.

Chaeryoung shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re hopeless, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, a voice startled the three of you from behind.“Y/N! ”

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around to look directly into Jay’s face, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a beer bottle. 

Chaeryoung raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a laugh. “Speak of the devil.”

You shot them both a withering look but turned to make your way over. As you approached, Jay’s smile widened just slightly, his gaze softening.

“Would you like to play against Hee and Jake?” he asked, his tone light.

You nodded, trying to play it cool despite the way your heart was racing. “Sure. But if we lose, it’s all your fault.”

Jay chuckled, stepping aside to let you take your spot by the table. “Deal. We’re not going to lose.”

The two of you slipped into an easy rhythm. By the time you sank the last shot, your opponents were groaning in defeat, and Jay gave you a triumphant high-five.

“Told you,” he said, grinning. “We make a great team.”

You laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. “I never denied that. You are actually not terrible at this.”

Jay tilted his head, mock-offended. “Not terrible? That’s the best compliment I’m getting?”

“Take it or leave it,” you teased, your smile widening.

After the game, the two of you decided to take a break, grabbing fresh drinks before finding a quiet spot to just relax for a second.

The two settled onto a bench near the pool, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself as you glanced at the scene in front of you. Jay sat down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body beside you. 

You tilted your head back to look at the stars, the coolness of the evening air brushing against your face. You could hear Jay breathing beside you, and after a moment, he turned his head slightly to look at you. You turned to meet his eyes.

“I’m glad we’re out here,” you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the breeze. “It’s nice.”

Jay nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah, it’s a lot better than being stuck inside.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. You closed your eyes for a second, just letting the calmness of the evening settle over you. You had morning classes and a hosting session behind you, and the exhaustion was finally catching up.

After a moment, Jay shifted slightly, his voice low. “How drunk are you?”

“Just a bit tipsy,” you admitted with a soft chuckle. “Not nearly as tipsy as last time though. Don’t worry.”

“Mhm you were pretty cute last week. I am not sure how you were handling the amount of shots you had that well, but Jake was feeling way worse than you did.”, he chuckled.

You blushed a bit as you turned to him, the soft glow of the pool lights reflecting in his eyes.

 “Well, Jake’s a lightweight,” you said with a playful shrug. “But I’m also not usually one to go that hard. Guess I just felt comfortable last time.”

Jay’s smile widened. “Comfortable, huh?”

You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder. “Maybe. Don’t let it go to your head.”

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I won’t, but. I’m glad. I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

You glanced down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your dress, before daring to meet his gaze again. “I do. You make it easy.”

His eyes softened. “Good. That means a lot to me.”

Jay’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression thoughtful and gentle. The soft glow of the pool lights danced in his eyes, and you felt your heart thrum in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t control.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to him, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah?”

He hesitated.“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Of course. Shoot.”

Jay’s lips curled into a soft smile, and he leaned just a fraction closer, his voice low and steady. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Your cheeks warmed, your heart racing as his question settled over you. You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice.

Jay smiled, a small, relieved exhale escaping him. He lifted his hand, the touch of his fingers feather-light as they brushed your cheek, tilting your face gently toward him. He leaned in, his movements slow, giving you every chance to pull away. You didn’t. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes, afraid that if you did, he would disappear in front of your eyes.

Jay’s gaze searched yours for another heartbeat before his lips finally met yours. 

His lips were warm, soft, and faintly flavored with the Malibu you’d both stolen earlier. You sighed into the kiss, your hand sliding up his back, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair. He shivered under your touch, and the quiet sound he made against your lips sent a thrill down your spine.

Jay’s hand cradled your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone as the kiss deepened. He angled his head slightly, his lips parting just enough for his tongue to brush against yours in a tentative, teasing motion. The sensation sent a wave of heat through you, and you instinctively leaned closer, your grip tightening in his hair as his free hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss grew bolder, his lips molding perfectly to yours as his tongue explored in slow, deliberate movements that left you breathless. You let out a soft, involuntary sigh, and he answered with a low hum that you felt resonate through your chest.

When you both finally pulled back his forehead came to rest against yours, both of you catching your breath. His eyes fluttered open, warm and dark in the soft glow of the party lights.

Jay broke the silence, his voice a whisper. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile, your forehead still pressed to his. “Me too,” you murmured, your voice barely above a breath. You carefully leaned forward again, reconnecting your lips. He hummed into the kiss and pulled you into his lap, but before anything else could happen a sharp voice rang out behind you, starling the both of you: “Y/N?”

You and Jay jumped apart, nearly tumbling off the bench as you scrambled to straighten up. You turned quickly, your breath caught in your throat. Standing there, a little unsteady on his feet, was Han. His face was flushed, his expression angry.

“Han?” you said cautiously.

Han’s gaze flicked from you to Jay, narrowing in irritation. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his voice louder than you are used to.

Jay stood up, his posture stiffening, concern flashing across his face.

"Han," you started, trying to steady your voice, “calm down please.”

But Han didn’t listen. His chest heaved with every breath, his eyes locked onto Jay with nothing but fury. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing, Jay. You think she’s just some game to you?” Han’s voice cracked, but he didn’t stop. "You have no right to mess with her like this."

You watched as Jay instinctively stepped in front of you, his posture defensive. His eyes remained locked on Han, while his hands reached out to push you further behind his body.

"Stay the hell away from her!" Han barked, his voice full of venom. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew I—” He hesitated for just a moment, then his eyes flared. “You knew I liked her. And you still just swooped in, didn't you? You think you can have everything, right?”

What? 

The words hung in the air, sharp and cutting. Your chest tightened. 

He came closer to the two of you, stumbling a bit. “You think you are better than me, Jay? You think you can just come in and convince her to like you?”

Han liked you. 

Your throat was closing up and your mind started reeling.  Han, your best friend, the one person who had been there for you through thick and thin, the person who always understood you in ways no one else did, he had feelings for you. Feelings that went beyond friendship. 

“Han, stop! You- you don’t mean all of this” you finally managed, your voice shaky but loud enough to be heard. "You’re drunk, and you need to calm down."

But Han didn’t listen. His glare that until just now was firmly on Jay, wandered to you. 

“And now you’re defending him?” Han sneered, his tone laced with contempt. “Look at you, Y/N. All you ever wanted was a chance to get close to him. You're so desperate to get into his world that you'll let him use you. You think I don’t see it?”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't understand what was happening, but before you could even think of something to say he already continued.

“Jay's nothing but a rich kid with a pretty face and you’re just another one of his stupid stories,” Han spat, shaking his head as if the sight of you hurt him. "You’re wearing that dress for him, aren’t you? You want him to notice you, to think you’re hot.”

The words hit like a punch, leaving you breathless, your chest tightening in hurt. How could he say that? How could he turn on you like this, after everything you’d shared? It felt like he was ripping apart everything you’d ever believed in.  It was too much. You could feel the tears starting to sting your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You were too angry, too confused, too hurt.

Jay stepped forward then, his jaw tight with anger. “Don’t talk to her like that,” he said, his voice low but filled with authority. “You’re completely out of line, Han.”

But Han wasn’t backing down. His eyes flickered between you and Jay, a mix of anger, betrayal, and something else you couldn’t even begin to understand. As Han’s words continued to lash out, it felt like they were pushing you farther away from him with every sentence. His anger was a torrent, and you were caught in the middle of it, struggling to catch your breath.

“You’re better than this, Y/N!” Han shouted, voice cracking with emotion, and his eyes locked on you, filled with something you couldn't place. “I am so disappointed in you.”

You blinked and took a step backwards. Disappointed? Why was he disappointed in you? Was he angry because you had feelings for someone else? Because you were making your own choices?

“Enough, Han,” Jay said, his voice steady. “You need to stop.”

But Han didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his eyes filled with something unreadable, and in that moment, you knew that no matter what you said now, nothing would change what had just happened.

“Do you think this is worth it?” Han spat, his hands trembling with barely contained rage. “You’re worth more than this. More than him. You’re better than this whole situation, and I don’t get why you’re throwing yourself into it like this!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could find the words, Jay’s hand slid into yours, gently but firmly intertwining your fingers.  Han’s eyes snapped to Jay’s hand, his jaw clenching, his entire posture bracing as if he were about to snap. For a brief, heart-stopping second, you thought he might lash out, his anger bubbling over into something physical. But before anything else could happen you heard the sound of heavy footsteps and within moments, Minho and Bang Chan appeared, their eyes quickly scanning the situation. They took in the scene: Han standing there, furious and shaking with rage, Jay essentially hiding you behind his back, your hands intertwined. Minho didn’t hesitate for a second. His eyes locked onto Han, his voice calm but sharp. “Jisung. Enough.”

Bang Chan stepped forward too. “You need to back off. This isn’t the time for this.”

Han turned towards them, fists clenched, his breath ragged as he fought to keep his composure. His eyes darted between Minho and Jay, but neither of them flinched. They were standing firm, not backing down.

“You’re not helping, Minho,” Han spat, his voice low but seething with anger. “You don’t know what’s going on here. You don’t understand how much this matters.”

Minho took a step closer, not intimidated by Han’s rage. “I have heard enough Jisung. You are crossing a line.”

Han’s gaze shifted back to you, his expression flickering between frustration and something else. Something that looked like regret.

“You deserve so much more than this, Y/N. You deserve better than him,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, but still tinged with raw emotion.

You shook your head slowly, trying to make sense of his words. “No, Han,” you whispered, your voice wavering but firm. “You’re wrong. You don’t get to tell me what I deserve or who I should be with.”

Han opened his mouth to argue, but Minho stepped in again, his voice cutting through the tension. “This needs to stop, now.”

With that, Han’s shoulders slumped, his anger finally giving way to exhaustion. He looked defeated. Your heart ached for him. You loved Han. Just not the way he did. 

Bang Chan nodded to Jay, signaling for him to take a step back with you. Jay’s grip on your hand tightened just slightly as he gave your hand a gentle tug.

Before either of you could get too far, Minho spoke again, his voice softer now. “Go. We’ll handle this.”

Jay didn’t hesitate, pulling you along with him, away from the confrontation. You didn’t look back at Han. You couldn’t. Not now, not after everything that had been said. The two of you walked quickly. Jay’s hand tightened around yours as he glanced back at you. Your mind was reeling and you felt a mix of emotions, from anger to confusion to sadness, and you couldn’t figure out how to make sense of any of it. Jay led you out of the party, walking past your friends and towards the main door. 

Once you finally reached a quiet spot away from the house, you stopped, trying to catch your breath. You pulled your hand from Jay’s and looked up into the sky, trying to stop your tears and pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from wobbling.

“I’m so sorry about all of this,” Jay said quietly, his voice filled with regret.

You barely nodded, too shaken to speak, and when you finally looked at Jay the tears that you had been holding back spilled over, and you could feel them streaking down your face as your chest tightened. “I trusted him,” you whispered to Jay. “I thought he is my best friend. How could he say that to me?”

Jay stepped closer, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away a tear. "I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You didn’t deserve any of it."

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. That only resulted in your tears coming harder now. How could Han say that? You couldn’t stop asking yourself that question.

“I just... I don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “He’s my best friend, Jay. He’s always been there for me, and now he’s... he’s saying these things. Like I’m some-” You choked on your words, the hurt too much to contain.

Jay’s hand stayed on your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over the skin. 

“He’s just angry and confused,” he said softly, his voice calm. “But that doesn’t excuse what he said. And it doesn’t change what you mean to me.” His eyes met yours, a steady, reassuring gaze. "You are so pretty, so clever, so kind. I can’t take my eyes off of you whenever I see you. I love hearing your laugh, I love to see you laugh. And I know you feel at least somewhat similar to how i feel about me. And you are not using me for anything."

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, staring at him.

He continued, his gaze not wavering, “You’re so strong, and passionate. You care so much about the people in your life.”

“Why does this have to be so complicated?” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

Jay’s lips parted, but before he could say anything, you found yourself stepping forward, your body instinctively seeking his closeness. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace, and you felt a small weight lift from your chest as his warmth surrounded you. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” Jay whispered against your hair, his voice soft and soothing. “Don’t blame yourself for this. Han’s confused, and drunk.”

Your tears slowed. You nodded against his chest, letting yourself just breathe, allowing the silence to envelop you for a moment longer.

After a few moments, Jay pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. “Do you want to go back inside, or do you need a little more time?”

You hesitated, glancing back toward the house. The sounds of the party still buzzed in the distance. You didn’t know what to do with all of the emotions swirling inside, but you knew one thing: You didn’t want to face Han again right now.

“I think I want to go home,” you said softly, your voice steadying just a little bit. 

Jay gave you a small, comforting smile, his hands still resting on your arms. “Let’s get you home Y/N.”

The walk to your flat was slow and silent. When you reached your apartment, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. Jay followed you, crouching down to greet Gracie. 

Wordlessly, you made your way to the living room, sinking down onto the couch. You pressed the palms of your hands into your face, letting out a long, shaky breath.

Jay didn’t follow you, but walked into the kitchen. He came to the living room, sitting down beside you on the couch.

 “Here,” he said gently, handing you the glass. “You should drink something.”

You took the glass with a nod, sipping slowly. The cool water felt good against your dry throat, and for a moment, you let the quietness between the two of you settle.

Jay’s voice broke the silence after a while, soft and coaxing. “Hey, maybe you should get ready for bed? You’ve had a long day.”

You met his gaze for a moment, then looked down. “Yeah, you’re right,” you said quietly, setting the empty glass down on the table.

“I’ll wait here,” Jay said with a small smile, petting Gracie, who had curled up next to him, “Take your time.”

You gave him a brief nod and walked toward the bathroom. The sound of the water running as you washed your face was a small, soothing comfort as you tried to shake off the lingering tension in your body. When you finished washing your face, you slipped Chaeyoungs dress over your head, tossing it into a corner and grabbing your pajama. 

When you emerged from the bathroom, Jay was still sitting on the couch, Gracie snuggled up beside him. You felt a small flicker of warmth in your chest at the sight of them. You walked over and sat down next to him, letting out a soft sigh as you settled your head onto his shoulder.

Jay looked down at you, a faint smile on his lips. "You okay?"

You didn’t respond immediately, just nestled in closer, closing your eyes for a moment.

After a few seconds, you spoke, your voice soft. “Stay, Jay. Please.”

His hand rested on top of yours. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

With that you felt another tear rolling down your cheek and your breath started hitching. You buried your face in Jays shoulder and he maneuvered you into his lap, carefully caressing your back but not saying anything. He let you just silently cry for a while.

After a long moment, his voice broke the stillness, soft and careful. “Do you want to go to bed?”

You nodded, still resting your head on his chest.  He didn’t rush you, just helped you gently up from the couch, guiding you with a tenderness that made your chest ache a little less.

When you reached your bedroom, Jay watched you as you wiped away the last of your tears, your skin still flushed. You stepped forward, pulling a set of clothes from a drawer. “Here,” you said quietly, holding them out to him. “These should be more comfortable.”

Jay accepted the clothes with a quiet nod. "Thanks," he murmured.

A small laugh escaped you as you sniffled. “It’s Niki’s,” you explained with a weak smile. “But he’s at least two meters tall, so I think you’ll fit in it just fine. Taki and he love to crash here so they have their own drawer.”

Jay chuckled softly, the sound soothing to your frazzled mind. 

You watched him as he turned toward the bathroom to change. When he returned, you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of him in the oversized PJs.

You both settled into the bed, Jay sliding in beside you carefully, keeping a respectful distance. You moved closer to him and put your head onto his chest. His arm gently wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.  You could hear his steady breathing, feel the calmness in the air, and it lulled you in. Slowly, the tension in your body started to loosen. His steady presence next to you, the soft caresses in your hair, and the rhythm of his breathing were enough to quiet the storm inside your head. You let your eyes flutter shut.

The soft morning light filtered through the beige curtains in your bedroom, casting a gentle glow over the room. Jay blinked awake slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. 

You slightly shifted in your sleep, still tucked close to him, your head resting on his chest, your legs tangled with his. Your steady breaths warmed the fabric of his shirt. To his side, Gracie purred quietly, curled into the space between his ribs and one of the pillows on your bed. Jay absently rubbed a hand over her fur as his mind wandered back to the night before.

What the hell had happened?

Han’s voice echoed in his head, sharp and angry. Jay could still see the hurt in your eyes, the way your voice had cracked when you told him you trusted Han. He hated that you’d been put in that position, hated that someone who was supposed to care about you had caused you so much pain.

Jay let out a quiet breath, careful not to disturb you. Gently, he shifted beneath you, and though you stirred slightly again, your fingers clinging to his shirt for a moment, you didn’t wake up. He took a second to study you. Your hair was spread like a halo across the pillow, the soft curls from the evening before now almost completely gone. Jay’s fingers brushed softly over your cheek. His heart ached at the slight puffiness around your eyes.  His stomach growled softly, snapping him out of the moment. Slowly, he slipped out of bed, pausing to make sure he didn’t wake you up. You shifted slightly in your sleep, but the soft rise and fall of your chest remained steady. Jay watched for a moment longer before heading out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

He walked into the living room, taking in the quiet stillness of your space. Your jackets were still haphazardly thrown over the back of the sofa. Jay reached out, carefully hanging them back up by the door before moving to the coffee table to pick up the empty glass of water you’d left behind. He glanced down at his phone, still resting on the sofa cushion.

He sighed, unlocking it to find a barrage of messages waiting for him. 

Puckin’ Legends and Sunghoon Heeseung hyung Did you get home okay? Jake Is Y/N alright? Jonghee told us what happened  Hoon Dude, answer us.  I am starting to get really worried Jay Y/N is sleeping right now Fucking hell I’ll update you when i am home later

There were also messages from Chaeryoung and several of your friends, asking similar questions. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen.

He decided to at least answer Chaeryoung, telling her that you were okay right now and that she should call you later.

He stared at the messages from Felix. 

Felix (DA swim) Jay i am so sorry for what happened yesterday We lost Han and he found the two of you before we did I know you went home with Y/N Please take care of her. She is going to pretend everything is fine. Don’t let her. Make her talk to you, please. I'll make sure Han won’t text her, tell her to take all the time she needs. And for the record, i am really happy for the two of you. 

After a moment’s deliberation, he decided against responding for now, slipping his phone into his pocket and heading into the kitchen.

Jay stood in front of your fridge, scanning its content for something useful. He found eggs, a few vegetables and some microwavable rice. It wasn’t much to work with, but it would do. He reached for a chopping board and a frying pan, deciding on egg fried rice.

The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board was oddly calming. After a while he heard your bedroom door creaking open quietly and the soft shuffle of feet behind him.

Jay turned slightly, but before he could say anything, you pressed your face into the space between his shoulders, your arms sliding around his waist. He froze for a second but let his body relax, molding into your hug. He rested his hands over yours where they curled against his stomach. “Morning,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly to look at you.

“Morning,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against him.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, or well moved your head in something that felt like a shake of your head against his back. “No,” you murmured

Jay hummed and resumed chopping vegetables, the soft thud of the knife against the cutting board filling the stillness of the kitchen. Your arms stayed loosely wrapped around him, your forehead resting between his shoulder blades. 

A soft meow broke the stillness, drawing both of your gazes toward the kitchen doorway. Gracie padded into the kitchen, stretching lazily before meowing at the cabinet where her food was kept. You rubbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie before moving to get her some food, your movements slow and unhurried. If it wasn’t for what happened yesterday, Jay would have loved the domestic atmosphere of the situation. 

He glanced at you as you moved to the cabinet. You’d changed into an oversized hoodie with the initials DA Swimming Team printed across the back. It hung loosely on you, the sleeves slightly too long. As you crouched to pour Gracie’s food, Jay’s thoughts drifted. Maybe he should text Yudai. He didn’t really know what to say, but you seemed to be quite close to your brothers so their comfort may be better than anything he could give you. 

Your phone started buzzing from the sofa table, faint and insistent you seemed to not hear it. 

Jay hesitated. “Your phone’s going off,” he said softly, glancing toward the living room.

“Ignore it,” you replied, your voice quiet and flat. You poured a glass of water, sipping it slowly as your gaze lingered on the counter.

Jay didn’t press. He turned back to the stove, stirring the rice and vegetables. Normally, cooking brought him a kind of peace, but now, every sound, the sizzle of the pan, the scrape of the spoon, felt too loud. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you walking towards the living room, shutting off your alarm. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he finished cooking in silence, the aroma of fried rice filling the room. You wordlessly started decking the table while Jay slid the food onto plates.

As you sat down across from him, the silence lingered. Neither of you had the energy to fill it, and for now, that was okay. Jay would wait. For now, he’d let you have the space you needed, even if it meant sitting across from each other in silence.

Jay left when it was already dark. The two of you spend the rest of the day curled up in your bed watching Howl's moving castle, eating the leftover fried rice from your breakfast.  He was so soft and caring all day and you felt so bad for making him do all of this. You didn’t want to seem like a charity case he had to care for. 

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Your thoughts wandered back to the last 24 hours. How could everything have gone so wrong. One moment you were kissing Jay, his lips so soft and gentle on yours and the next your childhood best friend accuses you of essentially being a puck bunny after he confessed and you didn't reciprocate his feelings? And then he dared to claim he was disappointed in you? 

You sighed again, louder this time, and threw yourself back against the pillow, your arms flung wide. Why did it have to be so hard?  You reached for your phone, ignoring all of your notifications that accumulated over the day. You unlocked it and typed a quick message to Jaemin. 

Can you take over my shift at the café tomorrow? I am not feeling too well :( 

You hesitated for a moment before hitting send, then set the phone aside and buried your face in the pillow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, you will deal with it all. 

You were good at pretending.

Or at least, you were trying to be.

After you took a day for yourself, not leaving bed and only replying to Chae, Jay and your brothers you decided to get back on track. 

You went to the station, delivered your segments with faked enthusiasm, your voice steady even when your hands trembled.

You went to your classes, tried to pay attention, tried to focus on the words the professors were saying. 

You went to the creek, smiled and served customers.

You even stayed on track with your usual posting schedule, posting a book review about a childhood friends-to-lovers book. It was ironic, really.

Almost two weeks have passed since the party and your backlog of pre-recorded videos was running dry. You haven’t had the motivation to film anything, your latest update on any social media platform being that book review from a week ago. 

You clicked "publish" for your last pre recorded and cut video, a monthly recap vlog and sighed. 

You were exhausted. It was easier to keep moving, to keep working, than to face the truth. You couldn’t afford to stop, to let everything sink in. You needed to act like nothing had changed.

Around your friends, you acted like nothing had changed. You smiled through your shifts at the café, laughed at jokes you didn’t find funny, and acted like everything was alright. They asked how you were doing, and you gave them your best reassuring smile.

You don’t think they believed a single word you said. They knew something was off. Obviously. You haven’t seen Han since that night, but you know that Felix was taking care of him. You knew that Jay was giving him updates on how you were feeling. Felix and the others tried to reach out, telling you that they were sorry, they didn’t stop, telling you to not feel bad, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer them. Not yet.

You loved spending time with Jay. 

His schedule was always packed with practices and games, but whenever he had a free moment, Jay would find a way to drop by the café or send you a quick text asking if you wanted to grab a bite. It was never anything extravagant, just small, quiet moments together between his and your hectic schedule. 

You hadn’t really talked about what you were or where things stood between the two of you. It was an unspoken thing that hung between you, something both of you hadn’t fully addressed. But you weren’t in any rush. In a way, it felt comfortable this way. No pressure, no expectations. Just being around each other when you could, enjoying the small, sweet moments without overthinking it. You liked it. You liked him. Maybe it wasn’t official, and maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but for now, that was okay. You were content with how things were, with how he made you feel. You started to get more comfortable around the rink too. Sometimes, after his practices, Jay would invite you to watch his team scrimmage or just hang out in the stands while the guys warmed up. You still didn’t know much about hockey, but that didn’t matter. You were just enjoying your time in the rink, away from all of the chaos. You grew quite close to Jeonghee, the social media manager of the team, since you spend a lot of time in her office. You taught her quite a few handy tips and tricks for editing videos and she claims that you were the best thing that happened to the hockey team. She invited you over to Jays flat more often than he did himself, claiming she needed some female support when dealing with her boyfriend and his roommates, which includes your (almost?) boyfriend, aswell. 

It was almost like a ritual. You’d sit in the stands talking or recording something with Jonghee, him glancing over to see you there between drills, his eyes lighting up when he caught your gaze. And afterward, the two would end up in either your or his apartment. 

Jay stood under the hot stream of water, the pressure of it soothing his tired muscles. His mind raced in a whirl of thoughts. His coach was relentless the past few training sessions, always pushing him and his teammates to the limit, after they lost the last two games. They had to win the game against Merrimak today. They had to. 

He signed and finished his shower a few minutes after, grabbing a towel to dry himself. As he did, he noticed his toiletries, his shampoo, conditioner, and a few other things, scattered neatly around your bathroom. He smiled softly to himself. 

He walked back into the bedroom, wearing a new set of boxers and nothing else. You were still asleep on your bed, your soft breathing barely audible in the quiet room. He reached out, running his fingers lightly across your cheek, brushing aside a few stray strands of hair that had fallen across your face. Jay stayed there for a moment, just watching you.

He loved being with you, more than he could put into words. He loved your little quirks and habits, he loved the way he felt when he spend time with you, how well you fitted in with his friends. But he couldn’t help the weight that settled in his chest every time he thought about how things had unfolded. He hated the circumstances that had led to this, the fight with Han, the fallout, the awkward silences and lingering tension between you and your friends. It wasn’t how he wanted this to start.

His jaw clenched as he thought about Han. He knew his anger wasn’t entirely fair, feelings weren’t something you could control, but that didn’t stop him from resenting the way Han had approached everything. Confessing to you like that, knowing you didn’t feel the same, had set off a chain of events that neither of you deserved.

You stirred slightly, your face scrunching up in that adorable way it always did when you were just waking up. Jay smiled down at you, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

As your eyes fluttered open, he whispered, “Morning.”

Jay couldn’t resist leaning down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back slightly, his gaze tracing the features of your face as you slowly woke. You looked up at him, your eyes soft and a little dazed, and his heart stuttered in his chest.

He leaned in again, this time capturing your lips in a slow kiss. The softness of your lips against his was enough to make his head spin. When you responded, by pulling him closer with a hand on his shoulder, he let out a quiet, satisfied hum, his hand slipping from your cheek to your waist.

The oversized shirt you wore had ridden up slightly, and the feel of your bare skin under his fingertips made his pulse quicken. His lips moved against yours with a growing intensity, and when you sighed softly into the kiss, he felt heat pool low in his stomach.

Your cold fingers trailed along his still damp chest and he couldn’t suppress the sharp inhale that followed. The sensation sent shivers racing down his spine, and he instinctively shifted closer, deepening the kiss. As you arched into him, your hips brushing against his in a way that made his breath hitch, Jay felt his self-control slipping.

He broke the kiss just enough to lay you back gently against the bed, hovering above you as his lips found your jawline. He pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, savoring the way you shivered beneath him.

“Jay…” you breathed, his name leaving your lips in a way that made every nerve in his body hum.

“Yeah?” he whispered, his voice low and rough as his hand slid up your thigh, his palm pressing lightly against your skin before settling at your hip.

You didn’t answer, instead pulling him back to you, capturing his lips with yours.

Your hand trailed up to the nape of his neck, tangling in his damp hair, slightly pulling at the strands. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating between you as his hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing along your side. You whined against his lips, your hips bucking up slightly, meeting his crotch. The sensation sent a rush of heat through him, and his grip on your waist tightened instinctively. His lips trailed back to your neck, where he left slow, lingering kisses, savoring the soft gasps that escaped you.

As his hand drifted higher beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing the edge of your ribs, his alarm cut through the quiet, shrill and unrelenting.

Jay froze, his forehead dropping to your shoulder with a groan of frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, reaching over to silence it with an annoyed swipe.

You laughed softly, your chest still rising and falling rapidly against his. He looked down at you, the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips making it almost impossible to pull away.

He leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time.

“We’ll pick this up later,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, before reluctantly rolling away, the lingering warmth of your body making him already crave more.

Every fiber of him wanted to stay, feel your lips on his, feel your body on his. But he also really didn’t want to be late for a game day. CC was already mad at him. He didn’t know for what, probably for breathing too loud into his direction or something similarly trivial. He was still praying for Heeseung, having CC as his, well almost, father in law seemed like hell. 

Jay stood up with a sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. He moved toward his bag, which rested against the side of the bed, fishing out a fresh T-shirt for the day. His frustration deepened as his body refused to cooperate with his rational thoughts. The heat of your kiss, the way you’d clung to him, your soft gasps, all of it played on a loop in his mind, making it nearly impossible to focus. He clenched his jaw, trying to will his body into submission. Hockey drills.  Push-ups.  Coach Choi yelling about bad passes.  Just Coach Choi.  Maybe Coach Choi naked?

He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head slightly as he grabbed his jeans.Trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of restricting his hard on.

“What the hell,” you muttered, the confusion in your tone pulling his attention instantly.

Jay watched as the confusion on your face morphed into a frown, your lips pressing into a thin line.

“Y/N?” he asked softly.

Your frown deepened as you scrolled through your notifications. “I…I don’t know what happened. It’s…they… the comments.” you said quietly.

Jay’s jaw tightened as he leaned over to glance at your screen. Comment after comment, calling you a slut, a gold digger, and worse. “The fuck…” he muttered under his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the heat rising in his neck. His eyes scanned the hateful remarks, his stomach sinking with every word he saw.

“He could’ve had anyone, but he chose a girl like that? I can’t believe he’s that dumb. Jay deserves better than her, honestly.”“He deserves better than this. Just look at her.”“Stay away from my man, you’re ruining his image.”

"What does Jay even see in her? She’s not even pretty enough to be with someone like him."

"She’s not even his type. It’s obvious she’s just using him for clout."

His breath quickened as his gaze flicked back to you. Your face was pale, your eyes wide with confusion and shock. His earlier frustration from the alarm morphed into pure, unfiltered anger. His hands clenched at his sides.

You flipped between your accounts, your fingers trembling. "What the hell is wrong with people?" You muttered, scrolling past endless hate, barely acknowledging the kind comments that were hidden beneath the sea of hate.

Without thinking, he reached for your phone, gently but firmly taking it from your hands. His jaw clenched harder, his pulse hammering in his ears. He set it down on the bed, his heart aching as he looked at you and cupped your face in his hands. “Hey,” he said softly, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “Don’t look at it.” 

“Shit,” you muttered, biting your lip in frustration. “Why are they doing this, Jay? How do they even know about us?” You sighed deeply, your shoulders slumping. “I am so sorry Jay. I never wanted to drag you into the mess my life is. This is all my fault”

“No, it’s not,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “This is on them, not you. Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do.”, he paused for a second, “You didn’t drag me into anything, Y/N,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering. “I’m here because I want to be. This is on me too.”

Your lips quivered as you met his eyes. “But they’re saying such horrible things. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” Jay felt a wave of frustration rise in him, but he held it back, focusing instead on reassuring her. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. People hate on any and everything.” “I know,” you whispered, still trying to hold yourself together. “But they’re everywhere. And some of them are even saying stuff about your career.” Jay took a deep breath, his expression softening. He gently tilted your head so your gazes locked, his thumb brushing the skin under your eyes. “Y/N,” he said, his voice serious, “I don’t care. I am signed with the eagles. If I call Namjoon he will for sure understand that you have done nothing to deserve this and there won’t be any consequences. Don’t worry about me.” You sighed deeply, sitting up as you glanced at him, your face pale. “I should’ve been more careful with what I posted.” you said softly, your voice laced with regret.  “You should turn off your comments on your posts. Or privatize them. It’s just... it’s too much. You don’t need this.” “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low but firm, “I won’t delete any pictures. I’m proud of them. Proud of us. I’m happy to have you here, with me. You don’t need to apologize for any of this.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he stopped you by leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours. You stiffened for a second, then melted into it, your hands sliding to his shoulders as you kissed him back.

When you broke apart, he held you close, his hands still gently cradling your face. “I won’t delete them, Y/N,” he repeated, his voice steady. You held your breath for a second, considering his words. “But they’re... they’re being so cruel.” “They don’t matter,” he said firmly, kissing your forehead before standing up. “They can say whatever they want. I like you Y/N. Hell I even might love you. I love being there for you.  And if that means dealing with some crap along the way? So be it. I’m not going anywhere.” You didn’t say anything for a moment, your eyes searching his face. And then, finally, you nodded, your shoulders relaxing a little. Oh lord.  He said the L word.  Or well almost.  A month after the two of you started dating. His heart was racing waiting for your answer.  “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try. I just don’t want to hurt you.” “You’re not,” he said, smiling softly. “You’re not hurting me, Y/N. I’ll handle it. We’ll handle it.”  His heart clenched when you didn’t say it back. But it was fine. He also didn’t really say ‘i love you’. If he was going to say those three words he will do it properly.  You gave him a small, grateful smile before looking down at your phone again. “I’ll turn off my notifications,” you said quietly, tapping the screen to go into your settings. He hummed and pressed a kiss onto your head again. “Turn your phone off completely.I’ll think of a way to deal with this.” You sniffed and followed his instructions, turning your phone off.  “I’ll see you when I get back, okay baby?” he said, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. You nodded, your eyes following him with a mixture of longing and sadness. “Okay,” you whispered, “Go kick Riverfields arse.” He smiled. “Of course.” 

Jay’s fingers tightened around his phone as he scrolled through a flood of notifications, his stomach sinking with every word he saw. His vision blurred slightly, not from the tears threatening to rise, but from the sheer intensity of the anger and frustration that kept bubbling up with each new comment. He figured out the hate came from his “fans”. Disliking him having a girlfriend. Apparently that gave them the right to hate on you and him as well, commenting on his recent instagram photo dump about how he should not be with you, how you are just together with him for his fame.  He scrolled to the top of his instagram account page. 26.515 followers.  Most of them only followed him after you posted pictures tagging him.  The worst part? It wasn’t just his account. It was spilling over onto his father’s business page too. His blood ran cold as he read the comments infecting the companies page and his fathers personal account as well. Why drag his family into this? He hadn’t even had the chance to tell his parents personally that he was seeing you seriously. He ran a hand through his hair, his chest tightening.  “Yo, Jay.” Jake nudged his arm from the seat next to him, lowering his voice to avoid catching the attention of the others. “You good, man? You’ve been glued to your phone the whole ride.” Jay forced a tight smile, barely looking up. “I’m fine. Just dealing with some… stuff.” Jake frowned, unconvinced, but nodded, deciding to drop it for now. “Alright. Can you forget about that stuff when we are on the ice later? We need you focused." “Yeah. Sure.” Jay muttered, already zoning out again. The bus pulled into the rink parking lot, and as the team shuffled off, Jay hung back, letting everyone else move ahead while he stayed by the bus for a moment. He glanced at his phone one last time, taking a deep breath before dialing his dad’s number.

“Son,” his dad’s familiar voice greeted him, warm but gentle, like always. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the game right now? Your mom and I are trying to watch a live stream of it later.” Jay hesitated, his grip on the phone tightening. “Yeah, I know. I just… I need to talk to you about something first." There was a pause on the other end. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?” Jay let out a slow breath, his free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Sort of. It’s about… someone." “Someone?” his dad asked, the slightest note of curiosity creeping into his voice. “Go on.” “There’s this girl,” Jay began, the words awkward and halting as he tried to piece them together. “Her name’s Y/N, and we’ve been… seeing each other. It’s been a little while now. She’s amazing, Dad. She’s smart, kind, funny. There was a pause on the other end before his dad’s voice returned, calm but kind. “I see. That’s lovely, Jay. And you’re calling me because…?”

Jay leaned against the side of the bus, staring down at the asphalt. “Because people found out. She’s a content creator. She makes videos, book reviews, vlogs stuff like that. She’s got a big following, but… I guess some people who follow me don’t like the idea of us being together. And now, they’re tearing her apart online. She’s getting all this hate, Dad, and it’s… it’s bad. Even the company’s socials are getting hit because of me.” His dad let out a soft sigh, and Jay could picture him leaning back in his chair, likely pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did when he was thinking. “The social media team filled me in earlier today,” his dad admitted. “They’ve been monitoring the situation and handling most of it, trying to keep it from escalating on our platforms. I didn’t want to distract you with it, especially with how important tonight’s game is.” Jay’s jaw clenched. “It’s bad, Dad. They’re coming for her like she did something wrong just by being with me. She doesn’t deserve this. I don’t even know how to fix it.” “You can’t control what people say, son,” his dad said gently. “I know it’s frustrating, but people always talk, especially when someone they admire starts living their life outside of the image those fans have built up in their heads. This isn’t Y/N’s fault, and it’s not yours either.” Jay leaned against the side of the bus, staring at the asphalt below. “I feel like I dragged her into this mess, though. She didn’t ask for any of it. And now, even the company is getting hit because of me.” His dad’s voice softened even further. “Jay, listen to me. The company can handle itself. That’s why we have a team in place, to deal with things like this. What matters to me, what matters to your mom, is that you’re happy. And if Y/N is a part of that happiness, then we’ll support you. People will always find reasons to criticize. It’s not fair, but it’s the reality of being in the spotlight.” His dad paused, then spoke with quiet conviction. “Does she make you happy?” Jay blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of the question. “Yeah. She does. A lot.” “Then don’t let anyone take that away from you,” his dad said firmly. “And don’t let her think for one second that she’s not worth it. People like to tear others down because they think they can. But if you and Y/N stick together, you can get through this. And as for the company? That’s my problem, not yours. You let me handle that.” Jay swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “Thanks, Dad. I just… thank you.” “You can always talk to me, son,” his dad replied. “And when you’re ready, bring her by. Your mom will want to meet her, and frankly, so do I. Anyone who can make you this happy has to be someone special.”

Jay managed a small smile, despite the weight in his chest. “I will. Soon.” “Good. Now go focus on your game. I’ll be watching." “Love you, Dad,” Jay said softly. “Love you too, son.”

Jay stepped onto the ice with a single-minded focus: win. The rage bubbling inside him from the past few hours made his movements sharp and aggressive. Every stride, every pass, every check was fueled by his anger and frustration.  The puck dropped, and the first faceoff was brutal. Jay muscled past his opponent, sending the puck flying toward Heeseung, who immediately began driving it down the rink.  Minutes into the game, it became clear to everyone that Jay wasn’t playing with his usual calm control. He slammed into one of the opposing players with a shoulder check that sent the guy sprawling onto the ice. The whistle blew sharply, but Jay barely flinched, skating back into position with a steely glare.

“Jay!” Soobin hissed as they lined up for the next play. “What the hell, man? Pull it back a little!” Jay ignored him. Later, during a scramble near the boards, another player tried to corner him. Jay shoved him off harder than necessary, sending the guy crashing into the plexiglass. The opposing bench erupted, yelling at the refs for a call. The ref blew the whistle and signaled for a penalty. “Two minutes in the box,” the he barked, pointing at Jay. Jay didn’t argue. He skated to the penalty box, sitting down heavily on the bench, his chest heaving. He yanked off his helmet, running a hand through his damp hair. He saw his teammates exchanging worried glances on the bench, CC pacing furiously behind them. Jay leaned his head back onto the wall of the box trying to calm down his breathing. It’s going to be fine. His dad was taking care of it. It’s going to be fine.  But at the same time he had to think of you, being alone in your apartment, probably not listening to his advice to not read anything, to turn off your phone and the rage inside his chest bubbled up more than ever before.  Back on the ice, the team fought to kill off the penalty, but Jay could barely focus on the game happening around him. His jaw clenched as he stared at the rink, replaying the hateful comments in his mind. His fists tightened as he thought about how powerless he’d felt seeing you scroll through them.

The penalty ended, and Jay burst back onto the ice with even more intensity. He intercepted a pass, speeding toward the goal with laser focus. An opposing defender tried to stop him, and Jay plowed through played the puck to Heesung and Heeseung set the puck into the goal. Just seconds later the first period ended. “What the hell are you doing out there?” the coach snapped, grabbing Jay by the arm when he arrived at the bench. “We don’t need you fouling around, Park. Pull it together or you’re sitting for the rest of the game. I want to see a fair game, no playing dirty or brutally.” Jay didn’t respond, just pulled his arm free and sat heavily on the bench. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, but he didn’t care. When the final whistle blew, the team had won, but his excitement over the win was muted. As they filed back into the locker room, Jay stayed quiet, avoiding the others. He showered quickly, the water doing little to cool his temper. By the time he was back on the bus, his teammates were chatting and laughing, but Jay sat silently, his gaze fixed out the window.  All he wanted was to get to you. He needed to see you, you, and figure out what the hell to do next.

You were sprawled out on your living room floor, one hand mindlessly stroking Gracie’s soft fur while your other arm draped over your eyes. The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting stripes of light across the room. Your phone sat next to you, buzzing intermittently with notifications you refused to check. Jay had told you not to look. He’d texted you three times already since leaving, urging you to ignore the comments, to stay offline. But you couldn’t. Gracie let out a soft purr as you scratched behind her ears. You sighed deeply and picked up your phone, opening youtube first. It didn’t take long to find the catalyst for the whole situation. In the vlog you posted yesterday, a brief six-second clip of Jay had made it in. His face wasn’t blurred. Combined with the few Instagram stories you’d posted over the past few weeks of cute cafés and hockey rinks, plus his own post of the two of you hugging after his last game, it was more than enough for people to piece things together. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, someone had leaked pictures from your private spam account.  You stared at the photos now flooding your twitter feed, a lump forming in your throat. Pictures of you out on dates, at the weekly movie night at Jays dorm, pictures you took of him cooking and snuggling with Gracie. Your mind raced, trying to figure out who could’ve leaked them. You trusted everyone on that account. Or at least, you thought you did.

You didn’t only get hate. There were supportive comments from your viewers and fans that were happy about you and Jay, of course some of them more and some less. Many speculated that Han and you were a thing, but kept it in private. You could now see why they were thinking that. Apparently you were the only one not thinking that.  “God, I’m so over this,” you muttered, dropping your phone onto the floor and rubbing your hands over your face. The harsh buzz of the doorbell startled you, followed by an unmistakable series of rapid, heavy knocks.  “Y/N, open up!” Before you could even stand up to open it, Taki was already stepping inside, his face clouded with concern. “Y/N,” he said softly, setting down his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes before coming over to you. “Are you okay?”

You tried for a smile, but it faltered almost immediately. “Not really,” you admitted, sitting up. “But I’m surviving, I guess.” Taki kneeled down next to you and gently pulled you into a hug. “Jay told me to come check on you. He’s worried,” he said, his tone low but comforting. “Well he told Yudai but he isn't here this weekend so Yudai told me and yeah.” You sighed, pulling back and gesturing for him to sit on the couch. “He shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want you worrying too.” “That’s my job as your brother,” he said lightly, flopping down onto the couch and patting the seat next to him. “Now sit and tell me what’s going on.” You hesitated for a moment before joining him, Gracie hopping into your lap the second you sat down. As you scratched behind her ears, the words tumbled out. “It’s a mess, Taki,” you began. “I messed up. I didn’t blur Jay’s face in my vlog, and between that and his post, his… fans figured out we’re dating. And now they hate me for it.”

Taki frowned, his expression softening as he listened. “Why would they hate you? That doesn’t make any sense. Jay seems like a great guy, and you guys look happy together.” You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s the problem, Taki. They think I’m not good enough for him, or that I’m using him for his money or his career. And some of them are just angry that I exist.” He tilted his head, clearly confused. “I don’t get it. Why would they think that?” You hesitated, running your fingers through Gracie’s fur. “Because Jay isn’t just some college hockey player, Taki. He’s already signed with one of the best NHL teams. He has a future most people can only dream about. And his parents? They own this insanely successful company. They’re millionaires. So… yeah, some people don’t like that he’s with me instead of, I don’t know, someone richer or more famous or -” “Someone stupid,” Taki interrupted, cutting you off with a shake of his head. “That’s ridiculous. You’re amazing, Y/N. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot.” His words brought a small smile to your face. “Thanks, Taki. But these people…they think I’m ruining everything for him.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s so stupid,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “It’s not like they even know him. And Jay doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to let other people tell him who he can date.” You shook your head. “He’s not. He’s been so… so amazing through all of this. But I don’t want him to have to deal with this either, you know? He’s already under so much pressure.” Taki studied you for a moment before leaning back, his tone softening. “Look, I don’t know much about this whole fan thing, but I do know one thing - Jay really likes you. That dude makes heart eyes at you every breathing second. And honestly, I think you like him just as much.”

You glanced at him, surprised by his sudden insight. “So,” he continued, a small smile tugging at his lips, “stop worrying about what other people think. The two of you are perfect for each other.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “When did you get so wise?" “I’ve always been wise,” he teased, nudging your shoulder, “Wise enough to go to Yudais party today. And you are coming along!” You groaned, shaking your head. “Taki, I’m really not in the mood.” He grinned, undeterred. “Too bad. Yudai’s letting me come, and Niki’s gonna be there too. You can hang out with us all night if you want. No pressure to talk to anyone else. Just come.” You hesitated, but the earnest look in his eyes made it hard to say no. “Fine,” you relented. He did a celebratory fist bump. 

The moment Niki barreled into your apartment, hyped to be allowed to come to a college party and not having to sneak home and being allowed to drink, you knew your night would be more fun than you anticipated. When you stepped into the kitchen, the smell of alcohol and the clinking of glasses greeted you. Taki wasted no time, zeroing in on the lineup of bottles on the counter like a kid in a candy store. “Oh, look at this!” he exclaimed, grabbing a bottle of tequila. “You’re not drinking that straight,” you warned, though your tone lacked its usual sternness. Yudai appeared just then, already buzzed. “Finally! Took you guys long enough. Shots! Let’s go.” Taki and Niki immediately nodded excitedly. You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest as Yudai handed out glasses. “One shot,” you warned the younger two, holding up a finger. “Yeah, yeah,” Taki muttered, clinking his glass against Niki’s and Yudai’s before throwing it back. You took your own shot, the burn of alcohol making you wince slightly. “Another round?” Yudai asked, holding up the bottle, ignoring your protest.

Before you knew it, the four of you were gathered around the beer pong table. Taki and Niki were practically bouncing with excitement, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their enthusiasm. “Y/N, you’re terrible at this,” Taki whined after you completely missed the table. “Careful, or you’re getting water for your next turn,” you shot back, making him laugh. As the game went on, you allowed yourself to let loose a little more. You even took a third? fourth? shot when Yudai passed it to you. Despite your growing haziness, you noticed Niki wobbling slightly as he lined up his next shot. When Yudai handed him another shot, you stepped in. “Okay, that’s enough for you,” you said, plucking the glass from his hand. “Y/N!” Niki groaned, pouting at you. “Nope,” you said firmly. “Water. Now.” Taki, his face already flushed from the alcohol, groaned dramatically. “You’re such a buzzkill.”

“Better a buzzkill than dealing with you puking later,” you retorted, handing them both water bottles from the counter. “Drink these or I’m telling Mom and aunt Aiko. That shut them up quickly, and you felt a small surge of triumph as they grudgingly obeyed. You turned back to the beer pong table, only to freeze when you caught sight of two familiar figures across the room. Felix and Chaeryeong stood by the doorway, their eyes scanning the crowd. Until Felix's gaze landed squarely on you. Your breath hitched. You managed a small, shy wave, but when Felix nudged Chaeryeong and they both started moving toward you, panic set in. You were sure they saw, they knew what was going on and if they came and asked if you were fine, you weren't able to pretend. Not today.  “I need some air,” you mumbled to your brothers, pushing off the counter. Before they could protest, you slipped out the back door, the cool night air hitting your face as you tried to steady your breathing. The cool night air hit your face like a slap, and you stumbled slightly as you stepped outside, gripping the railing for support, trying to steady your breathing.

Jay walked into the swim team's house behind Heeseung, Jake, and Beomgyu. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for a party, but you texted him that you are playing babysitter for your brother and his friend and now he had no option but to get dressed for the spring break party. Against his better judgement, he spent the last few hours scrolling through the hateful comments, which had dampened his mood drastically.  He barely registered the chatter and the music blasting around him. His gaze was searching for you, eyes scanning the room, dodging drunk students as he made his way deeper into the crowd. He didn’t have to look for long before spotting Felix, who was talking to a couple of people near the kitchen. He noticed Jay almost instantly, and when their eyes met, he gave him a sympathetic, almost understanding look. “Have you seen Y/N?” he asked, his voice tight with concern. Felix nodded, his expression softening. “She was here a few minutes ago, but I think she… kind of fled outside. Jay’s heart clenched at his words. He didn’t waste another second, muttering a quick thanks to Felix before moving toward the backdoor.  He spotted you almost immediately. You were leaning against the small shed in the garden, gazing into the dark sky.

Jay made his way over to you, shivering slightly against the cold. He took a step forward, then another, his feet heavy as he approached you. His heart skipped a beat when he softly whispered your name, “Y/N.” You turned toward him at the sound of your name, and for a split second, he caught the flash of recognition in your eyes before they softened with relief.  “Jay…”, your voice cracked slightly, but it was enough to make his heart tighten. He crossed the small distance, wrapping his arms around you. “Hi baby. Why are you outside? It’s so cold.”, he asked, his voice quiet against the crown of your hair. You shook your head a little, your lips pressing together as you tried to force a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I just…needed a minute.” Jay nodded. He wasn’t going to push you for details - not yet. He knew you would tell him in your own time. Instead, he pulled back slightly, taking our face into his hands and lightly rested his forehead against yours. “I get it,” he murmured. “You don’t have to explain anything. I just… I needed to see you. Needed to know you were okay.” The tension in your shoulders seemed to ease at his touch, and you let out a small sigh, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I’m just so frustrated, Jay. I can’t even look my friends in the face right, and… everything’s just so much.”

Jay’s hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently massaging the tension there. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You didn’t say anything in response, but he could feel your body relax further in his arms, your chest rising and falling as you leaned into him. “Come inside with me,” he whispered, pulling back just slightly so he could meet your eyes. “We don’t have to go back to the party, but I’m not leaving you out here alone." You hesitated for a moment, your brows furrowed in thought, but then you nodded.  “Okay,” you nodded, strengthening your shoulders. “We should probably check on Taki and Niki. I am sure they ignored my warning about snitching to mom and kept drinking.” Jay laughed and led you back inside, the noise of the party growing louder as you stepped into the living room. Drunk students were lingering in the room, laughing, talking, and occasionally yelling over the blaring music. Jay’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted Taki and Niki slumped on a couch, giggling like children as they watched a Mario Kart game unfold on the TV. A group of people had gathered around the players, cheering and shouting encouragement. “There they are,” Jay said, nodding toward the couch. You followed his gaze and laughed softly. “Of course they’d be there.”

Taki spotted you both and immediately waved, his hand flopping dramatically as he almost tipped off the couch. “Y/N! Get over here!” Jay chuckled, steering you toward the duo, his hand never leaving the small of your back. When you reached them, Taki was giggling uncontrollably at Niki’s horrified expression as his kart spun out of control. “Bro, you just drove off Rainbow Road. Again." “Shut up,” Niki muttered, and turned to you, “Y/N save me. I can’t do this. I don’t even have a license yet!”  You burst out laughing and softly shoved your brother out of the way so you could sit down on the sofa next to him. Your brother immediately dropped his head onto your lap and giggled again.  “How much did you drink, Taki.”, you asked while caressing your hair. He shook his head and protested, he didn’t drink too much! The world isn’t even spinning yet! You just rolled your eyes and signed.  Jay chuckled, settling himself on the floor by your legs, his shoulder brushing against your knee. His gaze kept drifting to you. Your gentle touch as you smoothed Taki's hair, the way your lips curved into a tender smile. God, you were beautiful. And when you were like this, soft and sweet and effortlessly loving, he couldn’t help but fall for you even harder. You looked down and caught his eye winking at him. He smiled and focused back onto the TV screen where Yoshi just took another nose dive into space. He felt your long nails slightly scratching along the sensitive skin of his neck and shivered.  “Y/N, help me!” Niki groaned dramatically, interrupting your moment by waving his controller in front of your face like it might somehow convince you to help him. You rolled your eyes, your hand still absently moving up and down Jay’s neck. “Niki, you can’t just give up. You gotta power through.” “I am not giving up!” Niki insisted, his tone petulant, and you laughed. “Yes, you are.” You glanced down at Jay, your fingers not stopping. “Jay, save him. He’s apparently incapable of surviving Rainbow Road on his own.” Jay tilted his head to look up at you, grinning. “What do I get if I rescue him?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “My eternal gratitude?” “Not enough,” Jay teased, leaning slightly against your leg. “I’m risking my life here. Niki’s going to blame me if I lose.” “Jayyyy,” Niki groaned, flopping back against the couch.

“Fine, fine.” You nudged Jay gently with your foot and leaned forward, whispering. “How about I make it worth your while in ways Niki doesn’t need to know about?”  Jay felt his neck and ears flush red at that comment, but took the controller form Niki’s outstretched hand. “Deal. But if I lose, I’m blaming you for distracting me. You snorted. “You can’t be serious.” Jay looked up at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Dead serious. You’re too pretty. It’s unfair.” A faint blush crept up your cheeks, but you rolled your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “Just play the game, hockey boy.” As Jay took control, the game resumed, and Niki immediately began shouting instructions from beside him. “No, no, don’t take that shortcut! It’s a trap!” Jay ignored him, more or less expertly navigating the twists and turns of the map. He leaned forward, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration.

“See?” he said, glancing up at you for a split second as he rounded a sharp curve and caught up with the other players. Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a challenge, given that Jay was sober while the other players seemed barely capable of walking in a straight line, let alone focusing on the screen and steering a virtual motorbike. “This is how it’s done, Niki.” “Show-off,” you muttered, but you were smiling. “Jealous?” Jay teased, barely dodging a banana peel. “Not at all.” “Uh-huh.” Jay smirked, his confidence growing as he passed another racer.  You crossed your arms, pretending to be unimpressed, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “I’ll admit it when you win, not before.” “Challenge accepted,” Jay nodded. As the game progressed, Niki alternated between cheering and groaning, Taki dozed off in your lap, and Jay kept stealing glances at you, his chest swelling with a mix of pride and affection every time he saw you smile. By the time Jay crossed the finish line in fifth place, he threw his hands up in mock victory, turning to you with a triumphant grin. “Hah! Look at that!” You laughed, shaking your head. “Well done babe.” Niki jumped up and almost threw himself into Jays’ arms. “Thank you, Jay. I will always remember this!” He tried giving Jay a kiss, but Jay stopped him and sat him down next to him again, fending off the younger's love. “No worries Niki.”, Jay grabbed the remote again and got ready for the next round. This time the other players decided on playing an easier route, choosing… Bowser's castle? “I’m going to use the bathroom,” you said softly, leaning toward Jay and kissing his head. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He tore his eyes away from the screen. “Are you sure? Should i come along?” You gave him a small smile, nodding, while you carefully moved Takis head, waking him up in the process. “I’m fine, Jay. Promise. I am a big girl.”

Reluctantly, he let you go, watching as you disappeared down the hallway. Turning back to Taki and Niki, he chuckled at the scene in front of him. Niki was now lying on his back on the couch, kicking his feet in mock frustration as he held an empty red Solo cup. “I hate this game! Who invented this stupid road with no sides? I’m suing Nintendo!” “Yeah, good luck with that,” Jay said, smirking as he leaned against the couch, the controller abandoned. Taki squinted at him, his face scrunching in exaggerated concentration. “You… you’re Jay, right? The hockey guy. With the money.” “Yeah, Taki. That’s me,” Jay said, amused. Taki sat up dramatically, pointing a finger at him, though his hand wobbled. “Listen, Jay. I like you. You’re cool.” He paused, his expression turning serious or as serious as a drunk 17-year-old could manage. “But if you hurt Y/N… I’ll kick you in the nuts.” Niki snorted, not even trying to stifle his laughter. Jay burst out laughing, ruffling Taki’s hair. “Duly noted, Taki. I’ll keep that in mind.” “I mean it,” Taki insisted, poking Jay’s chest. “She’s awesome. And you’re, like, just a dude. So don’t screw it up. She can replace you. Easily.” “I won’t,” Jay said, his voice softening. “I promise.” Taki seemed satisfied with that, flopping back against the couch.

After listening to their banter for a few minutes Jay glanced toward the hallway where you had disappeared. You’d been gone for a while now. He stood up, detangling his limbs from Taki and Niki, ignoring their complaints, and headed toward the toilets. As he moved through the crowd, he nearly bumped into Jake, who was coming from the kitchen with a drink in hand. “Whoa, man. Watch it,” Jake said, grinning. “You lose someone?” “Yeah,” Jay muttered, his brows furrowed. “Have you seen Y/N?” Jake tilted his head thoughtfully. “Nope. Did you lose her?” Jay shook his head, scanning the room once more for any sign of you. “She said she was going to the bathroom, but it’s been a while.” “Hmm.” Jake glanced toward the hallway. “Could be a line.” Jay shrugged, though unease prickled at him. “Maybe. I’ll go check upstairs. She likes the bathroom up there better. Fewer drunk people hanging around.” “I’ll come with you.”, Jake nodded and followed Jay, as he navigated through the crowd. As they walked, Jay dodged a group of tipsy girls stumbling into the kitchen, his focus narrowing as they approached the staircase. Jay climbed the stairs, Jake following a step behind. He was halfway to the bathroom door when his steps faltered. There, at the end of the hall, you were standing. Talking to Han.

Jay’s jaw clenched as he stopped in his tracks, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. Han leaned slightly forward, his expression a mix of regret and sadness. You stood across from him, calm and composed, your arms loosely crossed. “I should-” Jay started, stepping toward you, but Jake grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t,” Jake said firmly. Jay turned to glare at him. “Why not? He’s-” “Look,” Jake cut him off, gesturing subtly toward the two of you. “They’re not fighting. She looks fine. And Han looks like a kicked puppy. Let them talk.” Jay hesitated, his fists clenching at his sides. He hated watching you and Han together. Resentment boiled in his chest. Still, he couldn’t ignore Jake’s reasoning. You didn’t look distressed. Your body language wasn’t defensive or angry, just... patient. Whatever was being said, it didn’t seem like it was hurting you.

His eyes snapped up when he saw you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, his face crumpled into a mix of regret and hesitation. “Hi, Han,” you said evenly, even though your heart started racing. You really didn’t want to deal with this now, not when you had a few drinks and he probably had as well. You gave him a polite, tight smile and tried to walk past him, but his hand shot out, gently catching your wrist. “Y/N, wait,” he said, his voice quiet but urgent. You stopped, glancing down at his hand on your arm before meeting his gaze. “What do you want Han?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Can we talk? Please,” he said, his voice tinged with desperation. You hesitated. After a moment, you sighed. “Okay. Talk. Han let go of your wrist, his hand dropping limply to his side. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as he steadied himself. “I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… I’ve been such an idiot. And I hate how things are between us now.” You crossed your arms, staying silent as he struggled to get his words out. There were no things between you. Nothing. Nada.  “I’ve loved you for a long time, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice soft but heavy with emotion. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment we became friends. And I knew, I knew, you didn’t feel the same way. But I told myself that maybe if I waited long enough, if I was just patient, you’d come around. You’d come to see me as more than your childhood best friend.” Your chest tightened as his words sank in. Since he first met you? That means it would have been more than 8 years at this point.  “I know now how stupid that was. Delusional, even,” he continued, his voice growing quieter. “You were never anything but honest with me. You were my friend, and I took that friendship and twisted it into something selfish. I let my feelings fester, and when Jay came into the picture… I lost it. I couldn’t handle it. I thought I’d been waiting for so long, and then he just showed up and…” Han trailed off, his eyes glistening under the dim light. He took another deep breath, his voice cracking as he said, “I hurt you, Y/N. I said things, did things, that I’ll never forgive myself for. And the worst part is, I knew how much I was hurting you in the moment, but I let it happen anyway. I was bitter and jealous, and that’s on me. None of it was your fault. Nothing I said at that party is the truth. I don't think of you like that, I just wanted to hurt you, like you hurt me. Even if you didn’t intent to." Your throat felt tight, but you forced yourself to respond. “Han…” “No, let me finish,” he interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “I need to say this. I need you to know how sorry I am. For everything. For ruining what we had, for making you feel like you couldn’t trust me. I don’t expect you to forgive me - not right now, maybe not ever. But I had to tell you how sorry I am.”

You looked at him, your emotions warring between anger, sadness, and something softer. “Han, I’m not going to pretend this didn’t hurt me,” you said finally, your voice steady but quiet. “You were my best friend. I don’t know if I can forgive you. I don’t even know if I’m ready to try." Han nodded, his expression pained but understanding. “I get it. I do. And if you need space, I’ll give you that. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of never telling you how much I regret all of it. And i don’t want you to avoid the others anymore. They worry Y/N. A lot. If you want me to, I'll stop hanging around them, but please talk to them." Before you could respond, you caught movement over his shoulder. Glancing up, you saw Jay and Jake at the end of the hallway. Jay’s jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on you, while Jake hovered beside him, looking more curious than concerned. Han followed your gaze and turned to look. When he spotted Jay, a bitter smile flickered across his face before fading into something more resigned. He turned back to you, his voice softening. “I’m glad he makes you happy, Y/N. In a way, I couldn’t.” You blinked, unsure of what to say. After a moment, you simply nodded.  “Maybe someday we can go back to being friends,” he added, his tone wistful. “Maybe,” you said quietly, offering him a small, tentative smile. As you stepped around Han and headed toward Jay, his hand immediately found yours. His eyes searched yours, concern etched into his features. “What happened?” he asked, his voice low and protective. “Nothing,” you said softly, squeezing his hand and smiling at him. He really made you happy. “He just needed to talk. I’m fine.” Jay didn’t look convinced, but he nodded, brushing his thumb against your hand as he guided you back downstairs.

When the three of you rejoined Jays friends in the kitchen your mind couldn’t stop reeling. Han might not think you were a slut and a gold digger, but apparently many others do and they let you know they do. Every time you open your phone in fact. You found yourself reaching for the nearest drink table, eager for a distraction. You felt Jays gaze on you as you poured yourself a cup of something pink and unidentifiable, but he didn’t stop you, watching carefully instead. The drink wasn’t particularly strong and you couldn’t figure out what you were drinking, but the slight burn of the alcohol was enough for you to set the cup aside again. Getting drunk wasn’t going to help you figure anything out right.  You plastered a smile on your face, laughing along when needed, determined to shake off the heaviness from your conversation with Han.  “Let’s dance,” you said, taking a sip and tugging at Jays hand. Jay obliged, though his gaze lingered on you, concern etched into his features. The two of you moved with the music, and for a fleeting moment, you almost convinced yourself that the tightness in your chest was fading. It wasn’t. If you were honest it just got worse. The music, the people laughing, the overwhelming smell of sweat, weed and alcohol made you want to scream. Han’s words replayed in your mind. His regret, his confession, the way he said Jay made you happy in a way he couldn’t. You didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Relieved? Angry? All of it mixed together? Jay noticed. Of course he noticed. “Y/N,” he said softly, leaning down so only you could hear him over the music. “Let’s go home.” You blinked up at him, the forced smile slipping from your face. “What? No, I’m fine,” you lied, shaking your head. “I want to stay.” Jay didn’t let go of your hand. His gaze was steady, grounding, as he said, “You’re not fine. Let’s go.” Your chest tightened, and for a second, you wanted to argue.  “Okay,” you whispered.

Before leaving, the two of you searched for Taki and Niki, who were both passed out on the couch, tangled in a heap of limbs and half-empty cups. Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get Niki. Can you grab Taki?” It took some effort, but the two of you managed to haul your brother and his friend upstairs to Yudai’s room. Jay carefully laid Niki on the bed while you tucked Taki in beside him, brushing his hair out of his face as he mumbled incoherently in his sleep. You and Jay exchanged a small, exhausted smile before quietly slipping out of the room.

The walk back to your flat was quiet, the cold night air sobering you slightly but doing little to settle the storm in your chest. Jay’s hand was warm and steady around yours, his thumb tracing small circles against your skin. When you finally reached your place, you let out a shaky breath as the door clicked shut behind you. You kicked off your shoes and let yourself fall flat onto your sofa, startling Gracie, who was resting on her bed next to the cushions.  Jay watched as you slumped onto the couch. He sat down beside you, close but not too close, waiting for you to speak. For a moment, the room was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the heater kicking on. Then, the words spilled out of you. “I don’t know how to deal with this, Jay,” you started, your voice tight and wavering. “What Han said... God, I don’t even know how to feel about it. He’s been my friend for so long, and I love him. Platonically. But he didn’t. Doesn’t? Oh I don’t know. Looking him in the eyes today-” Your voice cracked, and you shook your head. “It was so hard. I hated it.” Jay’s hand moved to your back, resting there lightly as you continued. 

“And my friends…” you continued, your voice rising slightly as the words tumbled out faster. “I can’t even look them in the eyes because I don’t want them to feel like they have to choose between me and Han. I don’t want them to pick sides. I just- I want everything to go back to normal, but it can’t, can it? And then he offers that he could just pull back a bit? To not hang out with them so I can do so? I don’t want him to do that. They are our friends. No matter what the two of us are.” Your breath hitched, and you covered your face with your hands for a moment before dropping them to your lap. “And I just want to stop feeling sad. I want to stop being like this so you don’t have to worry about me all the time. You already have enough on your plate, and I-” “Hey,” Jay interrupted softly, his hand pressing slightly firmer against your back. “Stop. Just stop for a second." You glanced at him, your eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. He met your gaze, his expression filled with so much tenderness it made your chest ache. “I’m glad you told me all of this,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I need to know when things are weighing on you, Y/N. I want to know. You don’t have to bottle it all up, okay?” You nodded slightly, your lips pressing together as you tried to hold back tears. It really was the first time that you’ve told him what's going on you realized.  “It’s normal that you feel like shit right now, Y/N. If you weren’t I would be worried even more. If Jake told me he had a crush on me since highschool and then cursed me out I would not leave my room for months, but look at you powering through. I know you don't feel like everything is okay, but give yourself a bit of time. It’s going to be weird and hard for a bit, but at one point you will be laughing about the whole situation.”, he shook his head and moved next to you onto the sofa, slightly adjusting you, so that you were lying in his arms.  “And about the social media stuff,” Jay continued, “my dad’s already on it. He has a team of professionals who deal with this kind of thing. They’re going to handle it, and they’ll give you tips on what to do. You don’t have to figure this out on your own. We’ve got it covered.” You blinked, surprised. “Your dad knows?” Jay gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah. He wanted to help." You nodded slowly, the weight on your chest easing just a fraction. “You don’t have to solve everything by yourself,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Let me take some of the weight, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

You loved waking up in Jay's arms. He was over more mornings than not so the two of you have built up your own little routine by now. Jay was responsible for breakfast, while you handled the drinks. A iced americano for him and a different drink for you and a bit of milk for Gracie, since you are easily influenced by her pleading meows. Jay scolded you for it everyday, but didn’t stop you. Instead he bought cat milk for her. Simp. His phone buzzed with an incoming call. Jay groaned, lifting his phone from your bedside table to check the caller ID. “It’s Coach Choi.”, he muttered, irritation clear in his voice. Answering the call, Jay’s tone was clipped but polite. “Yeah, Coach? What’s up?” You glanced up at him with a questioning look, but he just gave you a reassuring smile and mouthed, I’ll be okay. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but from the way Jay’s jaw tightened and his fingers paused in your hair, it was clear this wasn’t a casual check-in. “Alright. I’ll be there,” he finally said, ending the call with a heavy sigh. “What’s going on?” you asked, sitting up slightly. “Coach wants me at the rink,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “No idea why, but I have to go.” You frowned but nodded. “Okay.” Jay leaned down to kiss your forehead before grabbing his things. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Park.”, the Coach barked, “Sit.” Jay dropped himself onto one of the benches opposing his Coach. “What the hell is going on with you?” Coach Choi’s voice echoed off the tiled walls. “You think last night was acceptable? Playing like a damn wrecking ball and spending more time in the penalty box than on the ice? The penalty box isn’t where we win games!” Jay opened his mouth to respond, but Coach cut him off with a glare. “You’re the co-captain of this team, Jay. Do you understand what that means? It means you’re supposed to be a role model. Someone the younger guys look up to. You’re supposed to keep your head in the game, set the example - not be the one I have to bench because you can’t control your temper.” Jay clenched his jaw, his fists tightening on his thighs. He wanted to explain, to defend himself, but there was no way to deny that Coach was right. “If you’re distracted by something,” Coach continued, his tone hard but not unkind, “then you need to handle it. Whatever it is- your personal life, girl trouble, social media drama - I don’t care. You leave it at the door. You’re here to play hockey, not let everyone else clean up your mess. The mention of girl trouble made Jay’s stomach twist. He could hear the implication loud and clear. This wasn’t just about his performance; it was about you, about the backlash you were facing and how it was bleeding into his game. “Do you even realize the position you’re in, Park?” Coach’s voice softened slightly, his frustration giving way to something almost like concern. “You’re one of the most talented players we’ve had in years. Your future is right in front of you, but if you keep playing like you did last night, you’re going to ruin it before it even starts.” Jay took a deep breath, his head bowed. “I understand, Coach,” he said quietly. Coach sighed, running a hand over his face. “Good. Because I don’t want to see that kind of performance again. And if there’s something going on - something you need help with -  figure it out. Quickly.”  The words hit Jay like a slap to the face. He wanted to yell, to argue, but instead, he nodded stiffly. “I’ll do better next time.” Coach studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “See that you do. Ask Jeonghee if you need help with anything regarding that situation with your girl. Dismissed.” As Jay left the rink, his mind was a whirlwind of anger and frustration. He knew the Coach had heard about the social media backlash. But the thought of anyone, even his coach, implying you were a liability made his blood boil. You were the best thing in his life, and anyone who couldn’t see that could go to hell.

“Jay?” you called cautiously. He didn’t answer, instead walking straight over to you, plucking your book from your hands  and draping himself over you, his weight pressing you back against the cushions. “Jay!” you laughed, trying to sit up. “What-” He didn’t let you finish. His lips were on your neck, softly feathing it with kisses. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “Jay, wait,” you said between breaths, “what’s going on?” He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his own dark and intense. “I’m just so mad,” he muttered. “At Coach, at the stupid hate, at all of it. But then I come back here, and you’re just… you.” You blinked at him, your heart pounding. “Me?” “You,” he said, pressing another kiss to the side of your neck. “You’re perfect, and I don’t care what anyone else says. I don’t care if I have to fight every coach, every fan, and everyone else who doesn’t get it.” Your hands found his shoulders, slightly pushing him up. “Jay, slow down. What happened?” He sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. “Coach basically told me to get my head in the game or break up with you.” Your breath got caught in your throat. “He said that?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah,” Jay admitted, his voice low. “And I’m not breaking up with you. That’s not even an option.” You felt a wave of emotion crash over you, a mix of anger, gratitude, and love. You cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. “Jay, I’m sorry. This is all my fault.” “Stop,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “None of this is your fault. Don’t ever think that. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, Y/N. Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.” You nodded, your chest tight with emotion. “Okay.” Jay’s forehead rested against yours. “I just can’t stand the thought of anyone making you feel like you’re anything less than amazing.”

Jay’s forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm and steady against your skin. His voice was soft but filled with emotion. “I just can’t stand the thought of anyone making you feel like you’re anything less than amazing.”

His words sent a shiver through you, your heart swelling in your chest. A faint smile tugged at your lips as your hands slid up his shoulders, fingers brushing over the firm lines of his muscles, until they clasped together behind his neck.

“You’re doing a pretty good job of reminding me,” you whispered, your voice light but trembling slightly with emotion.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending warmth cascading through you. His lips brushed lightly over yours, teasing, before he murmured, “Good. Because you deserve to feel that way every second.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that sent your thoughts scattering.

His lips were hot and insistent against yours, moving with a fervent intensity that left you breathless. He kissed you deeply, his tongue teasing and coaxing you in a way that made your knees feel weak, even as you stood firm in his embrace. You responded without hesitation, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging slightly as he deepened the kiss further.

Jay’s hands weren’t idle; they traveled up and down your torso, his touch igniting a trail of warmth that lingered long after his fingers moved. His palms were firm yet gentle as they slid under the hem of the oversized hoodie you were wearing, the rough pads of his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your sides.

When his hands brushed the underside of your bra, you gasped softly against his lips, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. Your chest heaved, your heart racing as you tried to steady yourself.

“Jay,” you whimpered, the sound escaping unbidden as his lips left yours to trail a heated path down your jawline.

He stopped immediately, his movements slowing as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His pupils were blown wide, dark and intense, and the sight of him sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach. His voice was husky and careful, thick with restraint as he asked, “Can I touch you?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, your body alive with anticipation. You met his gaze, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

The way his expression shifted made your breath hitch. This man was going to drive you insane, and you didnt mind it a bit.

You were still asleep on Jay's naked chest when his phone rang. The sound of it being enough to wake you up from your slumber. You opened one of your eyes and squinted at Jay as he stretched towards the bedside table. He glanced at the caller ID and you felt him tense under your hands. “Hey Dad.”, he greeted his father. You pulled up the blanket over your naked bodies a bit more, the thought of his dad made you want to hide any evidence of what you did earlier in the afternoon. “Yes I am with Y/N.”, he said furrowing his eyebrows, listening to his dad again. You strained your ear to understand what his dad was saying but gave up after a few seconds of not being able to decipher any of his words.  “Got it,” Jay muttered. “Yeah, I’ll post it right. Thanks for handling this and for helping Y/N.” His dad answered something that made Jay chuckle. “Yes Dad I will…Yes…I will tell mom myself…I love you too.” Jay’s hand was tracing up and down your naked spin under the covers while he seemingly thought about what his dad just told him.  After a beat of silence he signed opened his phone again. “Dads team drafted something for us to post. We can post it whenever we want, wherever you feel comfortable posting it.” You swallowed hard, your heart clenching but you nodded. “What does it say?” Jay pulled up the text draft and handed you his phone. “This is what they wrote for me.” You rubbed your eyes a bit and sat up, the blanket pooling around your hip and Jays hands wandered to your waist, caressing it while you read the statement. 

“To my fans, followers, and everyone who has shown support throughout my career: I want to address something that’s deeply personal. Over the past few days, I’ve seen behavior I can’t and won’t tolerate. My girlfriend, Y/N, is someone I care deeply about, and she’s been nothing but kind, hardworking, and supportive. She doesn’t deserve the hate or invasion of privacy she’s endured. Let me be clear: if you claim to support me, you’ll respect her. Thank you to those who stand with us. To those who don’t, I don’t need you in my corner. – Jay ” You handed the phone back, your chest tightening with nerves. “And me?” He opened another email, handing you his phone again. “This is what they suggested for you.” “Hello everyone. This is my one and only statement. Harassment, defamation, and invasion of privacy are illegal, and I won’t hesitate to take legal action against anyone involved in such behavior. Sharing pictures of my private instagram account and then spreading lies about my intentions regarding my boyfriend, sending not only me but also him hate is taking it a step too far.  Those actions are listed as defamatory and are crimes. My legal team is currently collecting evidence and I will press charges. I will not forgive and will pursue the furthest extent of the law.  To those who’ve supported me: I am forever grateful for your love and support. – Y/N” You read the text, your anxiety creeping up with every line. “Since when do I have a legal team.”, you furrowed your eyes and looked at Jay.  He shrugged. “I am pretty sure my dads legal team is now also ours?” You looked back onto the phone. “I don’t know, Jay,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What if it makes things worse?”

Jay reached over, taking your hand in his. “It won’t,” he said firmly. “The people who care about you will stand behind you. Fuck the rest. You don’t need those clowns in your life.” You laughed and then nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The fallout was immediate. Comments and DMs flooded your notifications almost the second you posted your statements. You found yourself obsessively refreshing your phone, watching the numbers climb, rereading replies, and letting each one weigh heavier on your chest. It wasn’t until Jay plucked the phone from your hand, turned it off, and tucked it out of reach that you finally stopped. "Enough," he said firmly but gently, guiding you to your feet. "Come on, let’s do something else. Something not even remotely connected to that mess." Jay practically dragged you to the shower, shampooing your hair with so much care you were about to cry. Once you both were dressed and ready to go, he moved to the bookshelf in your bedroom and pulled out a battered copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, its spine cracked and corners softened by your years of love and annotations. He carefully tucked it into his bag along with your sketchbook and markers. You let him take your hand as he led you outside into the crisp March air. The evening was cool and the sun was just beginning to set, painting the horizon in different shades of amber and violet. By the time you reached your destination, darkness had settled in. You looked up, blinking in surprise at the sight of the familiar entryway. The grand double doors of the library loomed before you, its stone facade glowing faintly in the moonlight. “The library?” you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity as Jay pushed open one of the heavy doors and pulled you inside. “Yeah.” He nodded decisively, guiding you through the quiet halls to a small reading nook near one of the towering windows. “You told me you loved sketching here. So do it. I’ll sit here, read, and let you just...draw. Forget everything else.” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you dropped into one of the old, plush chairs in the corner. Jay crouched to unpack the bag, setting your sketchbook and markers into your lap. Then he settled into the chair beside you, flipping open your well-loved copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. For a while, the world narrowed down to the sound of pages turning and the soft scratch of your pen on paper. You let yourself drift, losing track of time until Jay nudged you, gesturing toward the clock. “We should head back,” he said, closing the book and sliding it into his bag. The walk back was quiet, save for the crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant hum of campus life winding down for the evening. You were starting to feel tired, despite the amount of sleep you’d gotten today, and leaned into Jay’s calming presence as the two of you strolled together. Neither of you was in the mood to cook, so you decided to grab something quick from the campus food hall. You were about to pile an arguably excessive amount of kimchi onto your plate when a familiar voice startled you “Y/N!" You turned, finding Felix standing there with a wide grin “Hi, Felix,” you said, smiling back at him. An actual smile, for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Are you alone?” he asked, grabbing a tray for himself. “Uh, no.” You shook your head, motioning toward Jay, who was setting his tray down at a table nearby. “I’m here with Jay. We just spent the day in the library.” “Studying?” Felix asked, his tone mockingly incredulous as he raised an eyebrow. You laughed, nudging his shoulder with your own. “No, you idiot. I was sketching, and Jay was reading.” “Thought so,” he replied with a smirk, loading up his tray with what could only be described as a even more reckless amount of kimchi. “If you’d told me you were studying, I wouldn’t have believed you anyway. No offense.” “None taken,” you teased, shaking your head. Felix glanced around the food hall, nodding toward a familiar table in the corner. “I’m here with some of the others. Wanna join us? Or we could join you?” You hesitated, looking over to where Jay was watching the two of you, his tray already on the table. He smiled at you, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

“I…” You trailed off, turning back to Felix, whose expression had turned a bit awkward. You took a breath, forcing yourself to push past the tension lingering in your chest. “I’d love to. Let me just grab Jay, and we’ll come sit with you. Are you at our usual table?” Felix nodded, motioning toward the familiar corner. “Yeah. Are you sure it’s fine? Han’s there too.” You paused, steadying yourself before answering. “It’s fine,” you said, your voice firmer than you expected. “I can handle it. We can all behave like adults, right?” Felix studied you for a moment, his freckled face softening with relief. “Of course.” “I’m sorry I avoided you all, Lix,” you admitted, setting your tray down on the counter as you rubbed your temples. “I needed to sort my shit out, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you guys.” “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle. He put down his tray down as well and pulled you into a warm hug. You blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears that threatened to well up, and wrapped your arms around him. When you finally separated, Felix gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “Let’s go, yeah? I’ll tell the others you’ll come over and make Chan move away from your seat near the heater.” “Thanks,” you chuckled with a small smile, picking up your tray and heading toward Jay. Jay raised an eyebrow as you approached, his expression curious. “Everything okay?” You nodded, setting your tray down next to his. “Felix invited us to join their table. Would that be okay with you?” “Of course,” Jay said easily, standing and grabbing his tray. He studied you for a second, “Is it fine for you?" “Yes.”, you said with a nod.  “Okay then let’s go, sweetheart.” The smile he gave you made your heart flutter. 

The two of you made your way to your usual table, where the rest of your friends were already seated. Lia waved you over enthusiastically, scooting her tray aside to make room for you both. “Look who’s here!” Felix announced as you and Jay slid into the seats. Han’s eyes flickered to you briefly, his expression unreadable, before he offered a small nod.  “Okay, serious question,” Minho said, leaning back in his chair looking at Jay with narrowed eyes. You noticed Jay tensing up next to you and you were ready to stop Minho when he continued. “Jay, you are a neutral party here. Do you think Changbin has a bubble but yes or no.” You blinked, startled by the abruptness of the question. You were expecting something completely different.  Jay snorted, all the tension from his body gone in seconds. “A bubble butt?”  “Oh my God,” Lia groaned, covering her face with her hands. “We are not doing this again. Not in front of a stranger.” “We are absolutely doing this again,” Yuna declared.  “His girlfriend is reading these books and in one they talk about bubble butts. She claims Binnie has one. He claims he doesn't.”, Seungmin explained, almost uninterested. “He is just doing squats,” Lia argued. “Lots of squats.” “Or implants,” Minho added, his expression completely deadpan.

“Implants?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow as he reached forward to dip his spoon into his food. Bang Chan leaned forward, his tone mock-scolding. “Don’t talk about him like that when Changbin is not here to defend himself.” “Who says I’m not here?” Everyone turned as Changbin appeared, tray in hand, eyebrows raised suspiciously. “What are you saying about me?” “Oh, nothing,” Minho said innocently, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Uh-huh.” Changbin narrowed his eyes, setting his tray down. “Wait. Is this about my butt again?” “No!” Yuna said quickly, though her wide grin said otherwise. “Yes,” Han muttered, earning a shove from Yeji. Changbin groaned, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. I’ve told you guys, I don't have one. I’ll prove it right now if I have to.” “Don’t you dare!” Lia squealed, slapping her hands over her eyes as the table erupted into laughter, while Changbin turned around, his hands on the waistline of his jeans. “Binnie, please,” Minho said through barely-contained snickers. “We’re in public.” The commotion settled, though the lingering giggles and playful teasing rippled through the group. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them bicker and banter.

Not much had changed. But somehow, everything had. You caught yourself studying the way Han laughed at one of Minho’s sarcastic remarks, the tension you’d been carrying toward him softening just a little. Lia and Yeji were laughing about something on Seungmins phone, while Felix, Changbin and Yuna argued over getting ass and hip implants. And then there was Jay, sitting beside you with a quiet smile, watching the whole scene unfold. Maybe he was right. Maybe everything just needed a bit time for grass to grow over. 

The end of your spring break arrived faster than you expected, and now you were here, standing in front of an elevator in a sleek, high-rise building in the heart of Seoul. The city buzzed below you, a symphony of car horns and distant chatter that seemed to vibrate in your chest. You clutched the box containing the cake you spent all morning baking tightly, your knuckles white. Jay stood beside you, his hand on the small of your back, while his other held a bouquet of flowers. “Relax,” he murmured, leaning closer. “They’re going to love you." “I’m not worried about that,” you lied, your voice a touch higher than normal. Jay smirked knowingly, his lips brushing your temple. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Before you could argue, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal the penthouse floor. You stepped out hesitantly, glancing down at your shoes and the way they squeaked faintly on the polished marble. Jay's parents had a very expensive taste.  The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you came to a sudden stop, panic flaring in your chest. “Jay, no,” you whispered, whirling to face him. “We have to turn around. Right now.” “What?” He blinked, his expression caught between amusement and concern. “Jay,” you hissed, gesturing toward the grand double doors at the end of the hall. “I’m not... I can’t do this! I didn’t even-” Before you could spiral further, Jay stepped behind you and gently turned you around by your shoulders, steering you toward the doors. “You’re going to be fine,” he said firmly, though his voice was still soft. “They’re not scary, I promise.” Jay pulled a key card from his pocket and swiped it across the panel. The door beeped softly, and Jay pushed it open, stepping inside. “Come on,” he said, holding it open for you with a grin. You hesitated but stepped in. The air smelled faintly of something delicious and you could hear faint clattering from the kitchen. Jay closed the door behind you and turned to you with a smile.  “Shoes off, please,” he said, already bending down to untie his shoes.  As soon as he stood upright, Jay took the cake from your hands and cradled it carefully. “Got it,” he said, glancing down at the dessert. “I’ll take this in.” You followed and crouched down, fumbling with the straps of your heels.  A cheerful voice called out from deeper in the apartment. “Is that you, Jay?” “Yes it’s us Mom!” he called back, his tone light. 

You barely had time to steel yourself before his mom appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Her face lit up when she saw you, her smile warm and welcoming. “Y/N!” she exclaimed, coming forward with open arms, completely ignoring her son. “Hi, Mrs. Park,” you said, bowing slightly. Jay’s mom didn’t hesitate for even a second. She stepped forward and pulled you into a warm, slightly overwhelming hug.  “Oh, it’s so good to meet you,” she said, squeezing you gently. You felt your eyes widen, and over her shoulder, you shot Jay a desperate look.  Jay, save me. Jay smothered a laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly as he mouthed, You’re fine. When his mom finally pulled back, she took a good look at you, her hands resting lightly on your arms. “You’re even prettier than I imagined,” she said warmly. You managed a shy smile, your cheeks flushing. “T-thank you,” you stammered, holding up the flowers as a distraction. “We brought these for you.”

“Oh, Y/N, these are beautiful! Thank you so much.” she exclaimed, taking the flowers and calling over her shoulder, “Now Jay where are your manners. Bring your girlfriend inside while I get your father.”, she jokingly scolded her son and disappeared again.  “Jay.”, you hissed under your breath, glaring at him when the two of you walked past the floor to ceiling high windows with a perfect view of Seouls skyline. “You’re fine,” he whispered back, grinning as he set the cake down on the already decked dinner table. “I’m going to die,” you mumbled, your face buried in your hands. “You’re not dying,” he said, his voice full of amusement. “My mom already loves you.” His hands slid around your waist and he pulled you close to him. You put your arms on his shoulders pouting up at him.  “Mhm.”, he said tilting his head, “Pouting won’t save you darling.”  Sure. Thanks Jay, for those motivating words.  “You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?”, he quickly pecked you on the lips and then released you from his hold, just in time as his mother came into the dining room holding up a vase for the flowers, her excitement undimmed.

Jay’s dad appeared a moment later, his face lighting up when he saw you. He looked like an older version of Jay, his smile warm and kind. He approached you with open arms, and before you could overthink it, he enveloped you in a hug that was somehow both firm and gentle. “It’s so wonderful to meet you in person,” he said, pulling back to look at you with a smile. You smiled shyly. “It’s wonderful to meet you, too, Mr. Park. And... thank you,” you added, your voice earnest. “For what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “For everything,” you said, glancing down for a moment before meeting his kind eyes again. “For helping when I was dealing with all of that mess online. I know you didn’t have to, but you did, and it meant the world to me. Truly." Jay’s dad waved a hand dismissively, though his expression remained warm. “Of course we helped. We couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. And I’m just glad you’re doing better now.” “Me too,” you said softly, your voice laced with gratitude. His dad smiled, then glanced toward Jay, who was leaning casually against the counter, watching the exchange. There was a glint of mischief in his dad’s eyes as he turned back to you. “You know, you’re the first girl Jay’s ever brought home to meet us.” Your eyes widened slightly, and you glanced at Jay, who immediately straightened, his casual demeanor cracking just a bit.

“Dad,” he said, his voice slightly strained. “He always told us as a teenager that the first girl he’d bring home would be the one he planned to marry.”, his dad said with a chuckle. “Dad!” Jay said, louder this time, his ears turning a distinct shade of red. You blinked, momentarily stunned, before a small laugh escaped you.  “Did he really?” you asked, glancing at Jay with a teasing smile. “Oh, he was very adamant about it,” his dad continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Said it every time we asked why he never dated anyone in high school.” Jay groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. “I was a kid,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know what I was talking about.” His mom appeared in the doorway, clearly having overheard. “Well, kid or not, you’ve always been a man of your word,” she said with a knowing smile. You couldn’t help but laugh, though your heart was racing at the implications of what his parents were saying. You glanced at Jay, whose flushed face and shy smile were a far cry from his usual confident self. “Is that true, Jay?” you teased gently, your eyes sparkling. He met your gaze, his cheeks still tinged pink, but there was a steadiness in his eyes that made your breath catch. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice low but sincere. “But I didn’t expect my parents to ambush me with it the first time I brought you here.” His dad laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’re just happy to see you this way, son. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked this content.” Jay gave a small, embarrassed smile but didn’t deny it “Well, now that we’ve embarrassed Jay enough for one evening,” his mom said, stepping forward with a twinkle in her eye, “why don’t we get started with dinner? I hope you like Galbi JJim Y/N.” “I do Mrs. Park.”, you said while sliding into the chair next to Jay, grabbing his hand under the dinner table as his parents started excitedly talking about how they were so glad to meet you. He gave it a slight squeeze. 

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

[nocasdatsgay]

The Worst Book

Pairing: Gen/Implied Nessian | Word Count: 801 | Rating: T i guess

Summary: Emerie gives Nesta a book to read not fully detailing what she would be reading

A/N: For @readychilledwine who jokingly said she would pay good money to see [redacted] used in a fic lol

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Gen Tagging: @hieragalbatorixdottir @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @ninthcircleofprythian @daycourtofficial @ysmtttty @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath If I missed you let me know.

“Then he pulled out his purple-headed yogurt slinger. And gods did I want some of that yogurt slung onto my tongue. I dropped to my knees-”

Nesta threw the book. She had put up with poor writing before but this? She fell back onto the couch. Her mate, who has been reading beside her in his own chair, watched her from over his book. 

“You okay there Nes?” He asked. 

“No,” she replied, not moving. 

“Someone die?”

“Worse!” 

He raised a brow as she sat back up and got the book off the floor. He sat his own open faced down in his lap while she flipped to the pages. 

“There,” she shoved the book and pointed at the words. “Read that.” 

He did and he burst with laughter. “Purple- purple headed, what?” 

“Purple-headed yogurt squirter.” Nesta fake gagged. “I’ll never eat yogurt again.”

“Not even mine?” Cass replied quickly. Nesta hit him with the book and he laughed more. “Where did you even find that?” 

“Emerie. Tomorrow I am going to ask what the hells she was thinking.” 

As promised, the next morning Azriel brought Emerie to training and Nesta was waiting. Arms crossed and book in hand, she glared at her friend as she approached. 

“What did I do?” Emerie asked. Her gaze fell to the book and she grinned. “Oh, so you got to chapter 14.”

“Why in the hells did you recommend this to me?” Nesta grinned. 

“If I had to read it, you had to read it. Did you keep going?” Nesta shook her head and Emerie howled with laughter. “Go to the next chapter! You have to see his POV.”

Hesitantly, Nesta flipped the pages. She skimmed the page, picking up that the main female had just given this main male the best blowjob of his life and he was going to return the favor. She turned the page and a voice pulled her away. 

“What are you both giggling about?” Gwyn had arrived. 

Nesta cut her eyes to Emerie and they both burst with laughter again. 

“You don’t want to know,” Nesta said between laughs. 

“Oh come on, yes I do!” Gwyn grinned. 

“It’s a smut book.” Emerie said plainly. “The author called the man’s cock a purple headed yogurt squirter.” 

“Oh,” Gwyn’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. 

Behind her in the distance, Az’s head whipped up. “They said it was what?” 

Cassian cackled beside him. Both males walked over to join them and Emerie explained she had read the book and it was so horrible she needed Nesta to see it. She then turned to her friend and gestured to the book. 

“She was about to read what the main male calls the females-“ she eyed Gwyn, who still wasn’t used to the crassness of the romance novels she and Nesta read. “Her bits.” 

Nesta opened the book where she had her finger placed. She read aloud. 

“I had to return the favor. She laid out in front of me and her legs parted, revealing the treasure between them. I parted- oh my gods I parted the lips of her meat oyster and my tongue dived in to find its pearl.” Nesta yelled last part. “Where the hells did you find this! This cannot be real.”

The boys doubled over, leaning on each other laughing. Gwyn too, covered her mouth as her body shook with giggles. 

Emerie grinned. “It’s a, what did they call it? A satire romance novel. It’s supposed to be terrible.” 

“I think you’re just saying that because it’s so horrible.” Nesta replied, scrunching her nose at the book. 

“Okay ladies,” Cassian regained his composure. “The others will be here soon. We’re here to train with actual swords. Not. Yogurt squirting ones.” 

Gwyn made a face and everyone chuckled. Nesta went to put the book away and Emerie leaned over to her. 

She whispered. “Before you toss it in the fire, read chapter twenty.” 

Nesta gave her a look but sat it down. Later that night as she winded down for bed, she went to chapter twenty. It was the males POV again. She braced herself as she read. 

“I bent her over the table and threw up her dress. I groaned seeing she had no panties on. I wasted no time shoving down my trousers. My meat injector was hard and locked in-“

Nesta was instantly taken aback. “Meat injector?” She muttered. 

She kept reading. “-and ready to shoot my load and baste the insides of my love’s flesh sleeve.” She gagged, instantly regretting it.

She tossed the book on the table beside her chair and tried to clear her mind. If her mate was going to be handsy in bed- as he usually was, she could not be thinking about that. It would definitely ruin the mood. 

[nameless-ken]

Bucky Barnes x Reader

The Stranger That Knows Me Best is a heartfelt story about connection, vulnerability, and taking chances on the unexpected. Through letters and shared experiences, two introverts discover that sometimes, the person who understands you best is the one you’ve never met.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: none really, mostly fluff and some angst

Masterlist

The first letter arrives on a Monday, stuck between a credit card offer and a pizza coupon. You stare at the plain envelope for a moment, debating whether to open it right away or let it sit on top of the unopened pile stacked up on the kitchen table. Honestly, you wouldn’t even be holding it if Wanda hadn’t forced you to sign up for this pen pal thing.

“It’ll be fun!” she exclaimed as she leaned dramatically across your desk while you tried to study. “You need to talk to someone who’s not me for a change. And how exciting to meet someone across the country!”

You rolled your eyes at her and muttered something about spam emails and book characters being more your speed. But she was insistent. “Imagine it. Getting to know someone without all the noise of social media. Just words. Just paper. It’ll be good for you.”

Now, standing in the kitchen, envelope in hand, you weren’t sure if she’d done you a favor or set you up for the most awkward exchange of your life. The return address displays Brooklyn, New York, in handwriting so neat it almost looks printed.

On the other side of the country, Bucky sits at a worn, small kitchen table in his tiny Brooklyn apartment, mouth turned down at the envelope in his hands. His roommate and best friend, Sam, somehow roped him into this, using every trick in the book to sign him up.

“You’re too serious all the time,” Sam teased. “You need to lighten up, meet new people or at least, like, write to one person.”

“I meet people,” Bucky muttered, already regretting the argument.

Sam laughed. “Right. The way you avoid everyone at parties? Sure, bud.”

And now here he is, a couple of weeks later, holding a letter from some stranger in Oregon and wondering if Sam had a point. Bucky has never been good at opening up, not even with people he knew. The idea of putting his thoughts down on paper for some stranger to read made him uneasy. But at the same time there was a comfort in only writing–no faces, no judgments, just words.

The truth is, Bucky doesn’t have a clue what to say or where to start. He agreed to this so Sam would get off his back about meeting new people. Bucky is tired of the monotonous routine of the same frat parties every week. How is he supposed to get to know someone through blasting music and dozens of beers? He’s never been a fan of crowds or casual conversations. 

Maybe that’s why he’d said yes when Sam showed him the ‘Around The World’ pen pal website. To meet someone genuinely and in the most organic way his social anxiety will let him. 

You sit down at your kitchen table, coffee growing cold as you carefully peel open the envelope. The paper inside is simple, lined like the kind from a spiral notebook. Nothing fancy, just a letter. The words on the page surprisingly feel honest. 

Hey, I’m not sure how to start this. I guess an introduction is a good place? My name’s Bucky. Well, technically, it’s James, but no one calls me that. I signed up for this because a friend of mine said I should give it a shot. I don’t know if I’m good at writing letters, but I figure it can’t hurt to try. So, uh… hi.

Somehow Bucky’s awkward words bring a faint smile to your lips which makes you feel a little less self-conscious about your first letter.

Meanwhile, Bucky unfolds his letter in the quiet of his apartment, reading the loopy handwriting of his mystery pen pal.

Hi, I guess this is the part where I tell you about myself? My name’s Y/N, and I live in Oregon. Honestly, I signed up for this because my best friend wouldn’t let it go. She thought it would be fun, and I figured… why not? So here I am. I’m not sure what else to say yet, but I’m looking forward to hearing from you.

He let out a soft huff of amusement, almost smiling. There’s something disarming about the tone, like you are just as uncertain about this as he is.

Neither of you expected much from those first letters, just a few introductory words sent across the miles. But as you sit at your table, thinking about what to write back, you start to feel something you haven’t felt in a long time: curiosity.

And across the country, Bucky feels the same.

Only a week later, the third letter arrives with something extra—a pressed flower, its petals delicate and pale blue. It slips out from the folded paper and lands softly in your lap.

I found this on a walk and thought it was too pretty to leave behind. Don’t ask me what kind it is, I’m terrible at flowers. But it made me think of something you might like.

You smile, gently picking up the flower and holding it up to the light. The sunlight streaming through your living room window turns the petals almost translucent. It feels strange, how something so small can carry so much meaning. In this moment, it wasn’t just a flower, it’s a glimpse into how Bucky sees beauty in the world. 

You tuck the flower carefully into the pages of your journal, pressing it between the lines of a half-finished poem you have been struggling to complete. Somehow, it seems to fit perfectly there, like it has been waiting for you to give it a new story.

You pick up a new blank page, finding yourself writing more freely than you had before. You practically spill out everything you’re thinking at the moment. You tell him about the books piled on your desk, the way your apartment smells like coffee and your favorite hazelnut candle, how the flower petal reminds you of a poem you read recently for class. You include a few lines of said poem on a piece of homemade paper you created a few days ago (a skill you learned from a YouTube video), a small gift in return for his. 

Evening light slants through Bucky’s half closed bedroom window as he opens your next letter. 

A muted tone bookmark slips out first. 

I thought you might need this for all your textbooks. Kinesiology sounds intense, so hopefully this will help keep your place when you’re too tired to keep going.

He turns the bookmark over in his hands, studying the intricate design—a swirl of blues and greens, almost like a wave frozen mid-motion. It’s sturdy, practical, and yet oddly personal in a way that catches him off guard. In both of your previous letters, you learned about each other's majors.

Bucky is studying Kinesiology and you, creative writing and English literature. 

He glances at his own textbooks scattered across his desk, a half-empty mug of tea sitting close to the edge. The long nights spent studying, the endless diagrams of muscles and tendons, the impending need to study for an upcoming test overwhelming his mind. 

He doesn’t say it out loud, but it feels nice to be thought of.

Bucky pulls out the old cigar box he keeps on his bookshelf, the one where he stashes little things that matter—ticket stubs, Polaroids, a dried four-leaf clover. Carefully, he places the bookmark inside, alongside the growing pile of letters.

Later, as he writes his reply, he mentions how the bookmark reminds him of summers at the beach when he was a kid. 

My mom used to drag me and my sister there every weekend. I pretended to hate it, but I think I loved it more than I let on. The waves were calming, you know? Kind of like the way your letter felt. Thanks for that.

He hesitates for a moment before folding the letter, then slips a small photo inside, an old snapshot of his hometown beach at sunset. He doesn’t remember exactly when he took it, but it felt like the right thing to share.

As he seals the envelope, his smile grows. A private gesture that no one else besides Sam usually sees. For the first time in a long time, the act of sharing doesn’t feel so hard.

Did you ever climb trees as a kid? There was this big oak in my backyard growing up. I used to climb all the way to the top, even though my mom always yelled at me for it. There was this one branch that stuck out just right, and I’d sit there for hours. It was the one place I felt like I could breathe.

When you read his words, something clicks in your memory. The reminder of your grandmother’s magnolia tree comes flooding back. Its branches were low and sturdy, perfect for climbing, and the flowers always smelled faintly sweet, even when they were just starting to bloom. That tree had been your secret world, a place where you could escape everything else and just… be.

You respond, telling about your afternoons of sitting in the tree with a journal, scribbling drawings and stories no one else has ever seen. 

It was the first place I felt like I could dream. Funny how trees do that for you too, huh?

Bucky leans back on his couch as he reads about your memory. He hasn’t thought about that tree in years, not since it was cut down after a bad storm. He closes his eyes and tries to remember the texture of the rough bark under his fingers and how the world seemed so small from up there. 

That night, instead of going straight to bed, Bucky finds himself sitting by the window, staring out at the sparse trees lining the streets below. The city doesn’t have the same kind of quiet his backyard had back then, but his memory of that oak tree now feels like it was something he could reach out and touch.

Your conversations about trees continues. In your next letter, you mention how you used to take a backpack filled with snacks and book up into the magnolia tree, like you were setting off for some great adventure. You confess how you fell asleep up there one afternoon and scared your grandmother half to death when she couldn’t find you. 

Bucky’s laughter fills his bedroom as he reads that part, trying to put a face to you as he imagines that scene play out. 

I used to stash stuff up there too. Snacks, comics, even a pair of binoculars I borrowed from my grandpa. It felt like my own little hideout, you know? Like the world couldn’t touch me when I was up there.

As the letters went on, the conversations turned into something deeper. You start talking about the feeling of having a place to escape, a space where the world feels manageable. For Bucky, it used to be the oak tree and now the gym, where he can lose himself in the rhythm of movement and focus. For you, it’s always been words—books, notebooks, even napkins when nothing else was around.

Do you ever feel like you’re still climbing? Like you’re still looking for a branch high enough to sit on, where you can finally just… breathe?

Bucky stares at that question for a long time. 

Yeah. But sometimes I wonder if I’m looking in the wrong places. Maybe the branch isn’t what I need anymore. Maybe it’s just knowing there’s someone out there who gets it.

When you read those words it’s like the miles between you two has gotten a little smaller.

You must write a lot for your classes. Creative writing sounds… intimidating, honestly. I don’t think I could do it. I’m better with structure, you know? I like knowing how things work, how muscles move, how the body functions. It feels concrete, there’s always an answer.

You giggle at his admission. It’s not the first time you’ve heard that writing seems almost impossible to accomplish but to you, it’s almost the easiest but scariest thing in the world. 

Concrete sounds nice.  Writing feels like a brewing storm you can see from hundreds of miles away but as it creeps closer the weight of what to do next has you frozen on the spot. It’s easy in the sense of how subjective it is and everyone always has something to say. The scary part is being brave enough to expel your own thoughts or imagination for the world to have an opinion on.  But I can’t imagine kinesiology being any easier. Do you ever feel like you’re carrying too much? Like the weight of learning all this stuff about the human body just… piles up?

Bucky nods to himself as he reads, his pen pausing above the paper. He hasn’t told anyone, but sometimes, the pressure of being in his program is overwhelming—the constant exams, the endless memorization, the unshakable feeling that one mistake could mean letting someone down in the future.

Yeah, it gets heavy sometimes. But I think about what it’s all for, and it makes it easier to keep going. What about you? What keeps you writing?

When you read his question, you stop to think. What keeps you inspired? The answer seems obvious–it was just something that came naturally to you, from a young age. But the longer you sit and dive deeper into his question, the harder it is to really put it into words. 

Because I don’t know who I am without it.

You didn’t expect those words to carry a weight you didn’t know you have been holding. 

It’s not always easy, though. Writer’s block isn’t some fantastical word people use as an excuse. It’s brutal. Trying to put the right words in the right order drives me crazy most of the time. But even when it’s hard, it’s the only thing that makes me feel like… me, if that makes sense.

Bucky thinks about how he feels when he is at the gym, or working with the human anatomy models in class. He doesn’t always love the grind of school, but there’s something about the act of moving, of learning how things worked, that makes him feel like he is on solid ground. He taps his pen against the table, thinking before continuing his next letter.

That makes a lot of sense, actually. I don’t know if I feel the same way about kinesiology, but I get what you mean about needing something to hold on to. For me, it’s movement. It sounds weird, but when I’m working out or studying how the body works, I don’t feel as… stuck, I guess. Like I’m figuring out the puzzle one piece at a time. And yeah, sometimes the puzzle sucks, but I think that’s just part of it.

He hesitates before adding:

Do you ever feel like writing is your way of figuring yourself out? Like it’s not just about telling a story, but about finding pieces of yourself you didn’t even know were missing?

His question lingers in your mind for days. It isn’t something you’d ever admitted to yourself, let alone anyone else, but he’s right. Writing isn’t just about creating, it’s about uncovering. 

You write back:

All the time. It’s like every time I write something, I leave a little piece of myself on the page, but I also find something new. It’s terrifying sometimes, to feel so exposed, but I think that’s why I can’t stop. It’s the only way I know how to make sense of the world and myself. What about you? Does movement ever feel like that for you? Like it’s not just physical, but… more?

Bucky’s next letter was slower this time, but when it arrives, it’s longer than usual.

Yeah, I think it does. I never thought about it like that before, but now that you mention it, maybe that’s why I’ve always been drawn to it. When I’m moving—running, lifting, even just walking—it’s like the noise in my head quiets down. I don’t have to think about everything all at once. It’s just me and my body, and for a little while, that’s enough.

He pauses, then adds:

I think that’s why I want to help people. I want to give them that same feeling, like they’re not trapped in their bodies, but free because of them. Maybe that’s the piece of myself I’m trying to figure out.

With his next letter, Bucky includes a small, fraying string bracelet. It’s clearly worn from age, some threads are thinner than others, and a few have almost completely unraveled. 

I used to wear this all the time as a kid. It’s nothing special just something a friend gave me back when life was simpler. I don’t know why I’ve kept it all these years, but I figured maybe it’s time it meant something to someone else.

You hold the delicate bracelet, running your fingers over the worn strings. The softness of the fibers and each fray holding a story Bucky hasn’t shared yet. There’s a weight to it, not in size, but in meaning. The way he decided to pass it down to you. It makes you think of the small tokens you’ve saved over the years–notes from old friends, concert tickets, friendship bracelets–those scraps are pieces of who you are, fragments of a past you’ll never be ready to let go of. 

You didn’t want to just thank him for the token. It deserves more than that. 

You decide to package a worn, dog-eared paperback book, edges wrinkled from the years of being opened and reread. It’s one of many copies of Pride & Prejudice you have. The first book that made you fall in love with writing. You can remember all the late nights you spent highlighting lines, making notes in the margins. 

This was the first book that made me want to be a writer. It’s been sitting on my shelf for years, and I think it’s time someone else enjoys it. Maybe it’ll mean something to you too.

You hesitate for a moment, a knot swirling in your stomach. It was something small, seemingly insignificant but also personal. The book was more than a vintage piece of writing. It’s a piece of your past, something that has shaped who you are. 

Bucky opens the package carefully, turning the book over in his hands. It looks like it’s been loved, its pages soft and curling at the corners. He can tell it’s been read over and over again.

He smiles genuinely. He’s never been a huge reader—always preferred the practicality of learning from textbooks or manuals—but this book makes him grateful to have a part of your world that you’re willing to share with him. 

Bucky flips to the first page, the ink of your handwriting spells out a note ‘I hope this means something to you’ 

With a sigh, Bucky carefully places the book beside his bed. He’ll start reading it soon, maybe later tonight. There’s something comforting about knowing that, through these letters and small tokens, you are building something real, something that isn’t defined by distance or time, but by the simple act of sharing.

I’ll start reading it tonight. I can’t promise I’ll be as into it as you are, but I think it already means something to me. That bracelet I sent you, it isn’t just a piece of string. It's a piece of me, one I wasn’t sure how to share until now. I don’t know why I’ve kept it all these years, but I’m glad you’re the one who has it now.

He folds the letter and slips it into the envelope, sealing it with the same quiet smile that has been creeping into his letters more often. 

Over the next few weeks, your letters became less about what you both do in a day and more about the things that have shaped you. Bucky told you about him joining his school's track team and local races all the kids in the neighborhood would have every summer. You told him stories about how you would write stories for your stuffed animals and act them out alone in your childhood room. 

With each letter, it’s become harder to imagine not knowing Bucky, who in so many ways, is still a stranger. But also the one person in the world you feel free enough to share parts of you that you can’t with the closest people you see daily. 

Your heart clenches at Bucky’s next admission:

It’s not that I don’t like people, but it’s like there’s this invisible wall between me and them. Like I’m always watching, but never quite part of it.

You couldn’t write that feeling any better. 

I guess I’ve always been more comfortable in other people’s worlds than my own. Books made sense when nothing else did. I could lose myself in them and forget everything else—even for just a little while.

One day, his letter comes with a sketch tucked between the pages. It’s rough, the kind of drawing someone might do absentmindedly, but it has this subtle energy to it. It’s a street corner in Brooklyn with buildings stacked close together, fire escapes twisting up their sides like veins.

You’d like Brooklyn. There’s something about it, almost restless but steady at the same time. The city’s always moving, but if you look close enough, there are these little pockets of stillness. I think you’d find it inspiring.

You could almost imagine it. The sounds of the city, how different the air might feel. You’ve never been to the east coast. Your finger traces over the sketch, admiring the little piece of Bucky’s city he offers you. 

That night, you feel inspired. You pull out an old journal and try to put words to his drawing. Imagining what Brooklyn must feel like, blending his description with your own ideas. You aren’t sure how cohesive your stream of thoughts are but you don’t take time to edit it. You rip the page out and fold in, slipping it in with your letter. 

When Bucky opens the envelope and finds your poem, he reads it twice, then a third time, trying to imagine his own city through your eyes. You make Brooklyn feel less gray and crowded. As he sits by his favorite coffee shop window, he draws another sketch of what’s in front of him, he even includes a sticker the shop sells. 

Your letters have become a map of sorts. A shared exploration of places neither of you have been to but can picture so vividly because of each other’s words. You print a picture of your favorite spot back home, a cliff overlooking the ocean where you’d sit for hours. 

Writing on the back of the photo: The kind of place that makes you feel small but full of light.

In his reply, Bucky describes a park in his neighborhood where he goes for runs when he needs to clear his head. 

There’s this one bench under an old sycamore tree. Sometimes I stop there and just sit for a while, watching people go by. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s quiet. Peaceful.

With every letter, the walls between you seem to shrink. And yet, there’s still so much you don’t know about each other, so many questions left unspoken, fears left unsaid. Would the connection you’d built survive outside the pages of these letters? Or was it something that only made sense in this space you’d created?

You’re sprawled across the couch in your shared apartment, a blanket draped over your legs as Wanda flips through a magazine on the other end. The soft glow of fairy lights makes the room feel cozy, even as the stack of textbooks and your half-drunk coffee mug on the table scream anything but relaxation.

“You’ve been smiling at that piece of paper for ten minutes,” Wanda says, not even looking up.

You glance down at the letter in your hands, catching yourself before you grin again. “No, I haven’t.”

Wanda raises an eyebrow, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. “You totally have. That’s a ‘someone special wrote me something adorable’ smile if I’ve ever seen one.”

“It’s not like that,” you mumble, though your cheeks are already heating up.

Wanda scoots closer, pulling the letter out of your hands before you can stop her. She scans it, her face softening as she reads. “‘You’d like Brooklyn. There’s something about it—restless but steady at the same time.’” She looks up, her expression a mix of curiosity and teasing. “Okay, first of all, swoon. Second, who is this guy, and why haven’t you told me everything about him yet?”

You groan, snatching the letter back and holding it to your chest. “He’s just my pen pal. You know, from that website you made me sign up for.”

“I strongly encouraged you,” Wanda says with a smirk. “And clearly, I was right. You like him.”

“It’s not like that,” you repeat, but even you don't seem to believe your words. “We just… get each other. Like, in a way no one else does. It’s hard to explain.”

Wanda grins, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Oh, it’s not hard at all. You’re totally falling for him.”

You roll your eyes but can’t deny it. Because maybe, she’s right.

Bucky’s sitting on the edge of his bed, the photograph of the cliffside you sent him in his hands. His thumb traces the edges of the picture absently, his eyes fixed on the jagged rocks and the expanse of sky above them. Sam sprawls in the armchair across the room, one foot lazily rests over the armrest. The faint sounds of the video he’s watching on his phone fills the room. 

“Is that the photo your pen pal sent you?” Sam asks, nodding toward it.

Bucky glances up, startled slightly. “Uh, yeah.”

Sam smirks. “You’ve been staring at it for, like, twenty minutes, man. What’s up with that?”

Bucky shrugs, setting it carefully on the nightstand. “She said it’s her favorite spot near where she grew up. Told me she used to sit there when she needed to clear her head. I don’t know—it’s just… personal, you know?”

“Yeah, it sounds like it,” Sam sits up a little. “So, what? You’re into her now?”

“She’s just my pen pal,” Bucky sounds unconvinced by himself. 

Sam laughs, leaning back again. “Don’t even try it. I know that look. It’s the same one you had when you started watching that baking show and tried to convince me it was just for the ‘techniques.’”

Bucky shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not like that,” he mutters. “She’s just… easy to talk to. Like, I don’t have to explain everything, you know? She just gets it.”

“Yeah, you sound totally detached,” Sam’s grin widens.

Bucky rolls his eyes and tosses a pillow at him. “Shut up, man.”

But as he picks the photo up again, studying the way the sunlight played across the rocks and the faint edge of the ocean in the distance, he knows Sam isn’t entirely wrong.

The next morning, you’re sitting at your desk, chewing on the end of a pen as Wanda brushes her hair in the mirror.

“So, what’s his name?” she asks casually.

“Bucky,” you say before you realize. 

Wanda freezes mid-brush. “Bucky? That’s his real name?”

You laugh, leaning back in your chair. “Technically James but he prefers Bucky.” 

“Okay, first of all, iconic. Second of all, why aren’t you, like, booking a flight to meet him?”

You look at her shocked. “Because that’s not how this works.”

Wanda frowns, turning to face you. “That’s so stupid. What if he’s your soulmate or something?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not that deep.”

But later, as you reread his latest letter, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to meet in person. 

Meanwhile, Bucky is walking to class with Sam, the book tucked under his arm.

“So what’s her deal?” Sam asks.

“She’s a writer,” Bucky says. “Creative writing and English lit major.”

Sam whistles. “Damn. She sounds deep. You sure you can keep up?”

Bucky smirks. “Shut up. It’s not like that.”

But as he heads into class, flipping open the book to one of your underlined passages, he knows he’s not fooling anyone—not even himself.

I know this pen pal, letter sending thing is supposed to hold some kind of anonymity but sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to meet you. Don’t worry—I’m not suggesting anything crazy. It’s just… you’re such a big part of my life now, and it’s weird to think I wouldn’t even recognize you if I passed you on the street. I’d probably walk right by and never know.

Bucky pauses as he writes his next letter, staring at the words he’s written, debating whether to cross them out. Instead, he adds more

Have you ever thought about it? What would it be like if this wasn’t just on paper?

When you read his words, something inside you shifts. Of course you’ve thought about it too—what his voice sounds like, what kind of expression he wears when he writes to you.

Sometimes, I imagine what it’d be like to meet you too. It feels strange to think about, like breaking some kind of rule we’ve been following for three months. But if I’m honest, yeah, I’ve thought about it. More than once.

You hesitate, chewing on the end of your pen before adding:

What if we start small? Like a phone call? It’s not the same as meeting, but maybe hearing your voice wouldn’t feel so strange. What do you think?

Bucky sits with your letter in his hands, rereading your suggestion. A phone call. He’s thought about hearing your voice before, but seeing it written makes it real in a way he hadn’t expected.

A phone call sounds… terrifying, if I’m honest. But also kind of exciting? I mean, I want to hear what you sound like. I want to know if the way you talk matches the way you write. If you’re sure, let’s do it. Just don’t laugh if I sound awkward—I’m not great at this kind of thing.

You’ve never been good with phone calls. Honestly, you surprised yourself when you offered the suggestion to Bucky along with your phone number. But, knowing that Bucky feels similar, eases some of the nerves. 

When the time comes, you sit on your bed with your phone clutched in your hand, nerves fluttering in your stomach. You exchanged numbers in the last letter, but staring at his name in your contacts feels surreal. After a few deep breaths, you hit the call button.

“Hello?” His voice was quiet, a little hesitant.

“Hi,” you respond, smiling even though he can’t see it. “It’s me.”

Bucky let out a small laugh. “Hey. This is… weird, right?”

“Yeah, but in a good way.” 

There’s a moment of quiet, the kind that might feel awkward with anyone else, but with Bucky, it’s comfortable. Like the pauses in his letters, deliberate and thoughtful, holding space for meaning.

“I wasn’t sure you’d actually call,” Bucky admits. “Not that I thought you wouldn’t. I just… I don’t know. It’s different hearing someone’s voice after reading their words for so long.”

“I know what you mean,” you reply, tucking your legs under you. “It feels like meeting you all over again, in a way.”

He hums in agreement, and you try to picture what he looks like by his voice. “So… what’s new?”

You laugh at the simplicity of the question, but it’s grounding in a way. “Not much. I’m still fighting my way through this writing project for class. I swear, my professor has a personal vendetta against me.”

“Or they just know you’re good at it and want to push you,” Bucky offers, his tone lighter now. “You ever think about that?”

You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

“What’s the project about?”

“Character studies,” you reply, leaning back against the pillows. “Creating these detailed backstories for characters we’ve made up. It’s harder than I thought it’d be.”

“I bet you’re great at it,” the sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten.

“Thanks,” you say softly, caught off guard by his compliment.

Bucky’s sitting on the edge of his bed, phone balanced against his ear, a faint smile tugging at his lips as you tell him story of the stay cat you see everyday on your way home from class. “So, what’s the cat’s name?”

“I don’t know. He’s not mine—he just hangs out around my apartment building. But I’ve been calling him Poe.”

“Poe, like the writer?”

“Exactly.”

“Of course,” Bucky chuckles. “I should’ve guessed.”

“What about you? What’s new in your world?”

“Honestly? Not much. Sam tried to make lasagna last night. I’m pretty sure he invented a new species of food poisoning instead.”

You laugh loudly, the sound hitting a spot in his chest unexpectedly. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse,” he says, grinning. “I think the smoke alarm’s still traumatized.”

The conversation drifts, covering everything and nothing at once. You talk about your classes, your friends, your routines. He tells you more about his favorite places in Brooklyn, the way the city feels alive even when he feels anything but.

And soon, the nerves melt away completely, replaced by the same ease you’ve always feel through his letters.

“You know,” Bucky says after a long pause, “I think I like this. Talking to you.”

Your heart skips at his words, and you’re grateful he can’t see the flush creeping up your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says simply. “It’s nice. Like… you’re real now. Not just words on a page.”

You smile, staring up at your bedroom ceiling. “I like it too.”

When your call ends two hours later, you sit for a moment, staring at your phone. The world feels quieter, smaller, like it doesn’t quite matter as much.

And on the other side of the country, Bucky feels the same, staring at your name in his recent calls and wonders how someone so many miles away feels closer than ever. 

What started as one phone call quickly became a routine. 

Some nights, you call Bucky while sitting at your desk, the sound of his voice filling the quiet as you work on an assignment. He talks about his latest lecture or the annoying guy in his study group, and you share stories about your professor’s dramatic poetry readings or the characters in the story you were writing.

“You have a nice laugh,” he compliments, during a late-night call. “It’s different than I imagined, but in a good way. I like it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a smile tugging at your lips. “I think you’re the first person to ever say that.”

“Well, I mean it. You have a good laugh. It makes everything sound less… heavy, you know?”

You sit back in your chair, glancing at the screen of your laptop, but your focus is entirely on the phone now. “I guess I could use a little less heaviness. Especially with my current assignment. I swear, my professor’s idea of ‘creativity’ is to make us write the most pretentious stuff imaginable.”

“I think every professor thinks they’re shaping the next great mind,” Bucky states. “Mine’s the same. My last one made us analyze a yoga position and turn it into a thesis. Like, what is this, ‘Kinesiology 101: Zen and the Art of Muscle Movement’?”

You giggle at the absurdity of it. “That’s both weird and kind of genius. Imagine doing that for one of my stories. The whole plot could be a yoga class, but with a secret mystery and forbidden love.”

“Now that’s a story I’d read,” Bucky jokes. “But seriously, I get it. It’s like they try to make everything sound deep and philosophical when sometimes… it’s just about getting through the day.”

“I’ll drink to that,” you agree, tapping your pen against the desk. “But hey, at least we’re doing something we enjoy, right? Writing, studying—whatever it is, it keeps us busy.”

“Yeah, but I think what really keeps me going is knowing that there’s more to it. I’m not just learning about muscles or how to help people move. It’s like a way of understanding how everything fits together—how the body moves, how it heals, and maybe even… why it breaks down in the first place.”

“I get that. For me, it’s the stories. I want to figure out why people do what they do, what drives them. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to find the puzzle pieces and just waiting to put them together.”

“And when you do?” Bucky wonders, tone softer now.

“When I do…” You trail off, unsure of how to explain the feeling. “I think that’s when everything clicks. Like, the world makes sense, even if just for a moment.”

“I think that’s the best part of what we’re doing,” he adds thoughtfully. “Trying to understand how we all fit together in this world. You know, why we’re here.”

Another comfortable pause stretches between you.

“You know, sometimes I wish I could just leave all the work behind and go somewhere. Take a break from everything, just for a little while. Do something completely different.”

“Yeah, I get that. I think I’d like to go somewhere quiet. Maybe a cabin in the woods, or… a secluded beach. Somewhere I could just… breathe.”

“That sounds perfect,” he agrees. “No expectations. Just… space. Maybe one day we’ll both get to do it.”

You smile at the thought, imagining the peace that comes with leaving everything behind, even if just for a few days. “Maybe one day.”

Even without the ability to see one another, to meet face-to-face, you’ve found a space where you belong, right here with Bucky, in this quiet corner of the world you’ve created together.

The phone calls haven’t replaced the letters; if anything, they made them more special. You still send small items tucked into the envelopes, like pressed flowers you found on a walk or the postcard from a local bookshop with a note scribbled on the back: ‘This place feels like it belongs to you.’

Bucky sends things, too—a tiny seashell he’d found on a rare trip to the beach with Sam, one of his favorite protein bars (“I’m convinced these are the only reason I survive exams”), or a handwritten note on the back of a kinesiology diagram he thought you’d find funny.

I’m glad we started talking on the phone. It’s weird, but I don’t think I realized how much I needed it.

The next time Bucky’s name appears on your phone, you find yourself talking for hours, the way you always do. Bucky tells you about a new project he’s working on for class and you share the struggles of keeping up with your creative writing assignments. You laugh together about how you’ve both procrastinated on something important, even though you know you’re going to pull through in the end.

“You know,” Bucky says, his voice a little softer now, “I never really realized how much I needed to hear from someone like you. It’s just… easy, you know? Talking to you.”

You nod, even though he can’t see it. “I feel the same. I didn’t know I could talk to someone this much without feeling like I’m overdoing it.”

There’s a silence for a moment, and then Bucky’s voice comes through, more vulnerable. “Do you ever think about what it’d be like if we could meet in person? Like… I don’t know, maybe take a trip or something?”

Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t expected the question, but it feels like it’s been lingering there for a while. “Yeah,” you reply slowly. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about what it’d be like to actually meet you. Maybe we could go to that bookshop you told me about, or that café you go to all the time.”

“I think that would be nice,” Bucky agrees, mentally curating a day for you both like it might happen.

You sit on the floor of your room, your textbook open in front of you, but your mind is far away. Wanda, sprawled across your bed, scrolls through her phone.

“So, you’ve been talking to Bucky on the phone a lot lately, huh?” Wanda says casually, glancing down at you.

You look up from your book, the words of your professor blurring in your mind. “Yeah, a lot. Why?”

She raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Because it sounds like you two are practically a thing now. You’re sharing things that nobody else knows, stuff you haven’t even told me, and that’s… kinda big.”

You feel your cheeks warm, but you try to act nonchalant. “It’s just easier, you know? With him, it’s different.”

Wanda leans forward, setting her phone down, her expression turning serious. “So, when are you actually going to see him? I mean, for real, not just through letters and phone calls. You’re both in different states, and I get that it’s complicated, but... aren’t you curious? Don’t you think it’s time to see the real thing?”

There’s a knot in your stomach at the thought of meeting Bucky in person. “I don’t know. It feels so risky. We’ve got this thing, this connection, and I don’t want to mess it up by... meeting and finding out it’s not the same.”

Wanda sits up, her voice soft but insistent. “I get that, but listen to me, this thing you have, it’s real. I can hear it when you talk about him. You don’t have to know everything, but maybe it’s time to take that step. Meet him, see if what you feel is the same in person. If it’s worth it, you’ll know. And if not, you can go back to what you have now. But you won’t know until you try.”

You look down at your hands, the words swirling in your mind. “I don’t know if I can just... show up there, though. What if it’s too much?”

Wanda leans forward, giving you a meaningful look. “You’ll never know unless you do it. And what’s the worst that could happen? You go to Brooklyn, meet up with him, and find out if what you have is more than just letters. If it’s real. You deserve that, okay?”

You bite your lip, thoughts racing. Deep down, you know she’s right. But still, the idea of taking that leap is terrifying.

Bucky leans back against his chair as he closes the kinesiology textbook on the kitchen table. Sam is working on his own assignment, typing away across the table, though his eyes are trained on his friend, the expression on his face full of mischief.

“So, have you talked to her lately?” Sam asks, not looking up from the laptop.

Bucky shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, we’ve been texting. Calls, too. Same as always.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You sure? ‘Cause every time you pick up that phone, you get this dopey grin on your face. Like, way too much of a dopey grin.”

Bucky shoots him a look, but it’s hard to keep the smile off his face. “Shut up, man. It’s just easier to talk to her than anyone else. She’s cool. It’s... nice.”

Sam stops typing and leans forward, his tone shifting. “Look, Bucky, we’ve been best friends for years, and I can tell there’s something more there. You’ve never talked about anyone like you talk about her. You’ve been sending stuff, taking time to connect with her, and now you’re talking on the phone like you’ve known each other forever. What’s holding you back from making it real?”

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, clearly wrestling with the idea. “I don’t know. It feels too soon. I’ve only known her for like five months, and I don’t want to screw this up. I don’t want to be that guy who shows up, and then everything falls apart. What if it’s different in person?”

Sam leans back, crossing his arms. “What if it’s better in person? You’re both out there, being real with each other. But you’re still holding back. Maybe meeting her, seeing her face to face, will show you something you didn’t even realize you needed.”

Sam smirks. “Bucky, she’s probably thinking the same thing. You’ve built something real, and now it’s time to see if it stands up in person. If you really care about her, you should at least give it a shot.”

Bucky looks down at the table, conflicted. “I don’t know, Sam. It’s a lot to ask of her. I don’t want to make things too complicated.”

Sam’s words weigh on him, and he can feel the pull, the desire to take that next step, to finally know what it would be like to stand face to face with you.

“You’re right,” Bucky mutters after a pause, his resolve slowly hardening. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll make it happen.”

Sam grins. “That’s what I like to hear, man. Just don’t wait too long, alright?”

The fall air outside is crisp. You’re favorite time of the year. You sit on your porch swing, finishing up your morning coffee. You’ve been buried in finals for the past few days, and it feels like the weight of them is starting to catch up. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, but you ignore it for the moment, reaching instead for the stack of mail that you checked this morning.

You sift through the usual bills and flyers until something catches your eye—a familiar handwriting. Your heart does a little flip when you recognize Bucky’s name on the envelope. The anticipation surges as you rip it open, the paper inside feeling heavier than usual.

A ticket slips out. A plane ticket to be exact.

You freeze for a moment, not quite able to wrap your mind around what you’re holding. You unfold his letter quickly. 

Y/N, I’m not sure how to even begin this, so I’ll just say it plainly: I’m sending you a plane ticket. I know this is sudden, and I completely understand if you think this is too much or too soon. I don’t want to pressure you into anything, and if it’s not something you’re comfortable with, I won’t be offended in the slightest. It’s a refundable ticket, so no pressure, I promise. But if you’re open to it... I’d love for you to come visit me in Brooklyn. I remember you telling me your Fall break is coming up, and I’ve been thinking a lot about how much I want to show you everything here—the parks, the food spots, the places that always make me feel like I’m home. I’ve even made a little map of things I thought you’d enjoy. It’s not the grandest of plans, but I think it could be a good start. I’m giving you the time to decide, but if you do decide you want to take this leap... I’ll be waiting for you at the arrival gate, next Saturday. I’ll make sure I’m there early, just in case. And if not, I completely understand. You’ve been amazing, and I wouldn’t want to ruin what we’ve got, whatever it is. I hope to see you soon —Bucky

You blink, the words blurring together for a moment. The excitement is a bit overwhelming. He’s giving you space, no pressure, just an invitation. The ticket, the map—he’s really thought all of this through. And the idea of being in Brooklyn, of standing face-to-face with the person who’s been your constant for months now, feels... possible. 

You glance down at the ticket again, your fingers trembling slightly as you trace the flight details.  You take a deep breath, setting the ticket down beside you and run your fingers over the map he made, the carefully marked spots where he hopes to take you. You smile at his gesture. It’s simple, thoughtful... real.

You think of Wanda’s voice, urging you to take the leap.

Are you ready for this?

Thank you so much reading <3 Please let me know what you think and reblogs always help!!

[genderqueerdykes]

TW: Transphobia, intentional misgendering/mentions of abuse, gaslighting, and generally gross behavior. You asked for experiences from transmasc people, so, here I am. I'm a transmasc person. Still figuring out what kind of person that is, but... I'm transmasc, which is what matters here. I've been told a LOT of harmful things in the community, both from abusers and from friends(who I no longer talk to). This is my experience. My first real experience with all of this was from a shitty ex, who at that point controlled my life and had identified as bi since he was 12. He denied me the ability to transition (I couldn't drive myself to the doctor and had no money to pay for more than the prescription), saying that I would turn into a monster and break up with him, abuse him, become violent, etc. He pressured me into using she/her pronouns along with he/they. I used genderfluid transmasc at the time as my labels, and he used this as an excuse to proudly call me "his wife in training", saying that because I didn't bind half the time, I was practically a woman. I'm now in therapy because while the term genderfluid fits, I legitimately get panicked when I try to use it because not only did he use it against me, but people used it to... detransify me. De-masc me.

Now, I'm a feminine person in some respects. I like a good accessory and bright colors and cute things. But because I wasn't performing hypermasculinity to become "a true man", people used genderfluid as a term to say "Well, clearly you're fine with female pronouns and terms because you wear earrings/paint your nails, and genderfluid falls in the scale of woman, so I'll just call you woman." People used the term so often to de-transify me, ESPECIALLY in the community.

When out and about, it does not matter if I have he/him or they/them pins on- people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

I'm nervous about top surgery sometime this year or next year. I want to keep a little bit of my chest, because I'm a larger person- but I'm legitimately worried my doctor will go against my wishes and give me a bird chest or carve out too much. I want top surgery not only because it will make me feel more like myself, but because my stupid chest is what EVERYONE points to- queer or non- and says that "but you have that, shouldn't you enjoy it?"

Being labeled a faker, a potential monster in the making, as someone who's just confused, and worst of all, being labeled as someone who didn't know what my own label meant... it's worn me down. I'm not sure what to do with myself, and am in gender therapy to unpack the trauma of what other people have placed onto me, both queer and cishet alike. I have quite a few understanding, loving friends in the community- but there have been just as many people who haven't understood and try to fit me into a box until I bled.

This stuff isn't just "oh silly transmasc! That's part of the experience! You just have to deal with it!" I don't, actually. And I refuse to. I refuse to give up the things I love for other people's assumptions of my body, label or identity. Even if it hurts to fight back, I'm tired of letting transphobes inside and outside our community harm me based on what THEY think I should be. This is my story. Sorry if it's bleak, but... that's the truth. I hope it helps others see that blaming us for all the harm the community faces, and making us into your blank dolls to play with, breaks us. It's awful. Please, treat us better. We deserve better. We always have.

Thank you for letting us share our stories.

thank you for taking the time to type this out and share, i really appreciate it. this is very insightful and important. i can't believe how awful people are to you. that shouldn't be happening. i don't want to take away from your story so i'll keep it brief

people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

this happens so often. this is what i mean when i say that trans men and mascs are also affected by transmisogyny. many people mistake trans men and mascs for trans women and transfems. it's a real thing and we need to acknowledge it.

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Gone

Avengers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (each can be read as platonic or otherwise)

Summary: The team went on a mission, it was supposed to be simple. Supposed to be.

Warnings: Character death, human experimentation, not a lot but some intense violence, lots of angst, no happy ending.

Word Count 1,959

Your day started off like any other, you got up and put your workout clothes on and 4:45 am. You met Steve outside the tower at 5:00 and went on your usual run for about an hour. Once you got back to the compound you made everyone breakfast, that morning you chose pancakes, which the whole team devoured. After breakfast at about 7:15, you all went to the meeting room where Steve started his briefing.

'All right, quick and easy in and out HYDRA base takedown shouldn't take more than 2 hours tops' the Captain stated 'Location, small town just outside of New Orleans'.

'Sweet, we can hit the casino before we head home' Tony said, knowning full well Steve would never go for it.

'I don't think so, Tony' the super soldier said almost rolling his eyes.

You all suited up and piled into the quinjet within the hour and were off the ground by 8:00. You arrived near the HYDRA base, parked the quinjet and placed it in stealth mode all by 10:00.

Bruce stayed in the jet hoping there wouldn't be any need for a 'code green' as the team put it. The rest of you split into pairs and you were with Steve. You and Steve silently became partners a long time ago, you two just always worked well together and after some time you developed a meaningful and strong bond, becoming true best friends. The two of you snuck up on the guards and clocked them before they could even hear you. You put on a couple of helmets to sneak in and make sure there were no civilian hostages before blowing the building into the sky. You went right as Steve went left. You walked over to an elevator and just as the doors were about to shut a HYRDA agent snuck in with you. You were a bit worried he might notice you and as he got closer you just did the first thing you could think of and uttered the phrase 'hail hydra' under your breath, which seemed to work out for you as he returned the sentiment.

You heard some agents talking about 'the subjects' which you were almost certain were captives hidden somewhere, but what you didn't expect was children. You had be through and see things no one should have to, some that included children, but that didn't make it any easier when they were involved. You told Steve over comms, to meet you in the basement where you thought the kids were. You waited in the basement until 1:54 pm when you saw Steve approaching. You two searched the basement while Tony got JARVIS to take as many scans of the building as possible but there was something preventing him from seeing inside.

'J's stumped guys, he can't see through the walls, they're probably lined with lead' Tony grumbled annoyed that he hadn't considered lead.

'I don't know if you should stay in there if Tony can't see anything' Clint stated, concerned like the mother hen he is.

'We're not in there, Steve, Y/n, what do you think?' Natasha asked.

'Your call' Steve said looking to you. You had more experience with discrete infiltration than your super soldier friend who generally just bursts in.

'I say we keep going, we gotta find those kids' you said determined to help the children.

You and Steve ventured further into the basement, uncovering multiple secret rooms, but no kids. You looked for hours taking you to 6:24 pm and still no luck.

'You think we should call it a day?' Steve asked you.

'I can't leave those kids' you muttered back.

'Maybe there are no kids, maybe the agents were wrong'

'Can't take that chance, Captain'

He knew you were serious when you called him 'Captain' as you usually opted for 'Cap' or 'Steve'.

After continuing your search you finally found them. The door was locked so in one swift moment Steve knocked it down with a kick, you knew he's was a super soldier but sometimes you forgot. You rushed in the door started opening cells. Most of the children had some form of injuries but a few of them were.... different. You let one out that had feathers on her arms and another with gills, HYRDA had been experimenting on them. You had seen experimentations before but nothing this successful and not with Steve. When he saw the boy with a fluffy tail and ears you thought he might be sick, no because of the boy's appearance but because he knew the paint if experimental formulas and he hated that a child had to go through that. Many children. You could see the pain in Steve's usually soft blue eyes, not clouding with rage.

At 9:02 you started to help the children out of the building through the vent system, Clint's suggestion of course. You were greeted outside, not very warmly, by what must have been 100 HYDRA agents. The rest of the team joined you and they caught the agents as you and Steve protected the 20 odd kids. One agent grabbed a vulture-like girl, she must've be 5 years old at the most, and pointed a gun to her head. You stopped immediately, placing your weapon on the ground and you hands above your head.

'Don't hurt her, please' you begged the man but he just chuckled in response seeing how much you cared for the girl you had just barely met.

'I'll do want I want, bitch' he barked before tightening his grip on her throat. She looked up at you and muttered the words 'please help me' just before he took the shot. His finger tightened around the trigger squeezing it while staring at you the entire time. You didn't take your eyes off the little girl's. Big, beautiful, brown eyes staring up at you with hope, hope that you would save her life, but you didn't. You watched as he released his grip on her neck, letting her limp body fall to the ground with a sharp thud. You stared at her body. His gruff laughter jolting you back into reality. He knew he was about to die but seeing that he got to you made it all worth it. You turned your head back to face him, not saying a word you pounced on him. You ripped him apart, limb from limb, with your bare hands.

Steve saw you, elbow deep in the agent's bloody carcass. Then he saw the little girl lying on the ground next to you. He didn't say anything, now wasn't the time, he just continued to fight. He unleashed the bottled up rage from when he saw the children earlier.

Everyone was beating the agents senseless and just as you thought the battle was coming to a close more troop came from behind, snatching the kids from you and Nat, who had helped you after seeing what happened with the girl. The agents gather the children up and poured gasoline around them. You thought they were bluffing, even after earlier, you didn't think they would destroy all those experiments at least. You all stared as one man lit a match and smiled as he dropped it.

You where half a mile from them so by the time you all got there the flames were raging at 9 feet from the ground, still climbing.

Even in this state, Hulk knew that Steve and Tony would rush in to save them even though they'd probably due doing it, so he grabbed them and held them both in a huge bear hug making sure they couldn't escape. What he didn't account for was you.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn't just watch them die. The rest of the team started to turn around, silently admitting defeat, but you didn't. You watched the daunting inferno, towering over you, growing, engulfing trees with the children. You ran into the blaze, covering your face with your arms. You rushed around checking the bodies, searching for any sign of life, until you saw an arm reach out. You bolted over to the girl, only slightly spared because of all the other's corpses piled on top of her, partly shielding her from the flames. You life's the bodies off of her and cradled her in your arms as you ran out of the fire.

Your teammates, your friends were terrified when they saw you run straight into fire. Every second you staying there the more they worried. They clung to the hope that you might come out, you had to.

When they saw you burst through the flames they all breathed a sigh of relief. They say you hold the girl and rushed over to you. Thor took her from your arms and the moment you let her go you collapsed. The last thing you saw was Steve hovering over you.

They saw you fall to the ground, mirroring the vulture girl from earlier. Steve pushed his way out of the Hulk's grip and rushed to your side. He picked you limp body up in his arms and rushed you to the quinjet, to which the others followed quick behind.

At 1:37 am Thor placed the girl onto the on-board med bay. They checked her over on the flight home, sustaining her for the time being and keeping her breathing. The whole time Steve held you in his arms and stared at the scrape, cuts, bruises and... burns that littered your body. The fire had burned through your suit, scorching your skin on your legs, abdomen and back mostly. Those were the worst ones. He stared at the burn that climbed from your neck, up your cheek. It captured a small amount of you hairline and crept it's way to your eye. He could see what looked like little tendrils of scarred skin creeping over the outer corner of your right eye. He ghosted his fingers over it feeling the raised skin, tears pricking at his eyes as you still hadn't moved.

Steve lowered you onto the med bay bed and Bruce checked you over, however hopeless it may seem. Steve held your hand, his glassy eyes not leaving your closed ones for a moment. Bruce inhaled deeply and looked over and the man at your bedside, wishing he didn't have to say what he was about to.

'I'm sorry' he started 'she doesn't have a pulse and she isn't breathing'.

No one said anything, the rest of the team stood around you praying that they heard him wrong.

Natasha walked over to the corner and sunk onto the floor, folding in on herself. Clint tilted his head back, resting it on the wall as a stared at the ceiling. Thor punched a wall of the quinjet, almost breaking straight through. Tony looked down and walked away, his guilty thoughts starting to take over. 'What if I had thought about lead? Then she'd still be alive'.

Everyone was choking back tears, they'd lost one of the most important people in their lives. The person who made them laugh with some of the most stupid jokes known to man. The person who taught them new training techniques, even when they thought they knew them all by now. The person that made them their favourite meal when they were feeling down. The person who nursed them back to health when they were sick. The person who somehow could always get them the best gifts come the holidays. The person who comforted them no matter what. The person that they relied on to be their rock.

You were just gone, and all by 3:00 am.

Tags:

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@avengers-official-recruit-agent

@goreygirl03

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[beekeeperspicnic]

Hi ! First of all, huge fan of your project, and I really look forward to March ! What prompted your love for Sherlock Holmes, and when was it ? And was there a specific videogame that made you go "oh, hell I want to make a game too!" If so, which one was it ?

I think there are two definite phases to me liking Sherlock Holmes. The first was when I was about 11 or 12, which saw me reading some of the stories and getting up early to watch Granada Holmes reruns on satellite tv. I had a deerstalker which was enormous on me, and tried learning to play the violin, and insisted my parents take me to Baker Street so I could have my picture taken there (ok, and also because Danger Mouse lived there.)

As for *why* I liked them so much, I think it was probably the combination of feeling like grown-up books with a grown-up hero (important when you're a tween), and feeling a kinship with Holmes as a bit of an oddball like myself - but a heroic one. I think I'd been primed for it by loving Great Mouse Detective and a series of kids books called Shirley Holmes when I was younger. But it was a solitary love - I didn't know anyone else who was remotely interested in them, and eventually I moved on to other things. Specifically I think the 2005 Doctor Who revival happened, and suddenly I had a thing I loved which I could talk about with classmates!

(I'm afraid I might have to disappoint some people that I wasn't a circa 2012 BBC Sherlock fangirl - I didn't really watch it. I casually saw the first few series when they aired, and that's about it.)

In late 2021 went back to reading Sherlock Holmes and found I enjoyed them just as much as an adult, if not more with the added social and cultural context I had. Dracula Daily had just run for the first time, and I told myself that in 2023 when the Sherlock Holmes stories were public domain, I'd do a similar thing. Then Dracula Daily ran again and REALLY took off in popularity, and my little project suddenly got way more attention too, and suddenly it was like I was that 12 year old again loving Sherlock Holmes, but now I had so many friends who did too.

It's been that sense of community which has been fuelling me for the past few years. I've never really fit into traditional fandom spaces for a few reasons, but I find that I vibe with Sherlock Holmes folks!

(I am answering asks, if anyone has one!)

[cyberbullyhunters]

Hi here^^ (because I am still polite). Remember me? Ff7simp The girl you pretended to be friends with, whom you trashtalked to like 4 people and you made your toxic friend/secret lover/venusoneechan cyberbully me just because you could not admit you lost interest to a fandom? XD As I will leave social networks to focus on real things, I allow myself to comment you one last time. ^^ it is funny how in 2021, I actually loved your art (fanfics, fanarts) and how much I tried to convince you your arts were great and you shall never give up on trying (oh. You will say you did the same to me and you DID I will not deny that. But you decided to get a bad memory and minimise I did too because you wanted to portray me as a toxic mf to your friends lol). Anyway now that I rewatch it, I realize how lame it was. Not the art itself indeed. You have talent. Really. I think you do have. But it is lame because how awful of a person you actually are. I cared for you first and I think you cared for me too and that is why I cannot believe a person who view another as a friend would do things like that. You never apologized and you always denied what you did to me. Yes. If you think I blamed you for not reading my stories well surprise. It was not for that. It was just because in our last hours of friendship you talked about yourself yourself yourself. You pretended there were a glitch who left messages in "Seen" in order to lie about why you did not talk to me when I needed your help. And when I asked your help you were like "oh I draw. Good night". Okay what a good friend you were. And thats not only that. Talking trash about me to people I did not know about our dramas to make yourself look like a stupid victim was sad indeed. Allowing your stupid friend Venusoneechan who I think is a giant troll to attack me and call me a piece of shit was sad indeed. If there is a piece of shit here it is you two. Saying I was the one who cyberbullied you in public and accusing me of things I did not do (telling me I deprived you of sleep and saying I acted like your so called abusive boyfriend lol…wow. i never did that). Anyway I am not sure you were really abused indeed with how much a jerk and how much you play victim here. However you know. I do not get angry at you. I feel pity for you. Apparently venusoneechan is your sole friend. It is sad you have nothing in real life. It is sad you will never finish your stories indeed or other arts. I finished mine. I chose to delete all coz I want to move on with real life. Something I feel you will never get coz you will probably never be happy and coz there is no real friend online. I am sorry. Not about what I did (even if i regret things I could tell you and I wish things would have got better between us) but I am sorry for you. Really. Anyway. Try getting happiness and stop cyberbullying others. Do not answer to me. I will not read. Goodbye.

[catocappuccino]

Her favourite colour is yello w