#like I really loved the reputation hoodie and she said ‘let me get it for you <3’ and I was like

[just-rogi]

I feel like such a bitch for saying this but like getting gifts from my mother is always so awkward and I feel like a spoiled brat saying this but she just doesn’t know me that well or listen to me when I say super clear things so she always ends up getting gifts that are really expensive that I don’t like and idk how to tell her that because I can’t correct her for doing something nice but also… please talk to me before spending your money because this $75 Taylor swift hoodie is so ugly and I’ll never wear it and I’m so easy to shop for because I’m very clear and predictable

[s-4pphics]

click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.” 

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 

Oh God. “What?” 

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 

Why are people… so odd? 

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 

ELLIE WILLIAMS. 

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I��m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 

“The wettest. Go.” 

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 

“Alright.” 

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 

“What’d I say!” 

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Oh yeah what.” 

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 

… Cute. 

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 

“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 

“Sike.” 

You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 

“Right.” 

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 

“Hm?” 

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 

“Damn… My fault.” 

“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 

“Go out! Find somebody!” 

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly. 

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 

“To move in.” 

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Handle It, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Blackmailing, Being Sick, Threatening to Kill Someone, Mentions of An Affair

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: Y/N stresses about not being able to take a test after missing it because she is sick, but good thing Rafe is here to help.

Masterlist

He can hear tiny sniffles coming from inside of his room. He opens the door to see the wet globs coming from her eyes and the tiny shrivel of her nose confirms his assumption that she is crying. Her hand tugs at the opposite sleeve of his oversized hoodie that she wears. As soon as their eyes lock, he rushes to sit on the bed and pulls her onto his lap. “What’s wrong, my sweet angel?” he coos, unsticking her hair from the wet trail on her face it attached itself to so that he can look into her eyes. She takes a second to steady her breathing, “Y-you kn-know how I had that test today, but I’ve been puking all week so I couldn’t go?” He nods his head for her to continue. “Well, I emailed my professor at the beginning of the week asking if I could do it another day. He said that I would need to show him a doctor's note before the end of the day for that to happen. I tried telling him that I tried everything all week to get one, but my doctor doesn’t have a free appointment, the clinic can’t give me one because they aren’t my regular doctor and the hospital won’t even see me. So, now, I’m going to lose 20% of my mark because I was sick.” 

Rafe listens carefully to her little rant, growing angry at each hoop his sick girlfriend had to go through just to get something as trivial as a redo test. She had been studying every chance she could get, even through her sickness. Rafe knows how serious Y/N is about her grades and school. After all, she needs some great grades to get into grad school. He would never think twice about losing 20% of his grade because all he wants to do is pass the class, which is perfectly doable without that. However, Y/N, especially with her anxiety, needs every percent she can get and Rafe wasn’t going to let some old shit with a stick up his ass stop her from doing so. “It’s going to be okay. Let me handle it, angel,” he assures, kissing her temple. 

——

The line to the professor’s office is three people deep. All of them are waiting to enter for his office hours, but Rafe is not going to take the chance of not talking to him. He stares down the first guy in line and walks to the front of the line. From the guy’s smell, he must be an engineering major. No one says anything about Rafe’s actions because he has a well-known reputation on campus. The door opens to the office and Rafe doesn’t wait for the student inside to walk out. The wrinkles on the professor’s forehead crate a v, a frown falling onto his face. “I don’t believe you are in any of my classes,” he states, trying to pinpoint if he has seen Rafe in any of his lectures. Rafe shakes his head in a low chuckle, “No, I am not, Professor Smith. But my girlfriend is. You may remember her from the email you sent her, Y/N Y/L/N.” “Ah, yes. I do remember her. Unless you have the doctor's notes or are a doctor, then I am afraid I can’t do anything. It’s not my fault she didn’t plan accordingly,” Smith comments, not looking up from his laptop. 

Rafe closes the teacher’s laptop. This causes the man to look at him and he gives him a threatening smile. “I’m sorry to say that I don’t have any notes. But my angel won’t be needing one,” he sings, running his finger along the desk. The elder’s head tilts, “Really? And why would that be?” Rafe’s grin turns almost psychotic.

��Because I know a little secret about where you like to spend your Sunday nights. I have a lot of photographic evidence that I’m sure the university and your wife would love.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Let’s not play this game. My frat brother also likes to visit the little lady you like to have a dalliance with and he told me everything she told him. If that doesn’t convince you, then maybe the piece in my nightstand drawer will.”

The bob of the professor’s Adam’s apple is very evident, “Are you trying to blackmail me?” 

“Nice to see you finally caught up on what is going on. Now, are you going to do what I asked?”

Smith looks at Rafe with wide eyes and the points of his lips stretch. He can see the seriousness on Rafe’s face. His head gives a small nod, “Y-yes. I think I can do something for Ms. Y/L/N.” “That’s great. Let’s type her a nice apologetic email. And if you even think about telling anyone about this, then you might just find yourself six feet under,” Rafe intimidates, reopening the laptop for the professor. 

——

Wind passes through her hair as she makes her way towards Rafe. Her smile rivals the sun and she jumps into his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist. He grips the back of her thighs to keep her up. “What has you so happy, my angel? Only I’m allowed to do that,” Rafe complains, peppering kisses all over her face. She giggles at the assault of his lips, “Professor Smith let me redo the test without a doctor’s note. I got a 100%.” Rafe lets out a cheer, spinning her around. “That’s so great! You work so hard. I’m so proud of you, angel,” he praises. She gives her his thanks as she tells him in detail about her test, talking about how she figured out a question she got a little stuck on. He nods and listens, spotting the professor out of the corner of his eye. Professor Smith becomes frightened and he quickly looks away from Rafe. He smirks at the professor’s reaction, returning his full gaze to his girl.

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 8; "My reputation's never been worse."

“This is so fucking stupid.”

I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, eyes rolling at the sight of the boys, noise makers between their lips, some jank ass sign unraveling in the wind.

“Your mom’s fucking stupid,” Max fired back with his usual goofy smile, words muffled from the noise maker in his mouth. His knocked his fist against my elbow gently as he passed by, moving to help Cy hold up the poster board.

They’d bought it at a random Walgreens, after having forced the Uber driver to pull over, abruptly. Then, with bumpy hands and terrible penmanship, they wrote out some sarcastic for Sam about returning home from prison.

“Don’t be a sour puss, dude,” Adam replied. His brows were furrowed, chin dipping side to side in disagreement to my negative statement.

I looked to him, watching as he pulled a cone shaped hat down onto his hair, the rubber band snug against his chin. The meer humor of the too-small hat on his head made his words lose any meaning. I wanted to laugh, but instead I shot back, my brows skeptically, sarcasm quick as air, “Who? Me? No, never!”

Adam scoffed a laugh. His hat was finally adjusted now, hands falling to his sides exasperatedly. “Seriously. Just try to be nice, for once. Sam said Daisy’s, like, so sweet.” My skepticism only darkened my gaze, sarcasm sinking into genuine wonder, “So, what, we’re gonna be dancing around some child all summer?”

It was a valid question. When Sam asked us about Daisy joining the tour for the summer, everyone else just jumped on board. I, however, took a little convincing. What business did she even have here, 5,000 miles from home? It’s not like she had any professional connections to touch on, nor was London that interesting. Or, maybe I was just being a pessimist, again…

To say the least, I had trust issues. Or, in my therapist’s more light turn of phrase, I was cautious, careful to new people because I had a lot on the line with my career and had been through numerous situations with others that ended up with me, well…in therapy.

Max battled with the cardboard sign as the wind seemed to be winning the war. He struggled to get the words out as he scuffled to straighten its edges, which seemed to take more work than it needed to, “She’s literally only 5 years younger than you.”

“So, a child?”

“So, a 23 year old, grown woman. She’s really smart, Sam said. I’m sure you can have some fun conversations about the elements and shit.”

“Sam’s biased,” I murmured, focused now on the cigarette between my pointer and middle fingers. I dallied with lighting it, displaced energy in the act. It was early. I was tired.

“Sam’s one of your best mates,” Cy shot me a look. “Listen, just give her a chance. Stop moping just because you think some woman’s gonna take away from our guy time this summer.”

I straightened up, offense hitting my features like a stone wall, “When did I say that? I’m just worried we’re gonna have to cater to some child while we’re trying to literally do our jobs. She’s gonna be pursuing around like she’s in some Taylor Swift video while we’re going to be trying to earn our income. It’s just…weird.”

I’d never mention that fear to them- the fear I had of this trust. I think maybe if they all looked at me a little more closely, they’d see it. They’d see the fear in my eyes. But, I was really good at displacing my anxieties onto a separate, less pressing issue.

If I was ever terrified the sky was going to fall, then, suddenly, I was lashing out about the uncut grass in the front yard, randomly. Gotta love unhealthy coping mechanisms. Cy was still looking at me all judgmentally. I knew he wanted to lecture me further, but he simply reached over, patted my shoulder, and said, “Just…try not to be a dickhead, okay? Let the girl enjoy her summer.”

Max continued on, blabbering about something or the other. “I’m, like…Ollie, have you ever even seen a Taylor Swift video? I am pretty sure not a single fucking one takes place in Europe. They’re all super conceptual and abstract. Honestly, you might actually love some of ‘em. What’s that older one? With the trees and shit?”

“Out Of the Woods?” Adam was quick to fill in the blanks. I looked to him out of the corner of my vision, gaze narrowed. Of course he knew which one it was. He held his hands up, defensively, “What? My little cousin loves her.”

“Mhm,” I nodded, slow.

He trailed off, looking away, “And, maybe, you know, I do, too.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Max latched onto Adam’s help, continuing his rant about Taylor Swift, of all things. “Fuck! Out of the Woods! It reminds me a lot of the Fall for Me video! There’s, ya know, water…lots of running…self-deprecation. Fuck, a Sleep Token/Taylor Swift collab would go so hard!”

“Shit, could you imagine some real drums on one of her songs?” Cy perked up at the thought, fingers thrumming against the corner of the sign that he’d now laid his clutches on. “Sick!”

“Oh, God,” I rubbed my forehead, itching more and more to finally light up my cigarette, puff out a few smokey deep breaths. “I can feel the glitter and sparkles starting to fucking suffocate me! Can we please talk about something else?”

“Whatever, Ollie,” Adam flicked his hand towards me dismissively. He went to change the subject when his phone dinged from his pocket. He pulled it out, in one fluid motion, and read whatever text he’d gotten. “Shit! They just got their bags! Quick! Hold up the sign!”

Max shuffled around, all energetic, trying to make everything look perfect. He quickly tried to put a party hat on my head. I had to shove his entire body into Adam to stop him from getting the string down over my chin.

“Fuck off!” I cursed, brushing out the torso of my hoodie. He giggled, annoyingly, knowing he’d successfully gotten on my nerves. Again.

Max turned his attention away from me and to the two people who had just walked out of the airport, suitcases rolling behind them, backpacks looped around their shoulders. I noticed Sam, first, his head dipped down into his phone, curly blonde hair mopped up atop his head. He was dressed, head to toe, in all black. It was a welcome site, the fifth member of our posse back in our home country, our original stomping grounds, even if he wasn’t from here.

I let a smile overtake my features, excitement bubbling in my cheeks. It was actually really good to see him.

I wouldn’t have even paid any attention to the girl standing beside him if she didn’t stick out so much, like a sore thumb. Her bright pink sweater, gray sweatpants, the purples and greens swirled around her suitcase. Every single thing touching her was just…so colorful. Even the expression on her face, wide grin, cheery eyes- though they were circled by tireless bags- it was all so glaring.

I narrowed my eyes skeptically.

As Sam fumbled about on his phone, she stepped forward, excitedly taking an extra noise maker, my left over party hat, from Max. She barely got the hat on before Sam was looking up, our small crowd erupting into joyous ruckus that caused him to nearly drop his phone.

I don’t know why, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I watched her, carefully, as she went through the motions of greeting everyone. Adam was his shy, introverted self. Cy was charismatic, Max obnoxiously flirty.

And she was just…constant, through it all. Upbeat, grinning, encouraging to every single average word that my friends told her.

And then she was looking at me, offering her hand. My head shook slightly as if to unscramble my consciousness. I glanced between her hand, her own gaze, unsure of what to do or say. I had been too busy watching. I barely brought myself out of that entrapped stare before my name came fumbling out of my mouth.

“Oliver.”

She seemed a little put off, taken aback, after I blatantly ignored her outstretched hand. But, I didn’t want to shake it. I was afraid that, if I touched it, she might shock me, sting me, scorch me with that bleeding sunshine she seemed to have sticking to her skin.

Besides, I couldn’t trust her, right? Right.

I turned my head away, feeling somewhat ashamed for the way I brushed her off. There was a rejected twinkle in her eyes, one that I could not handle. Moving on from that interaction, or in an attempt to do so, I tilted my chin down, glazing my eyes to the concrete. I shrunk beneath the cover of my hood. I didn’t need to feel bad for anything. I didn’t even know her, nor did she know me.

As the others finished up with their exchange of greetings, the group itself began making its way back to the Uber, with Sam and Daisy now a part of the flow.

The car ride back was objectively short, though it felt longer than the time on Apple Maps said. I rode in the back with the guys, pressed up against the door due to the lack of space. My long knees jutted out awkwardly. The bone of my leg ached from knocking against the door with each bump in the road that the car hit.

I stared out of the window, hoping the painful time would pass quicker. The ugliness of London stared back at me. A small, curious part of me kept darting my eyes towards the front seat, where she sat. But I stilled my gaze on the city.

That was maybe part of the issue- I just didn't understand why Daisy was so interested in visiting this place anyways. It was boring, bland. I associated the cloudy gray skies and rainy summers with some of the worst times of my life. This city looked the way I felt for most of it, too. The people were shit, too. Rude, always in a rush, unforgiving and untrustworthy.

What adventure could one find in this wet, concrete maze of hell?

Bored, I moved my attention back to the interior of the car, still resisting that urge to look forward. Adam, Cy, Sam, and Max were a cacophony of lost conversation, catching up, rumbling laughter. I listened for a moment, intently awaiting her to throw in her two sense. She seemed like the type to talk somebody’s ear off. Perhaps I could read between her sentences, find out her motives, her intentions, find something to use against her, so I could easily hate her and put distance between us-

Oh.

She was sleeping.

Her body was slumped against the door, neck pillow twisted around to support her forehead from the glass of the window. She cradled her hands to her stomach, the blanket she had just up underneath her chest.

The curve of her face caught my eye the most, the simple stillness of the lines around her lips, the peaceful flutter that ruffled her lashes every so often. I wondered what she dreamt of- rainbows, sunshine, lollipops. I bet she was the type of person who would respond, "World peace," when asked what she would wish for if she had a genie.

God. I really was an asshole. Here was this stranger, this beautiful, seemingly kind stranger, trying to catch up on sleep after traveling nearly 20 hours…and here I was, creating an entire persona around the two facts I actually knew about her. Maybe I should give her a chance, like the guys said. Maybe I should let her in, even if it was barely past the surface, and try to be amicable.

Maybe she wouldn’t sell my name to the paparazzi. Maybe she wouldn’t leak photos of me online, or call news sites to gain traction on social media.

I nearly flinched as she shifted in her slumber, so lost in my thoughts that the disruption was a panic. Her lips parted, just so, as air deflated from her lungs. The hair that curled around her face ruffled from the gentle gust.

Though she looked like Sam, she really was beautiful. Sure, Sam was attractive, in his own way. But, uniquely, Daisy was…honestly, gorgeous, all doe-eyed, rose lips, freckled cheeks.

I kept staring at her, analyzing, accidentally memorizing.

As I felt myself sinking, into my seat, into myself, into this stare I had on her, I straightened up, shoved myself back in the door.

The poor girl wasn’t even awake.

And I was being far too open.

When we reached the hotel, everyone piled out of the Uber. I went to step out, myself, to begrudgingly helped with luggage. But after I cast a casual glance over my shoulder, I noticed Daisy was still asleep. As though she were his responsibility, I found Sam and went to vocalize the issue with him. But he was busy with their bags.

None of the others were really familiar enough with her to consider her.

No one but me, I guess, because I was reaching out my fingers, touching her shoulder, telling her, "We're here."

I swept myself away before she could wake up and look me in the eyes. - "Where's your sister?" Cy inquired, poking at his dish with the fork in his hold.

Sam shrugged as he continued shoveling french fries in his mouth. "Sleeping, I think. She was fucking exhausted. Could barely get herself to bed this morning.”

"Poor girl," Max pouted his bottom lip. "Has she ever traveled this far from home?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Good for her, then. It's hard to just leave everything behind, to leave your everyday life for this type of thing for this long," Max continued.

I listened intently, though I made it seem like I wasn't even conscious of the guys seated at the table with me. Where they thought I was mindlessly stirring my drink, I was reading between the lines of every vague fact Sam dropped about Daisy.

"Well," he held a hand before his mouth as he chewed, swallowed. He sat back as he began to unload more information about his sister, "No offense to her, but she doesn't have much of a life. She works, like, two-three jobs at any given time. She works at some clinic during the day, waits tables in the evening, then does some stuff on campus here and there."

"Shit. Hope she's taking care of herself," Adam commented, thoughtfully.

"She does. I think. I don't know. We don't really get much time together anymore. Ever since mom died...I don't know. It's been hard to stay connected."

"This summer's gonna be good, then, for you guys to get to see each other," Cy touched Sam’s wrist with his fist, encouraging our friend with his response.

"Yeah," Sam's eyes seemed a little distant then, like there were foggy memories, regrets clouding his consciousness, "Yeah, I hope so."

Max went to speak again when Sam's phone went off. He pulled it out, scrolling through the texts he'd received. "Speak of the devil."

Sure enough, Daisy came padding into the hotel bar. Her hair was damp, twisted up behind her head by some clip. Her features were more prominent this way, skin shining with the care she must have just put into it. As she approached us, her perfume breezed off her skin, off her stupid Taylor Swift hoodie, right past my nose.

It smelled so sweet that I had to look away, focus on something else.

Everyone else greeted her, asking about how she slept, how she felt. I was inattentive, attempting to make it seem like I hadn’t just been thrown off balance.

I needed to do something, say something to her, to be welcoming. To make it seem like I wasn’t such a dickhead, even though I pretty much was. So, I worked on some phrases in my head, hoping to catch her in a side conversation, so there wasn’t so much tension with the others listening in. But, she walked out of the bar as quickly as she'd come.

I found the air to be cooler without her occupying the space.

I shivered and turned my chin towards that freeze.

-

Later that evening, I found myself on the hotel roof.

It was one of my favorite spots, no matter which city we were passing through, which state I found myself to be stuck in. I could go up to the highest floor, even if it wasn’t too far off of the ground, tune out the stress that came with work, and relax into the peace and quiet.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanisms my therapist and I had been working on. I was an antisocial person, to say the least. And when I’d had to be around others for too long, working literal overtime to just function like a normal person, I’d become irritable, withdrawn.

So, stalking off in the late hours of the evening with a book in my hand and some lyrics in my head became a usual, practiced ritual that I was comforted by, especially on tours.

The breeze of London flew past my face, braising goosebumps on my neck. I tucked my chin into my hoodie more. There were these tiki lights, all around me and the intimate seating area I occupied, but the little bits of light did nothing to help me see the book in my hands.

I tucked it away after straining for a few moments and settled on just resonating with myself for a bit. I watched the flames of the fire pit before me, listened to it crackle and pop. I was so focused on the peacefulness, that I hadn’t even noticed the elevator ding, nor the person scuffling across the concrete of the roof.

In fact, I didn’t even notice her until she was sitting across from me, these little alcohol bottles in her hands. The movement of her sitting before me flitted my gaze up, edges of my vision blurred slightly from the intensity of the flames. My hearing focused after. There was music streaming from the speakers on her phone, some Taylor Swift song I didn't recognize. I withheld the urge to roll my eyes and studied her movements.

She read the label on the mini shot of Jack Daniels with squinted eyes. I'd never seen someone pay so much attention to a simple liquor Maybe she'd never drank it before. That would be a strange fact, considering she was 23. Every 23 year old I knew had gone through every liquor known to man. Then, she drank it and I realized why she was so observant. Her face turned up in this grimace, lips puckered, brows furrowed. She just couldn't handle her liquor. Her examination of the bottle was really just a hesitance to consume it in the first place.

I stifled a laugh and instead found my words, urged to tease her for this occurrence, "Gonna share?' Maybe I should have intruded her peace more gently, or maybe I should have said something sooner than I did. Either way, I had spooked her enough that she jumped.

Her once shocked grimace twisted into a deep frown, like she was annoyed I had disturbed her. "How long have you been sitting there?"

My grin widened, though it didn't seem like she found much humor in the situation. "Long enough to know you can't take a shot." I held out my hand, awaiting her to hand over one of the bottles. She didn't do that Instead, her face hardened a bit and she made another comment, “Sorry I’m not an alcoholic. If you want one, you have to come get it, by the way. I’m comfy now.”

I was taken back by her crudeness. Everyone said she was so kind, so sweet. I'd even overheard her niceties earlier, at the airport, at the bar. Had I done something?

Instead of setting the record straight, communicating, though, I became defensive to her jabs. As I reached for one of the bottles, I said, "Comfy with this trash music playing?"

Funnily enough, this made her face sink more, if at all possible. Her frown was deep as a river, and murky as one, too, "Real men listen to Taylor Swift."

I tried another joke, hoping it would salvage the wreckage we were feeding, "Hey, haven't you heard? I'm a vessel, not a man?"

I don't know if it did, but she at least continued speaking to me. "So, vessel, what are you doing up here? Can't sleep?"

I tossed my hand in her direction, speaking with my casual satire, "Obviously." I looked away from her, breathless. I was trying so hard, so incredibly hard to seem careless, chill. I didn’t know why I couldn’t just, actually, genuinely not give a fuck.

I reached for my cigarettes, too stressed out to handle a head that was some sober from nicotine. After a long drag, I felt that familiar buzz of a clear head, the temporary reduction of anxiety.

Cigarettes were always a killer ice breaker, helpful in even the toughest, most awkward conversations. So, when my eyes popped back open and met hers, I offered a hit.

If her face had been disgusted before, it was even more so now. "That's okay, thanks," she almost sneered.

I pursed my lips. Okay, I wasn't the only one killing this conversation. She acted like she was just too good for anything that I had to do with. Like if she were to take a drag from this cigarette, she'd be infected with my sickness.

I voiced the concern with my snide tone again. Her response nearly made me choke on my own spit, “More like my mom died of lung cancer because she smoked for thirty years.”

As quick as possible, I stomped the butt into the ground. "Sorry."

She hummed some sort of response, looking away so uncomfortably. I wanted to grovel, to beg for her forgiveness in the case of such a small moment of misunderstanding, but I settled on another painful jab at a nice conversation.

“I’d ask what you’re doing up, but I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the day you had.” She responded in that same dry tone, "Yeah, no."

Annoyed, I began to wonder where all this sweetness had gone. Earlier, with the guys, she had spoken like she'd known them for forever. Here, with me- she acted like I'd spit in her coffee this morning, like I was holding her at gun point just to have this conversation.

I gave up on trying to be overly considerate and shot straight to the point. I wanted answers anyways, and now I had a good reason to search for them, "What's your deal, Daisy?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" She responded.

I shrugged as I crossed my arms over my chest. What did she want it to mean? "Why are you here?" Instead of just answering the question, she countered me, echoing the question. Good fucking game, Daisy Hallett. Good fucking game.

I stretched my body out as I thought, unsure of how to answer. What was I here for? To do my job, obviously. So, I told her that. But, I should have known she would pry deeper. That were her job, after all, to observe, analyze, pry.

“That’s not what you’re here for,” She rejected my words, shaking her head just slightly, “That’s what everyone else is here for. What about you, Oliver?”

I started making music for myself, not anyone else. In the darkest, most terrible parts of my life, it had gotten me through to the other side with ease. It was my biggest coping skill, sitting at a clear number one on the list my therapist and I had outlined.

Getting paid for it, getting to tour and travel cities…that was all a plus. Touring, performing itself, were two things I was still trying to get used to. It was awesome to get to play my music life for others, to help them through to the other side, but it was sometimes…overwhelming, a hard pill to swallow.

So, I answered honestly this time, “To…worship. To celebrate my music, myself…life.”

She was impressed by this answer, pleased, and I could tell this by the stretch of her lips. That sweet, enticing smile did something to me.

As she held up the shot bottle in a gesture to cheers, I returned the smirk. We danced on the edge of some invisible line.

"To life."

I wanted to hear more of her voice, more of...her, more about her. So, I scrambled and said, "Wait, what about you?"

“There’s no deeper meaning to anything I do,” she waved me off.

I understood her more in this moment than I sometimes understood the people closest to me. She was like- she was insecure, she was scared. She was a little kid with monsters under her bed and in her closet.

So, I affirmed her existence with words that seemed so simple, yet would have meant so much for me to hear, too. “Oh, Daisy, there’s always deeper meaning to everything humans do. Think. What’s yours?”

This threw her off balance, yet somehow kept her from falling off the edge. It made the gears in her head turn, made her question her own thoughts. "I guess…I guess…to find that deeper meaning. To find what I’m looking for, maybe.”

She still didn't seem too sure, but I knew that, once this summer ended, once the leaves turned brown, and she returned back to a place called home, she would know it in her bones.

And I think, maybe, I might know it, too.

Sooner, rather than the later that I hoped for, we were in the elevator. Hours of breathless conversation sat, stale in the air on the roof, abandoned as the steel doors trapped us in silence.

The more she told me, the more terrified I was of her very existence. She was smarter than me, and very good at returning snide comments. Her wit was so profoundly intelligent, that I found myself silenced on more than one occasion.

Above all this- she was a disruption- she was chaos. She made me think differently, harder. She made me laugh.

I was drawn in by all of this, by her eyes, by the way the corners of her pink lips curled up into her cheeks. It took me a second to realize that she was staring back up at me, that our shoulders were turning to face one another, that my fingers were grazing the sleeve of her hoodie.

"You're very pretty, Daisy," the words fell out in a dangerous whisper. I loved the way she blushed, the way the tip of her nose scrunched, and she fell back onto her heels a bit.

I would have kissed her, I knew that for sure, had the elevator doors not opened up, had we not parted ways there, in the barren hallways. And I would have sought her out, would have reached for a simple phone number, another moment on the roof, another conversation about life and college and her favorite fucking color...

had I not made it back to my room and looked myself in the eye, through the smudged reflection of the bathroom mirror. The painful eye contact brought me back down to Earth, reminded me of the ugliness swirled up inside my chest, the bitter desire of my own self interest, selfishness.

I was...I was the chaos. I was the disruption. Here was this beautiful, interesting, smart girl...and here was me, this man-giant, who could barely hold a conversation without feeling like he was going to have a panic attack. Besides all that, her brother was my fucking best friend. I was his boss.

This was territory that I could not enter, not without a guilty conscience and someone's broken heart. So, I would proceed with caution, although it ended up making me seem like the worst person in the world.

-

I knew I could no longer keep up the act only a few weeks in, all thanks to Whitney Houston and this stupid pink fucking dress.

I watched her parade herself all night, guzzling drinks like they were air, batting her stupidly prim and perfect eyelashes my way. She knew exactly how to get me going- how to lock me in, most of all. And I was playing right into the fucking game, weak signs and Achilles heels all exposed from the second that she stepped out of that hotel room.

When I saw that knowing, vivacious smirk- I knew tonight would be different.

It wasn't until she was passed out, in my bed, with my hoodie on, that I realized I was falling for her. I had been able to subside the hunger that I felt, the hunger I felt to speak to her, to consume her with my eyes, my teeth, my hands, my body- God. It was easy to push all these thoughts away when she wasn't there- but then, she'd show up at breakfast or dinner or in my dreams and thoughts and desperations and I'd spiral again.

It didn't help that I was letting it get to me so much- and she was literally trained in analyzing behavior. I exposed my curiosities with even the slightest dip in my gaze or lift in my shoulders. There was a moment, during breakfast, when she told us of her plans for the evening of one our first shows- that she wasn't coming to.

Max had to go and make a stupid joke when I just barly glanced up from my plate, "Even Ollie's hurt!" I stopped coming to so many social gatherings, at least where she was concerned. And, then, I got all the space I needed when we took off on the buses.

Everyone flocked to her side, wanting even a second of her attention, while I kept to myself on the other bus. Because I thought the guys might leave me alone about it, I could almost reside in absolute peace.

But, then, Ronnie came knocking on my bunk.

It was early morning. We were stopped for gas, somewhere in Northern Italy. The bus was deadly silent, with nothing but my own quiet breath and the hum of the outside world to keep e company. Ronnie came in, bounding, like she always did. She slammed the bus door shut, jarring me from the focus I'd had on the game of Mario Kart pulled up on my Switch. Next thing I knew, she was ripping open the curtain to my bunk.

"Why the fuck are you rotting in here like a mummy? I'm close to wrapping you up in toilet paper and shoving you in with the suitcases!"

I rolled my eyes as she spoke and slouched my shoulders away. The hood of my sweatshirt dipped enough that she was no longer in my view. "Sam needs to stop gassing up your jokes. It's getting to your head."

"You're literally just jealous because your jokes are only ever mean and borderline tone-deaf," Ronnie grabbed the lip of my hood and tugged it down over my face.

I wriggled away from her, Switch dropping towards the inside of the bunk. I shoved her hands away. "Says you, Miss Jimmy Carr."

Ronnie's jaw jutted open a bit, "Now that's fucked, Ollie."

I went to jab back again, but she held up a hand, head tilted like she was a tired, annoyed mother of a band of men babies. "Stop while you're ahead, dude. Back to what I came in to harass you about- you need to come join us! We're playing Mario Kart with peaches- Daisy, sorry. You guys would get along sooo great. I know you're, like, weird about new people, but she's so fucking funny. Please, please just come over, hang out, be chill for once in your life."

Peaches. They had given her a nickname. Peaches, as if she weren't already sweet enough to sour the cuts on my skin.

I huffed and puffed at the rant as I pulled my hood down the back of my head. "First of all, I don't play Mario Kart-"

"I literally hear the music coming from your Switch," Ronnie pointed with a dead stare at the device, muffled humming rumbling from beneath my blanket.

I met her eye, absent any shame of my white lie. I took a breath and dove back into my rejection, "Second of all, why the hell do you guys give out the cringiest, most ridiculous nicknames? Like, peaches?What even is that?"

"It's called joy, magic, and fun, you grinch," Ronnie pinched my elbow. I flinched away from her touch again and she snickered. "If you don't like Daisy, just say so. I won't tell anybody. I'll just resent and judge you in silence- silent words, not punches."

What did she mean, that I didn't like Daisy? I knew I'd been passive towards her, but I never made it so obvious-

The expression on my face must have read confusion or shock because Ronnie popped a hip and crossed her arms.

"Listen," she added, "I know that she probably irks you. I get it. You're the bad boy, dark soul type and she's this ray of fucking sunshine and, yes, peaches. Just- give her a chance before you rain all over her parade."

"I literally never said I had a fucking problem with her. Why does everyone think I hate her guts when I've literally only ever had one conversation with her?" I frustratedly spoke, words rushed together. Ronnie stood back a second, reading the scrunch of my brows, the way I pushed myself up onto my elbows. Then, her offended frown morphed into something knowing, as though bits of information clicked in her head.

"Oh," she rhythmed, grinning now, "I see what's going on here. Hey, she's gorgeous.” "Oh, my God, here we go," I stood from my bunk, now, unwilling to just lay there and listen to her try to evaluate my behavior.

Ronne didn't follow me as I made my way to the back room, "Ollie...just remember who you are. And who she is."

And this sentence alone threw me for the biggest loop.

I didn't even know what she meant by that, but as well I knew Ronnie...it was definitely more than met the eye, deeper than any surface level warning anybody else could give. Not only did I know Ronnie well, but she could read me like a book. She knew what to say to make my skin crawl. Who I am...who Daisy is.

Analyzing the statement from top to bottom, general to specific, it was simple. She was my best friend’s brother. And I was his boss.

It meant more than that, though.

Ronnie meant that Daisy…Daisy was delicate. Daisy was meat, fresh off a shattered bone, and I was a hound.

I was always the hound. The Albatross, even. A winged creature always coming in to swipe shiny things off of stormy shores.

Ronnie didn’t want to harm me with the statement, but she sure as hell wanted to humble me. And that she did.

Each time I found myself aching to find Daisy’s gaze, I’d shrink back into myself. Remember my place. Remember who I was.

And, then…that damn Whitney Houston song. That damn pink dress.

Ronnie knew I was slipping, when I first spotted Daisy, in the doorway of her hotel room, long legs on display. I caught my lips beginning to party, drool beginning to pool in my teeth. This appreciative smirk came upon my face until I met Ronnie’s frown.

And I moved on.

I kept trying to move on, to fly away, leave the gold necklace on the beach for some other lucky, hopeless idiot to clean the sand off of, treasure for the rest of their sorry days.

I paid for her meal, as some sort of reparation for the damage I must’ve done all evening, being the hungry being I was while she toyed with the lock on my cage.

But, I just couldn’t . Especially not when she was running from the bar, sickness visible on her face. I could’ve left it where it was- Max was shuffling after her, ready to help, ready to hold her hair up.

Before I knew it, my feet were racing me out of the door, my hand was on Max’s shoulder, a kind smile was reassuring him that I could handle it, that he could go back to having fun.

My hands were in her hair, my neck was cradling the crown of her head, she was reaching for my wallet, letting us into the hotel room, laying down on my bed. I was giving her my hoodie, placing a bandage on her leg, caressing her fruity skin.

And then…just like that, as quickly as the rain began, like when you can see it in sheets, pounding into the Earth, just there, off in the distance…then it’s splattering on your windshield, the sound jarring you from your tired drive, the blur harming your vision of the road.

It was raining in my hotel room.

I didn’t have an umbrella.

I spent the entire night, laying there on the bed beside her, faced away, tensed up. Every breath she took stopped my heart. Every wrinkle from the white sheets made my eyes blink.

I was spending so much of my thought process trying to remember the taste of her fleeting lips on my own, pressing my fingers to them as though they were stained from her, as though I could close my eyes and taste them, again and again and again.

Then, in the morning, she returned my hoodie. There was this…look…this distant, worried look. Had she remembered? Had she remembered the words I said? Was this going to change anything? Everything? At breakfast, I ignored her persistent eyes, the gaze burning into my soul for answers. When she told us she couldn’t remember anything, I was little relieved.

If she didn’t remember, I could put distance between us, try to forget it myself- try to forget the way her fingers buried themselves into my hair. Try to forget the feel of her nose, pressed into my cheek, her chest, warm against my own.

While I was able to put physical distance between us this week, being that work kept us busy. But, the mental, emotional yards were harder to climb.

Once we made it through the airport, to Italy, I began my practice of celibacy, against the thoughts of her, against us.

I think part of me knew it wouldn’t last. I think part of me didn’t want it to. I think that’s why I was there- in the elevator, headed for the roof, in hopes that I might find her there. I didn’t even know if it was a place she frequented, but my intuition told me it was a good place to look.

And I was right.

I acted shocked when I first saw her, like it didn’t help my blood pump, seeing her, feet in the water, hair curling around her forehead.

She looked so…tense. Stressed. There was this permanent furrow in her brow. Did she really not remember…anything? At all?

Though it was a relief, I wanted to jog her memory (I wanted to kiss her).

I asked Daisy, barely glancing over at her in the seat beside me. From the corner of my eye, I watched her chew upon on her bottom lip, “Not really.”

Why did it feel like a lie?

She must’ve remembered something. Sure, she had been drinking, but…she was smarter than that. “Okay,” I choked, snatching another look at her.

I noticed Daisy turn her chin to return the gaze and I looked back at the city. I couldn’t look into her eyes, look at her face. I’d crumble.

“Is there something I should be remembering?”

It was timid, shy. But bold.

Bolder than I could bring myself to be right now.

Unable to find my own words, unable to form my own lie, I echoed her.

“Okay,” she copied.

The moment swelled in my mind. I wanted- needed her to remember. I wanted her to feel the ache in my bones at the thought of our lips pressed together. Wanted her to feel the longing Maybe then, she’d be the one to break, and I could blame it on her. Make her out to be the bad guy, going after me.

What a fucked up thing to think about.

Before I could catch myself, I blurted, “You don’t remember-“

At the same time, she went to push further on the topic.

I excused myself, motioned for her to continue. But, of course, she let me go instead.

“You don’t remember coming back to the hotel?”

I knew I was confusing her.

“Not really. you’re sure there’s nothing you want to tell me? Something important I should be remembering?” her knuckles, clasped together, were turning white.

I shrugged and pretended to be unaware, “I don’t think so.”

“Why did you tell me to come sit with you?”

She really knew how to make a guy question his own thought patterns. It would make her a really great therapist- but it just made me want to run.

To hide. To slip away from this disruption in my damaged peace.

I sighed, thoughtful, though still unsure, “I don’t know. Thought it would be nice. Like when we were in London-“

“Like when we were in London and you proceeded to pretend like we never did this? Like when we were in London and you kept interrupting me, so I couldn’t tell everyone we had been up on the roof together?”

So, she was pissed.

I knew she would be. She acted like she didn’t care, but I saw through the disguise. It reminded me of me.

I shrugged, putting on the same play, “Like that.”

I guess that was the comment that sent her off the edge, though. She was too guarded, too respectful of herself to take the bullshit I pushed. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

That wasn’t it for me. I needed to know what she knew. She obviously remembered more than she was letting on.

I slid into the elevator behind her, “Daisy-“

I swear to God, the rhythm of her breathing palpitated when I said her name-

“I need you to be honest with me. What do you remember?”

“Oh, cause you’re such a conscientious person yourself?”

I pulled at my hair, stressfully, “I really don’t think we’re on the same page right now, Daisy. Please, if we could just talk about this, if you could just tell me what you remember-“

Gears seemed to click in her brain. Something I said, the way I moved, the flash of the stars in her eyes, something had triggered a memory in her head. Something suddenly made sense.

I tried to help, though I was probably just being an asshole. “I want to figure this out, okay?”

I wanted to figure her out.

Whatever clicked was- it fucked things up.

“Oliver,” she frowned, “I can’t play this game with you.”

Game?

What game?

I was only ever playing defense- keeping to myself, keeping her away from my heart, trying to maintain distance. She had kissed me- I was the one to turn her away.

My shoulders fell, “What game? Daisy…I’m confused!”

“So am I, Oliver!”

Fuck. The way she said my name-

“I’m- you’re fucking with my head!”

Like she wasn’t fucking with mine?!

I went back to my original question, hoping to continue digging there, instead of worrying about this new hole she was unburying, “What do you remember?”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver! I just don’t want to do this with you. Max is right. I should listen to him.” What the fuck did Max say? Why was he involving himself in this? How did he even know about- us- when we didn’t even- what?

What was happening?

“I’m not doing this with you.”

The doors opened, and she was leaving me. In her dust. In the swell of her words.

I retreated back to my room, throat tight, chest contracting for any gulp breath I could get. I fell back against the door like there were bullet holes bleeding out of my chest. I wanted to just...be honest. To be honest with her. Tell her what I really thought, what really happened, how I felt about her.

It wasn't the boundaries holding me back now. All my senses of morality and respect for our situation were dead. It was me. I was the iceberg. I was the gun.

I found my way to the bed, lay there like an empty casket. Dead, hollow, shards of wood. Why was I so afraid of her?

Maybe she'd be good for me...better than the last relationship I had, that much I could already tell. But, maybe she didn't want me for that.

Maybe she wanted to scalp me for my money, for my fame, dish out the gossip to the tabloids. Maybe she wanted to love me.

Maybe I deserved something good. Maybe I deserved to take a risk on something. Maybe I needed to. I was outside her door, before I was really conscious to my own movements, knocking, waiting. For barely a second.

She was opening the door, standing there in this barren light like an angel.

"Daisy."

I was kissing her.

Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, whatever cruel fate she may prophesize or goodness she may expose to my paled skin- I didn't care.

Because she was kissing me.

-

I hadn’t been with someone for over a year.

That was what was so jarring about the entire situation.

It made me cautious, held me back. I’d been on a dating ban since I switched to my new therapist, who wanted me to focus on myself more than I always did on another person.

And for a while, it was going well.

Until Daisy disrupted that.

I knew, for as long as she was alive, breathing my air, I just could never be alone.

Usually, when I dated someone, when I was with them…I still felt that loneliness because I would give so much. And that person never returned it.

Daisy did, by a tenfold. She was…present. She so easily showed up, made time for me, chased me down when I went into those bouts of self isolation.

It was difficult to let her in…to let her join me in the dark.

But she made it feel less lonely. She made me feel…whole.

I started going to breakfast more often, started including myself in the group activities. Not only did she make me feel less alone, but she made me feel like I needed human connection.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?”

I scoffed at my therapist’s words, so simple for something so complex. “Warm. It’s hot. I feel like I’m on fire.”

“Good. Burn,” she responded. “You’re in the light now, Oliver. How do you feel about it?”

“Wow, what a question,” I teased.

Dr. Grime sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement was delayed, due to the time zone different, the laggy wifi in the hotel room. “Seriously, Oliver. Is it…do you feel like you want to snuff it out?”

“Of course I do,” I shuffled on my bed, “you know me. Something good comes and I feel like I don’t deserve it. But…I think it might be okay if I hang around in this for a while.”

“I think so, too,” she smiled. “I like how your language has changed, too. You’d tell me, ‘I don’t deserve this.” Now you say, you feel like you don’t deserve it. You’re recognizing rational thoughts from emotional ones. That’s very important. I’m proud of you.”

I offered a strained smile in response, uncomfortable with her praise. It was appreciated, though, and gave me body a sense of accomplishment.

Maybe I was getting better.

“So, this Daisy,” she leaned forward, more intrigued with the personal aspect of my love life, like some maternal figure.

I chuckled, shaking my head approvingly, “Daisy.”

“Do you…love her?” Dr. Grime poked.

I blushed, deeply, but quickly shoved the thought away, “Oh, no. No way. I…I barely know her. That’s- that’s crazy. Definitely not. No.”

My phone dinged in rhythm with the end of my sentence. It was her.

Daisy: soon as sam goes to bed, i can be over

My eyes lingered on the text, more concerned with this situation now than the accusatory, knowing tone of my therapist’s words.

“Mm,” she paused, “no, of course. So, is this just…a casual summer fling for you? A way to get over everything this, figure out what it is you want out of a relationship? It’s important to have something like this, a stable ground to work up off of for the future, considering you don’t have a great idea as to what love should be like.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, toying with my phone. I stared at the message, reading and rereading the message again and again.

What…was this.

What was this to me?

What was this…to her?

We’d established some boundaries, mostly that I couldn’t really commit to anything to serious. And she said that had been okay.

Was I still okay with that?

Was that still what I wanted?

I was so obviously falling in love with her, but I would never tell anybody that.

Especially not her.

But it didn’t matter if I loved her- did I want her that way? Did I want this to last past the summer?

I did.

And that’s what scared me the most.

Loving her beyond the swept up dream we were caught in, back home, domestically. Loving her casually, routinely, in the kitchen back in my apartment, through school, sharing plants and bath towels.

I wanted that.

I wanted her…her ends and odds.

I lied, “No. I don’t want that right now. Got tour going on, new album soon. You know. Busy.”

Long after therapy ended, I stared at the message. The sun had set, the day had died…and I just couldn’t think of anything to say.

I think if I were to be around her right now, I might blurt out some passionate, mindless thing that I couldn’t bring us back from.

I needed to do…what I always did. Be alone. Ruminate in my thoughts in the darkness of a foreign hotel room in a strange city. All alone.

This felt…easier. Comfortable. What I was good at.

Yeah…this was easier.

The next day, I couldn’t stay from her any longer.

I needed her and she was needed that, too- however we could get each other.

So I pushed aside the feelings I had for her- put up all my walls and boundaries, and took her into my arms-

We would have this summer, even if it killed us.

–

"Hiya, Ollie, dear!"

My mother's voice was a sweet symphonic sound to my tired ears. We were in near opposite time zones, hundreds of miles apart, and I missed her more than anything. Touring usually took everything out of me and she was the one, separate, stable person I could turn to.

We'd only called once or twice the past few months due to my obsessed perversions with a certain best friend's sibling who had been taking up all of my time- not that I was complaining about who.

It was only recently that my mom and I had established such good rapport. Since I was young, she'd struggled to wrap her head around my career choices. Now that I was fully devoted to the act, and quite successful, she pushed aside her disagreement with it and chose to just keep supporting me.

Though I couldn't always answer, her calls were welcome.

"Hi, mum," I sat up in the hotel bed, my back sighing in gratitude at the change in posiiton. i had been rotting in here for a few hours, a little bored since Daisy was out with her friend. I could've went and hung with the guys, but I honestly needed some time to myself. That time was starting to really feel like loneliness, though. I guess before I met Daisy, they were empty hours full of empty feelings. Now, I was waking up to the reality of my existence. I'd made it so dull.

"Are you in Paris yet? Or are you still travelling?"

"We made it a few days ago," I replied. “Show’s tomorrow."

"Oh, I love Paris," she remarked. I could hear her lovely grin through the tone of her words. "I remember when we went there on a school holiday. My favorite part was the Eiffel Tower. It's so big. Now, I hear that it sparkles. You'll have to take a photo for me."

"Sure, mum."

"Have you gotten out much or are you holing up in your hotel room?"

Sheepishly, I scratched my neck. My response was delayed a bit; we both knew the answer. “Uh...I’m getting out there. Ya know, hanging out.”

“Ugh, Ollie,” I could nearly hear the roll of her eyes through the phone. “You know need a lady friend. Someone to drag you out of your bed. I mean, how many times do you get to see Paris. And get paid for it!”

At the mention of a ‘lady friend,’ I blushed. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her about Daisy, and damn did I want to. Though we weren’t even officially together. I didn’t know how to explain that to my mom, so maybe I’d just shy away from the topic, talk about something else.

But I guess my lapse of silent thinking made her think that there already was a lady friend.

“Oh?” she questioned with a cheerful lace to her tone. I didn’t say anything, my brain was unable to come up with anything in response. Acting defensive always made people think the opposite of what I said. Should I just tell her? Get it out of the way? Let her lecture me about my poor choices.

“Well, I won’t badger you. When you're ready,” she was already responding.

I was surprised that she was going to leave it there, to say the least, which only furthered my sentence. She usually pushed until I gave her some semblance of the truth. As she was getting older, I’d realized she gotten more relaxed and didn’t push as much as she used to. I think it was partially due to the guilt she felt for everything between us growing up.

So, I just went to move the subject along when she jumped back on it, “Just- please don’t tell me it’s that Fiona girl. I’m so sorry if it is. I just can’t sit around and watch you be treated so poorly by someone so...so awful. Again. Her personality is just- wow. Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. I went to school with her mum, and she was awful towards me. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree-”

I had to stop her while she was ahead. I guess some things never really, truly changed. "Mum, please! I’m not seeing Fiona again, I promise. I’m not...”

I wasn’t offended that she thought I was. It was just...more or so shocking. Shocking that she thought I’d put myself back in that. I had, a handful of times before. But...I was different now.

I guess she hadn't been around me these past few months, but I had truly changed. This past May’s Oliver very well could’ve let Fiona waltz back into his life. But July’s Oliver? He would’ve been hesitant.

And, even more so- Daisy’s Oliver...Daisy’s Oliver was a changing man. Daisy’s Oliver was a better man.

And I wanted to tell my mum that, I decided. She needed to know- it would ease her mind, along with my own. I know she was always worried for me. So, I told her-

“No, I’m seeing someone else. Her name...her name’s Daisy,” that felt good to admit, to put into the Universe, that I was seeing her, and she was seeing me, even if there were no labels attached.

“Daisy?” she perked up at the name. “That’s a pretty name. What’s she look like? You got any pictures you can text me?”

I realized quickly that I didn’t. In the near two months that we had been sleeping together, consuming one another’s souls, we hadn’t taken a single picture. It was probably for the best, just in case they somehow fell into the wrong hands. But- there were so many moments I could’ve- should’ve- captured. Moments of Daisy, hair whipping past her face on the roof, the lights of Italy glowing behind her like she had angelic wings. Daisy, in my hotel room, in the early morning before she had to sneak away. Tired eyes and an even more exhausted smile as she laughed at something stupid, I’d done in my sleep.

I wanted one. I wanted a picture of her, a picture of us, whatever I could get.

For now, all I had was my memories to help me describe her to my mum. It was easy to do so, considering she was etched into the very nerves in my mind.

“No, I don’t,” I breathed out, “but she’s beautiful. She’s got this-this- God, I can’t even describe her to you. Her hair’s darker, like yours. She’s got these brown eyes. Shorter than me, of course. You can always tell it’s her, though, just by the way she carries herself. She’s got this energy. You’d just have to see it to believe it.”

“She sounds amazing, Ollie,” she sighed distantly then giggled, “Well, if she’s so pretty, where are the pictures? I need to see her! Need to see what this talk is all about.”

I chuckled in response, “I know, I know. I suck.”

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’s difficult, with you on tour and her...what does she do, exactly? Where is she from? Would I know her?”

Here came the long winded, shameful explanation of everything between Daisy and me. The feelings that weren’t feelings, the girl who wasn’t mine, the upset sea tumultuous between us. Her brother. Sam.

I tried my best, “Well, she’s working towards her counseling license. So, she goes back to school in the fall. But right now, she’s on tour with us. Her brother works- um...Sam’s her brother. She just wanted to do some traveling before getting tied down for the next few years.”

“Sam? Sam Hatlett? She's his little sister?” There was a bit of shock in her tone now like I imagined there would be. Sam was like a brother to me, and mum knew that. In fact, she loved Sam. She always had.

When she first met him, she’d pulled him under her wing like a mother bird, like she could just feel that he needed her. So, to imagine that I might go after his little sister is rightfully shocking. It was close to home.

“I know, I know. Again, I suck,” I laughed, though I felt so tense. Rubbing my neck didn’t ease the tension in my skin.

“You don't suck, darling. It’s just a precarious situation, I’m sure. How does Sam feel about it all? Was he weird when you first started dating Daisy?”

When I first began to tell my mum about Daisy, I doubted whether or not I wanted to be completely honest. But I easily fell into the comfortability of her warm conversation and realized I could not bend the truth. Not only did she deserve to know it, but she needed to. I knew, too, that she wasn’t going to judge me, tell me I was making a bad decision. It took three times with Fiona for her to begin voicing her opinion.

Above all, I didn't need to jump through any hoops to win her approval. I didn’t have to play a role, fill a part. I was me. And she loved that man.

I realized, subconsciously, that this was how I felt about Daisy, too. Comfortable. Easy.

Loved.

I explained things to my mom, carefully, making sure she knew of the endless boundaries Daisy always ensured we had and the sweet, delicate moments that made everything worth it. I nearly fell into myself, swept up in the reminiscent beauty of it all. God, I missed her, even if it had been only two days since I’d seen her. Her friend Sasha was in town and took up all her time.

I didn’t know what I was expecting my mom to say, so I held my breath after I finished saying, “But, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just a summer thing or what. We’re both kinda in weird positions, so we’re not too worried about that, I guess. We’re just...having fun, ya know?”

As the insecurity rose up my throat and choked me out, I sighed out the rest of the air I had in me and added, “We’re not, like, in love or anything.”

I hadn’t expected her to laugh, that’s for sure.

But she laughed. My mum giggled, like things were well and truly hilarious, like I had just told her a joke. I waited there in silence, waiting for her to make fun of me for being so stupid as to let this situation occur. Laugh at me for being terrible at love and life. There goes Oliver again, breaking hearts, getting his heart broken. He can’t even be in a stable relationship! Laugh, laugh, laugh.

She said, “You are crazy, Ollie,” but it wasn’t meant in a harsh manner.

It wasn’t condescending, it wasn’t mean. She wasn’t making fun of me. She was...she was laughing because it was funny.

“You are usually so good at going after things. I mean, look at you with your music, darling. I said no, how many times? I insisted you do something, anything else. I never supported you financially. I never...I never supported you. I was the odds you were testing yourself against and looking at you now! I mean,” her voice cracked. A sniffle followed. My muscles eased from the discomfort I felt into something that wanted to reach for her through the phone, hug her.

“I know your father and I didn’t give you the best example for love. I know we weren’t some movie star-couple that everyone always knew would last forever. We fought. We weren’t there for you when we should have been. Your father left you. And then I held all these stupid expectations up to you, to try to make you better. And you! You’re successful!”

“And I give you all the credit for that. You are...my pride and joy, Ollie. My life. I am so proud of you, darling. But it breaks my heart, still, that you have not been able to find happiness. That you must spend so much time repairing what I broke. We cannot blame everybody else- you can...you can blame me, Ollie. I know I am to blame. And that is okay.”

“So, forgive me for laughing, forgive me for calling you crazy and stupid and wild, darling, but- it's right in front of your face, Ollie! She’s right there in front of you. Daisy. Darling, if you’re still questioning what love is, what it’s supposed to feel like...please let me knock some sense into you! You are wasting so much precious time on believing that it can only leave. It doesn’t have to stay for long for it to be important. If she leaves at the end of the summer, you will regret not telling her.”

I didn’t have to ask her what she meant; what she knew I’d regret not saying. I knew it, I knew it as well as I knew Daisy’s face, even more clear in my memory now.

“You can beat around the bush some more if you’d like, or you can carry on with this facade you’re so deeply transfixed by. Darling, I know it’s hard to let the chaos subside, to let the goodness in, but as I am getting older, I am realizing that it is bright. It is...comfortable. It is good. You deserve to have a lifetime of that. Don’t waste any more time, Ollie. Please tell her, please let her tell you. Please just...hold what you have.”

I had borne a hole into the wall, but snapped out of my still position when I felt a tear roll down the side of my nose. “H-how? How do I tell her?”

“However you need to,” she chuckled lightly. “Although, here’s a hint, Ollie: you are in the City of Love. Take advantage.”

I knew our call was ending and didn’t know when we’d get to speak again. So, like she had told, I took advantage of the moment and I held what I had; “Mum, just so you know,” my voice came out as a whisper, a gentle patter of rain on the roof.

“Yes, Ollie?” she whispered, too, like there was a gentle card deck stacked between us. I think maybe there was- I think there was always some sort of tension lingering from the harsh moments we’d beat into each other; the fighting, the leaving, the crying. I don’t think she ever felt like I’d forgiven her, as if I really needed to. She had been growing up, too, after all.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I know, baby,” I felt relieved that there was a smile in her tone, “now, go. You have some more dreams to chase down. And, Ollie?” “Yeah?”

“Get some pictures for me.”

-

I was lucky that, the next day, everyone was busy with their own plans on opposite sides of the city. So Daisy and I were able to spend some time together, outside of this drywall prison. I was a pretty good listener, too, and remembered all the spots Daisy had gushed about seeing in the little time we’d had together these past few weeks. I was being given the perfect setup to do what I needed to do: we were going to be alone, in the most romantic city on planet Earth. I could finally tell her how I felt.

Of course, so much of me shook with anxiety. What if- she didn’t feel the same way? She didn’t want to risk it? She didn’t want to commit to someone this close to school? Let alone someone who lived across the world from her? These weren't my only fears. There were so many revolving around my career that I could’ve drowned beneath their weight.

Yet, each time I looked at her, I was anchored to her shoes. I couldn’t drift out to sea. I was grounded. Though my fears about how she would react sank, it took another amount of effort to get the words out.

I could’ve done it right away, gotten it out there, cleared the air, so we could enjoy each other even more. That would’ve been the best way: I would've gotten answers, started the day out on the right foot. But, when we got out onto the streets, I was swept up in the busy buzz of the crowds. It was loud in the cafe we grabbed breakfast at, loud on the sidewalks, overly crowded by the river. We finally found a place to sit, breakfast sandwiches and drinks in hand. Though there were still throngs of people all around us. So what good was the City of Love when it was full of ignorant tourists?

The anxiety of what I wanted to do was making me feel grumpy. I shut down a little bit, unable to really engage in much conversation, let alone tell her how I felt. I think it just looked like exhaustion to Daisy, so she didn’t really notice. I did- I was hyperaware of every short sentence, every avoided gaze. All of these people are going to be standing here when I tell her. They’re going to watch her reject me and they’re going to know. They're going to know I’m not good enough. She’s going to walk away from me, leave me stranded in the park, alone with my own rejection and denial. I’m not good enough I’m not good enough.

I thought about what my therapist would tell me, ways to snap myself out of this maladaptive pattern of behavior. My brain lies, she always said. It makes things up, creates false realities based off things others have said to me, or moments of true insecurity rooted in no sense of truth.

Daisy would want me, even if I wasn’t good enough. That was the one assurance I could tell myself to shake off the weary thoughts.

And if she didn’t- well, I don’t think thinking about that was going to help me very much. So, when we got back into the hustle and bustle, shopping around the city, visiting the sights, I opened myself back up.

I didn't know if I’d ever find the confidence. I was on the precipice again, after lunch, when I began spewing cheesy pet names as a sublimation for the words I needed to say. It shocked her at first, hearing such sweet things coming from me. And that stung a little. Was I that monstrous towards her that simple affections made her brows shoot up? Was I that bad? I repeated them once, twice, just so she really knew I meant it.

The day went on and on and I cowered in on myself even more. There were plenty more ample moments, but I just kept letting the clock tick down. I knew we were running out of precious time. If I didn’t tell her now, we would go straight back to secret moments in a hotel room, balancing on a tightrope, pretending like the moment the leaves changed color, we wouldn't be losing each other. I just knew Daisy wanted that about as much as I did.

Just when I was giving up hope, I found my moment, finally. Just after we had stopped to view the Eiffel Tower, some street side scam artist grabbed some pictures of us and was trying to convince me to spend $200 on the copies. At first, I brushed it off, until I caught a small peak at the images on his camera. Before he could spout another line, I was giving him $100. He gave me three photos.

Where my words may fail, these pictures couldn’t. You wouldn’t have to know Daisy and I personally to well and truly and see how infatuated we were with each other. I wasn’t even worried anymore that she wouldn’t want me. I was worried she wouldn’t want the risk, the jump, the caution of a fall.

These would be to convince her to leap. These had to be.

I stopped us outside the hotel, knowing if once we stepped inside, our memories might as well be cleared of the day's events. We would be going back to normalcy, to the real world. Our friends would be waiting there, we would allow the gap between us to grow. I would swallow my words and choke on them.

“I love you,” I pictured myself saying. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you in London, you in Paris, you at home. I love you from the hotel rooms we’ve indented to the streets we’ve wandered. I love you in the plane, on the bus, in every inch of this world.”

But it just wouldn’t come out.

I tried to encourage myself by thinking of who I was just a year ago. By thinking of how I was a year ago, the person I was dating, the situation I was caught up in. Fiona, the endless hours of fighting, of begging. Crying, screaming, the blood sport we played. Hunter and prey, me the victim and yet the one wielding the sword. I thought of Daisy when I first met her. The scent of her in my nostrils, like a clue that I was to hunt for as long as I could run. Of her in my teeth, when I first caught up to her incessant running. The satisfaction I felt, how disgusting that was. How horrible it was that I loved the taste of her blood on my lips.

And how much better I could breathe knowing that I had let go, that I had put my claws away and instead threaded a needle to stitch her skin close. How beautful that was- the beast retracting, the mask falling away. A true creature coming to light, renewed and willing.

Tears welled in my eyes. The words were there, finally, waiting just atop my tongue. She was leaning closer, clutching my hand, clutching those photos like a rosary, like she would sacrifice herself for me. I would, too. I would I would I would I would.

I think I hesitated a moment too soon, or I think she could tell what was happening. I think tha- that, I think that she was running again.

I think she wanted me to chase her or to stop, or she was placing traps in the woods, waiting for the wolf with a bow in arrow.

Because she was pulling away. And our friends were calling our names.

I didn’t have time to think, wrapped up in the swell of the arrival of our friends.

But I felt the death of the moment. It was heavy. It was rotten.

Later, I sat alone in my dressing room before the show, the photo I had kept between my fingers. I swear I could hear her breath, echoing from inside the paper frame of us. Swear I could feel her hands on my arms, grasping as though the wind would take us away from each other. Her lips on my cold ones, warm and fueling like a kindled fire.

I wondered if she threw the photos away. If she stared at them, with resentment. If she wanted to burn them.

Yet, I could’ve lived and died in that moment if I had to. If I was never able to tell her how I really felt about her, I’d be content to waste away, hanging on her lips like a vine, rotting from indecision and cowardice.

Eventually, Sam poked his head in to let me know it was time to go on. I flinched when he first spoke. It drew me back to reality in harsh, cold lighting. I drew the photo from my face, met his eye, and nodded.

I was lucky he didn’t ask any questions about my reserved response, though I knew he was aware that I was getting into character as this vessel. Part of me wished he had asked, though, if only to have someone to share the darkness with again, if even for just a second. And maybe outing Daisy and I to Sam would force me to tell her everything. Force some sort of decision to fall from the loitering hammer that hung above us.

Sam left. I set the photo down on the counter, not even thinking straight enough to put it away somewhere. Then, I hung the mask on my face, edges of my eyes darkened, just like my mind.

Part of me wished I didn’t even have to perform tonight. Every time I put on this disguise, I was reminded of those dark parts of me, the parts of me that were too much like this creature the costume made into. When I’d first come up with the character, I felt so strongly that I was just like Vessel- nothing but a pit of black, music transporting through me like some god had planted it there. I hadn’t been aware of my very real feelings. I just sat there, in that emptiness.

Things were different now.

Maybe I just needed a break from it all, from the costumes and the concerts and Daisy. Well, not Daisy. Not her. Just...everything involving her.

But never her. I just wanted her always, everywhere.

I didn’t get to have that, though, the break nor Daisy.

In fact, all I got was a slap in the face. When I went on stage, I spotted Daisy in the audience. For a split second, there was a lift in my heart, a fire in my bones. She was here. She hadn’t pulled away- she wanted me. She wanted me.

Then, as the lights flickered, I noticed the look of guilt on her face and the hand around her waist, She was here...with someone else.

I felt myself retracting, cocooning, not for growth, not for birth into something good, something with fluttering wings...but into that moth. Into that darkness.

Into that vessel.

In my fury, I laid claim to Daisy in all the wrong ways. I held her by the throat and let her dangle from my lips, reminded her how desparate she was for me, reminded her just how much she relied on my game. It had never been and never would be our game. I was the villain. I was the hunter.

She was my prey.

I was losing hope for my own reconciliation, for my own change. Maybe I would just always be detached, dark, monstrous. Maybe I would never be able to commit, to give in, to be someone’s something.

Maybe I was just this vessel, and maybe this vessel was just me.

Maybe I was never good enough for Daisy, but just enough to satisfy her furious need for that bad. And that was enough for me.

-

Things got worse when Fiona started blowing up my phone.

I wasn’t sure how she had gotten my number. I had changed it back in March, when I’d ended- really ended- things with her. And, with my career, it wasn’t like I’d just handed my number out to any person on the street. I had, maybe, ten contacts on my phone.

Daisy was one of the few I responded to.

But, somehow, someway, Fiona had gotten hold of my number and began blowing my phone up with messages. I blocked her the minute I noticed, after a show when I had time to get on my phone. Then, a few days later, she started messaging from a different number.

They were innocent claims- she kept saying I had left things at her flat and needed to come pick them up. But I knew her better than that. She was trying to use this to weasel back into my head, my heart. She’d convince me to come pick everything up and then, when I was there, she’d start crying. Start saying how much she loved and needed me. She’d convince her into her bed, and we’d start spiraling down into that same old waltz we both knew too well.

After I blocked this contact, I guess she evolved. She started using an unknown number, so I couldn’t even block the contact. I called my manager immediately and told him I needed to get a new phone number. Apparently, all the stores around us were closed for a few days, which just so happened to be my fucking luck. But he promised to get something for as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I just had to ignore her.

So, I booked a last-minute therapy appointment.

I glossed over everything with my doctor, telling myself that things with Daisy were hopeless. She obviously thought me to be disposable. I mean, I had watched how quickly she’d pulled away, how quickly she found another empty face in the crowd.

I didn’t want to admit that shameful situation to my doctor. I didn’t want her to know I’d let myself fall again.

Instead, we talked about Fiona, about the temptress knocking on my door. My doctor kept reminding me to, “Stay strong. Know your worth.”

Easy words for someone in a healthy, happy marriage.

All it would take was one more wrong look from Daisy and one wrong text from Fiona, and I’d end up back off the cliff.

So, I clung to the guys. Daisy had been...not so distant but detached. Cautious. She was taking the lead, so I followed. We still hung out, still fucked like we had been doing. Still had these meaningful, deep conversations that made me wonder, over and over, what the fuck was going through her head. But honestly, I now spent some of that extra time with Max, Cy, Adam, or Sam. We were due to begin working on the next album and I had plenty of ideas floating around in my head.

It was peaceful, quaint. Something I’d missed. Maybe I wouldn’t be ready to start dating again if something like this caused me so much stress.

Adam was texting me now, wondering if I wanted to hang out sometime this morning, talk about the album. I told him I’d let him know what time, considering Daisy was in my bed. And Fiona was blowing my phone up like fucking crazy.

The whole situation threw me off. She wasn’t really concerned about it, but made numerous, passive jokes about me having a secret girlfriend. I don’t know if it was because she really, truly wanted me to be exclusive to her, or if it was just something to do with her pride.

Signals were still mixed, even after we’d had a conversation about how committed we were to each other. Part of me wondered if it had just been an act, her agreement to never see anybody else, her admittance that she was, “mine.” If it had just been something brewed from the heat of the moment. But, when I answered the phone, set it back on the nightstand, I swear to God I saw something in her eyes shift, like she had been bothered at the thought of me with someone else.

Or it would be shitty in general if I was seeing someone else.

I weighed telling her, every single, how I felt about her. I don’t know that if I told her I loved her it would change anything. I had all but done so, and she still was unmoving. She still had gone and found that faceless nobody in the crowd.

Today, I felt like maybe I should. Tell her.

As soon as she had left, someone knocked on my door. I didn’t think it was Daisy, considering Sam would be waking up soon and she needed to get back into bed. When I looked through the peephole, Adam was there, staring over his shoulder sort of strangely.

“Hey, dude,” I started as I opened the door, then turned to make my way over to the bed where my book bag was. I reached in for my notebook, continuing, “so, I’ve got a few good ideas rattling around-” probably a few too many about Daisy, “that I wanna show ya.”

He slowly entered the room, shutting the door softly behind him, “Yeah, uh...” he approached me sort of hesitantly, distant confusion in his pupils, “I think we...should talk about something first.” He didn’t seem too sure of himself and the words he was saying were cautious. So, my tone slowed, hardened “What-what’s up?”

He finally met my eye and I felt like a sword had been shoved down my throat, “I just talked to Daisy...out in the hallway.”

I set my book bag down, hands having been frozen around the straps like someone cursed me into the stoic, icy position. All I could think to say was, “Oh.”

Adam nodded half-heartedly, “Yeah. Oh. I... don’t know what to say, really. I knew you guys had been...like, it was obvious. To me and I think Max, at least. Sam is kinda clueless and, he and Ronnie are totally sleeping with each other.”

Well, that was obvious. So obvious that I could have snorted, but I was too focused on the wild realization that everyone basically knew. All of that sneaking around, trying to be secretive- well, it didn’t fucking matter. And it didn’t seem like it really mattered that much.

“Are you gonna, like, scold me or something?’ I sat on the edge of my bed, running a wary hand through my hair.

“No, I’m gonna tell you that you’re fucking stupid.”

“What?” I looked up from the ground, shock widening my eyes.

Adam finally softened his expression and chortled, though it was short before he was in on me again, “You’re stupid, Ollie. I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose. I think you’re just...Fiona fucked you up. And I’ve watched you slowly start to heal over these past few months. Daisy has everything to do with that. And...she fucking loves you, dude. She thinks the world of you. And you’ve both, I guess, been dancing this dance with each other, walking around the whole thing. I just told her, like- stop thinking less of yourselves. You both deserve something good. You’re both worthy of each other. So, stop being fucking stupid and just tell her.”

My face was hot. I clenched my hands together, knuckles turning white as all these rampant, loose feelings released in my chest, in my head. “She doesn’t love me.” Adam chuckled again, “That’s a bold fucking statement. She just told me herself how much she adores me.”

“Well, yeah, she likes me, that’s obvious,” I waved him off, “she wouldn’t be sleeping with me if she didn’t. But...I think I’ve made it clear so many times how much I want her. And she, just, doesn’t care. Or she turns away.”

“She’s scared!” Adam exclaimed, making me flinch just slightly. “Sorry,” he spoke quieter, like he had shocked himself with his tone of voice. “She’s scared, Ollie. She’s...she doesn’t know who she is. That’s why she came here. That’s why she pulls away, why she seems unsure.”

“Well, I know that,” I scoffed, “I know her better than anyone. You haven’t seen the way she...how she denies it. I know she denies it. She denies us- me.”

“Okay, tell me,” Adam nearly popped a hip at this, a sassy tone overtaking his authoritative one. “Tell me how she denies, what she says and does that makes you think she doesn’t want you. Tell me that she doesn’t love you.”

I thought, long and hard. I could've mentioned the very recent time when she had been dancing with another guy, at our concert, a prowling look in her eyes. Or, of the time when I was on the brink of telling her how I felt, then she pulled away. Or-

Wait.

Am I fucking stupid?

I’m so fucking stupid. I am the dumbest, stupidest idiotic idiot to have ever existed.

It was all right there, clearing up now like I was wearing new glasses. I had a new perspective- I had an unbiased, outsider’s view of the world I had been suffocating in. And Adam’s view was- a breath of fresh air.

I was so obviously the one turning away from her.

From the beginning, I’d been denying her, us, for fear that she wouldn’t want me that way. For fear that someone would find out, for fear that I might die if she ever looked away from me. And I’ve been covering it up with the excuse that I was broken, or hurting, or-or...worthless.

I knew differently. I’d known it differently for a while now but had been unable to act upon this rationality. I was too emotional, too, in my head. And that made me seem manipulative, and asshole-ish, and- fucking stupid.

Adam watched me carefully, watched me as I processed these past few months. My eyes were narrowed, confused, though they widened as the information unfolded in my mind, as the notches clicked together.

“You’re…right.”

Instead of worrying myself with the evidence that she, too, was afraid, I felt my head flood with memories, as tangent on my skin as the cool air of my hotel room. Memories of her devotion, her promise, her love. Memories of us in the stale morning, sharing stories of her mother and that little apartment back in America. Memories of us on the roof, atop the world, atop the feeling, a private sanctuary where even just the flash of her eyes should have told me everything that I needed to know. I was going to tell her I felt the same. I was going to pull her up to the roof, one of our most sacred secrets, and pour everything out onto the barren concrete between us. And I knew she would say that she loved me, too.

It was delicate and I would have to handle it as such. Any sudden movement, and we’d be falling apart, all over again.

But, then Max was bombarding my hotel room, spewing some nonsense about Daisy and Ronnie getting tattoos. He was dragging us to Sam’s hotel room. I was practicing the lines in my head, over and over, a prayer.

Daisy was looking at me with these doe-innocent eyes, like she, too, was praying to some old god. Altering herself for a breath that he may resurrect what was dying between us even now.

I found more words, new words- lyrics, pummeling my skull in wondrous discovery. It was right there- everything was- My phone wouldn’t fucking stop ringing and I thought that I might explode into atoms. I ignored the call, watching as Daisy’s face fell each and every time that it did. She well and truly thought that I was seeing someone else.

Enough was enough.

I took a step towards her, fully intent on putting a rest to the strangeness and awakening what was already there. But, then my phone rang again.

And Sam began making some joke about Fiona calling me, a knowing, devious smirk on his features. He didn’t know- how could he know? I couldn’t be upset with him, but I wanted to strangle him into the carpet.

But I couldn’t focus on that anger for too long-

Because Daisy was leaving like we both always left, one too many times, in one too many silent glares of this something that we just may never get right.

The delicate threads of us bent and snapped.

[themoonitselff]

HEAR ME OUT, a Modern Mizu x Reader AU, But the reader is a famous singer? Sorry this is a little bit cheesy and idk what Mizu would be in this AU all i got is that the reader is a singer. I got this idea because i am a huge Swiftie and a huge Mizu worshipper soo lol

I got you, bestie. I like Taylor Swift too, and this request just makes my Vigilante Shit headcannons more canon. I ALREADY SAID IT, BUT I'LL DO IT AGAIN. (Don't worry I'll make it large and full of details just for you<3)

Modern! Mizu × Singer! Reader

Warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, I guess. Mizu being a cutie patootie with you.

Summary: You wrote a song for Mizu, thinking about her last relationship with the ex-principal of your University.

PD: This is headcannons+mini-fanfic, I'll do my best. <3 (let's pretend that I'm not a fan of Reputation and Midnight)

Let's start really slow before we get to the juicy point(you can scroll to the end if you don't want to read aaall of this). Mizu would be studying Civil/Mechanical Engineering (don't know how to say it in English). And the University she's in is one of the best of the country, so the campus would be huge, and it would have a lot of buildings and areas, she does the mobthly payment on her own, and she also has a little help on her dad when she's too busy with her part time job.

She has an amazing music taste, The Weeknd, Lana Del Rey, Laufey, she listens to Pop, Rock, Alternatives and ofc Arctic Monkeys. She also listens to you, but only the popular ones, since you're not like a big deal for her. (SHE REALLY LIKES YOU IN SECRET)

But then, she heard that you were moving to this state just to finish your career since you're a bit busy with your musical career. She doesn't get surprised, she doesn't believe it, her reaction is just like “Oh really? That's amazing.” with sarcasm on it

It was lunch time, Mizu was eating peacefully while hearing all of the news and updates Ringo was telling her of his day, something casual, she had to adapt to his common behavior. They were on a bench, looking at the football game they had in front.

“And the teacher was sooo mad because this girl got late, and they started arguing, and— Oh! Did you heard that (y/n) is gonna study here? I'm so excited to know her! I love her music, and she's so beautiful, and...” Ringo couldn't stop talking about you, which made Mizu roll her eyes as she finishes her coffee.

“Okay, I get it Ringo.” She said, her face was neutral, not believing it.

“I think tomorrow is when she's arriving, do you think she's like in the photos?” He blushed, slightly.

“Uhm..” Mizu imagined the celebrity getting off her car and walking inside the building, then getting drowned and breaked into pieces by the fans and other people that just know her because of her looks. “If she doesn't end dead, maybe.”

The same night, she stalked your account, your biography in Wikipedia and EVERYTHING, basically.. She realized that Ringo wasn't lying, it was on the news, everyone knew it. That's when her heart went on the floor because if you were gonna transfer into this University, it meant: a massive crowd of people wanting to get inside. “Ewww, people” She thought.

It didn't looked like, but she was kickin' her feet and giggling of excitement, the fact that you would be near to her, makes her sick.

The next day, she did what she didn't do every day. She brushed her hair, took a bath after 6 days of focusing on studying, put on the best hoodie she got from Akemi, her favorite pair of shoes, everything. But acted like nothing happened, like she wasn't screaming inside to see you.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Taigen asked, as he looked at Mizu's persona, who was really... Pretty, not like other days.

“Like what?” She replied, her eyes were looking for you in the University alley's, but you were not there.

“Like you're gonna fuck with someone.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Then she chopped his bangs off.

She did know what Taigen was talking about.

The night came and everyone was in their dorms, in the whole day, the only thing that people was talking about was you. It made her sick, like, c'mon you're just a singer, what's the matter?

Then, she hears someone knocking her door, she gets up from the couch and goes to open it, her lazy was all on her body

“Wha-?” She didn't finished, her jaw falled onto the floor, surprised.

It was you. (Y/n) the Music Industry. Her heartbeat went fast, her hands started trembling and flickering, her beautiful blue eyes opened like plates, it was impossible.

“Hello! They told me this is my dorm, and I have to share it with.. You. ” You showed the card and the directions, gently, with a sweet smile on your face. “Your name is Mizu, right?”

Mizu was still in shock, but recovered fast, she went to her natural face again and nodded. “Yes, what's yours?”

“(y/n), nice to meet you!” You took your bags and entered with confidence. “Uhm- I thought you would scream and go wild, but happily you did not.. So, if you don't know, I'm a Popstar, and I work with music, so I hope it doesn't disturb you.”

Mizu just closed the door, slowly, watching you get inside and getting comfortable, her mouth slightly opened. “No.. not at all.”

Now that you're roommates, she has to deal with Ringo and Akemi fangirling about you all the time and asking Mizu if they can take pictures with you. It pisses her off because you're just a human... And because she feels like she's the only one that can do that(possesive and protective)

She's normal about it on the outside, but fangirls too in the inside. Not like you imagined.

As the times goes on, she introduces you to her friend group (Akemi, Ringo, and the fool of Taigen)

They're nice to you and you always hangout together, it's like a dream come true to Ringo, that is like a bodyguard to you, he's always protecting you and making sure you're okay... And asks you to sign his albums and photocards and the whole merchandising.

You start getting more connected with Mizu, and shes now the only one who knows all of your exes, your future albums, your songs and why you wrote them, it's like Mizu and you are besties. Best friends.

Mizu didn't knew when, but she was falling in love with you.

She loved your eyes, your body, your voice, she loves when she hears your voice echoing in your room, she loves hearing you okay the guitar, she loves the fact that she's so important to you, she loves how shy you get with your fans, she loves you. She does.

And you do too. You love how good she is with you, you love that she sees you as a person and not as a singer. You love her eyes, you love her silence, you love cuddling with her, you love how she priories you over everything. She's the best for you.

One day, she told you about this guy that was her fiance, two years ago, He was the Principal of the University but now was just the teacher of Veterinary medicine. How dumb.

You were mad. You could not believe what he put her through. You were in her bed, hugging her as she was on her knees in front of you, crying and getting vulnerable with you, for the first time ever, her eyes were crystalized in tears, her nose was reddish and her face was so warm and weak, your fingers were cleaning her tears rolling through her cheeks, while you saw her lips moving and telling you everything.

It was a mix of “Omg Mizu is so sexy when she cries” and “I want to kill that motherfucker” vibes.

You could do nothing about it... But making a song.

You worked day and night, wrote the lyrics, made the rythm, you did everything just to make it sound sexy but angry at the same time, like the vibes you felt when comforting her. Because let's be honest, she's too good for a man, she needs something better.

She needs a woman.

When you got summer vacations, you published the song, and made a concert in a Stadium.

That day was a bit stressful, there was TOO MUCH people in the campus, your suit was too tight, your make up felt heavy, but you were not leaving this.

You sang a few songs before the main could be presented, Mizu was in the VIP zone with her friends, she was excited to be there, to admire you.

“Picture me, thick as thieves with your ex-wife.” You cooed, you left hand was on a chair and the other holding the mic, your boot tracing an oval in the floor, and the flashes were pointing at you, it was your peak.

“And she looks so pretty. ” Your body turned a bit at the side, your leg stumped so hard on the chair anyone could hear it “Driving in your Benz.”

“Lately she's been dressing for revenge.” Then, your free hand passed through your body from your chest to your mount venus, your expression was the same of an orgasm, you let out a little moan, seductively, the public went crazy, screaming and getting wild.

From mizu's pov, when you released the new album, she listened to all of the songs, and played them on streaming apps everytime she could.

When she heard this one, she immediately downloaded it, it became her favorite, she never told you, but she was loving it.

But, listening close to the lyrics she realized You were talking about her and what she told you.

She would be shock first, then a bit angry because you took her situation just to make money, to see it like “Omg so (y/n) made this for me”

She felt harder for you.

When she was watching you at the stage, she couldn't stop feeling a warm spot on her core, her cheeks getting hot and her lip getting bitten.

You looked really good in that suit, it made you look sensual.

After the show, Mizu went on backstage and hugged you so hard, then, you both looked into each other's eyes, connecting souls, Mizu was so focused on you, your body, your face, your escense. She was honestly in love with the idea of you.

Relationship Headcannons.

When she confesses to you, she does it in a casual moment.

Just imagine the two of you super cozy in the couch, watching a movie, then, you make visual contact, and then kiss.

She wouldn't say “Im in love with you”. But she'd let you know, cause' when you know, you know.

She would give you a bouquet of flowers with a “I want to be your girlfriend” note. When you receive it, you'll nod at her and kiss her passionately, your heart going faster.

Since then, you wouldn't use your bedroom to sleep anymore, you would sleep with her every night, and every night is kissing and cuddling, if not, hugging and laughing, if not, just smiling at you, but Mizu is not letting you go anywhere.

She's too obsessive with you, to the point she would know when do you poop and when you get hungry.

Your first dates are private and in public just holding hands.

When you make it official, you let a paparazzi take a picture of you sitting in Mizu's legs while kissing, her hand on your ass.

Or maybe, it would be like the Kylie Kenner and Travis photo, where you're kissing at a party or sum place and Mizu realizes someone's taking a picture, so she does the middle finger thing.

Anyways, your relationship is hugely healthy, she's always working on making you feel relaxed and fine.

She also learns how to play guitar just to help you with your songs (like in Enchanted from Taylor Swift or Brooklyn Baby from LDR)

She's too private when it comes to arguments and problems. She's not letting anyone in your relationship, she always solve it when you're home.

She's always marking territory, with a hand on your waist or holding your hand. If she feels jealous she'll kiss you right there.

Mizu is the type of girlfriend that loves to talk to you with the eyes since she's bad at talking, be prepared for that.

Sometimes she will not be in the best mood. Mizu can avoid you for days and getting more distant if you insist on asking her why. She needs her space too.

If you're patient and stay by her side without being too dependient, you'll have her head over heels.

Always supporting you on the stage.

Always taking care of you and protecting you.

Always loving you.

[lilpixielixie]

CHAPTER THREE: Delicate | hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

Delicate | hwang hyunjin x fem! reader

"This ain't for the best, my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me"

- Delicate, Taylor Swift

Summary: Moving to Seul wasn't something that Selene expected to do, but her broken heart and tired soul were craving for peace. She didn't even think too much about it: she simply saw an opportunity that would let her hide from the media and Hollywood for some time and took it. However, she will have to make a decision by the end of the year and she hopes that, when the time comes, the same world that was hating on her right now would forget everything. Maybe she wasn't meant to be an actress, but she was sure she wasn't meant to be loved. At least, that was what she thought before meeting an idol who wasn't treating her like a broken and pitiful person.

Words: 2K

Genre: actress!reader x idol!hyunjin, SLOW BURN, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut (minors dni)

Warning: mention of Hyunjin's hiatus

Author's note: Hi everyone! I know it's been another month, but I've been really busy with work and lots of other stuff I've been doing that maybe one day I will tell you about. Also, mainly they speak english with Selene, when they speak korean I will change font so you can understand the difference! Enjoy the chapter!

Series Masterlis | Selene Profile

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“You’re really rocking this shorthair agenda” Sunoo said while making a weird hand gesture. 

Selene cringed.

“For the love of God, Sunoo please stop and go back to practice with the others” 

“I’m being supportive of our amazing and beautiful choreographer!!!” he replied, outraged.

Sunghoon snorted from the floor where he was stretching “Seeing your performance lately, you should really practice instead of chit chatting”

Sunoo shot him a glance and huffed “Do you wake up every morning being this insufferable? Was there once you were nice?”

“Children, no fighting in the practice room” Selene warned both the boys “go back to warm up, I want to run the whole performance of tamed-dashed at least five times” 

“FIVE?!” Jake yelled from the other side of the room. He was wearing a baggy brown hoodie which made him look like a teddy bear ready to hug and cheer up every single person in the room. Right next to him there was Jay who was helping the other stretch and he was also a victim of his sudden yell: he flinched and started to rub his ears murmuring what Selene thought were curses in english. 

The girl was unimpressed because she was used to their antics by that time. In fact, she raised an eyebrow as if she was questioning his whining. 

“You have to be perfect and go beyond the standard you set with your last comeback” 

“You just like to torture us at this point” Nikki whined even though he was the most diligent out of all the seven boys when it came to dance. Moreover, he didn’t really mind practicing the same dance several times because he was a perfectionist just like her and this little resemblance made him happy. 

Selene was sort of his idol: the kind of adoration he’d been expressing towards their new choreographer since they were introduced was crossing a thin line between admiration and worshiping a god. For this very reason, the others would often joke about how Selene was the only god Nikki believed in. She found herself often in this situation and even though at the beginning it made her laugh, now it was starting to get annoying. However, this had nothing to do with Nikki or the boys because the blonde girl knew it was her low self-esteem talking. She’d never understood the blind admiration certain people felt towards her and the more it happened the more she got annoyed and frustrated with the situation. 

If she was such an amazing actress, she would be still acting instead of being there in Seul hiding from the cameras and her fans. 

If she was the amazing dancer Nikki talked about with sparkling eyes full of admiration and respect, she would be still having a dancing career.

If her relationship was really the most perfect of all, it wouldn’t have ended like this. 

However, here she was acting like a criminal who is waiting for all her charges to disappear into thin air. The only difference between a criminal and herself was that a lawyer wouldn’t be enough to bring her out from the mountain of crap she was being crushed under.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder that brought her back to reality. The choreographer turned her head towards the younger boy who was smiling at her with his little dimple out. 

“Are you ok? You were a bit anxious this morning” Jungwon asked with a concerned tone. Selene looked down feeling guilty. 

“I…I think I screwed up” she admitted in one breath. Jungwon frowned because he was confused by her sudden vulgar choice of words and whatever she meant by that. 

“Someone recognized me last night” 

“OH MY GOD, WHO?” Sunoo jumped into her view, eager to know. On the other side, Jungwon shot him a disappointed glance. 

“Don’t you see she’s upset?”

“She shouldn’t” 

“Well, but no one is supposed to know I’m here” she murmured “the company was very clear about it”

“Then, screw the company” Sunoo said without hesitation. Both Selene and Jungwon didn’t react, too used to this kind of reaction every time this topic came up. 

“Selene, you can’t recluse yourself into your apartment when you’re not working with us” Jungwon said matter-of-factly “and the fact that someone might have recognized you doesn’t mean they know everything”

“Yeah, you have to live blondie” 

“Sunoo”

“It’s Sunoo-hyung for you” 

Jungwon rolled his eyes and muttered something along the line “cannot stand him anymore”

On the other hand, Selene was biting her lips uncomfortably “But, what if…they start to question my sudden appearance here? Moreover, I was at the convenience store near my apartment that is near the company”

“That is irrelevant, really, the majority tend to mind their own business” Jungwon reassured her while gently rubbing her shoulder to ease a bit of tension. 

“So…who was it?” Sunoo asked again, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hyunjin” Selene replied “from Stray Kids”

Both the guys looked at her and replied with a little “oh” and because of this weird ration Selene started to panic. 

“I-is it that bad? What? Hyunjin is like a bad person or-”

“No no no, sorry, we didn’t mean like that” Jungwon jumped to reassure her again while still having a weird expression “It’s just that-”

“He was literally in your same situation not until some days ago, no one in the industry has seen him in months” the oldest of the two mumbled “from what we know, not even his members had seen him for weeks”

“Jake became friends with Chan and Felix” Jungwon said to Selene even though she still had to ask how they knew. 

After that, the blonde girl nodded and she started to think about last night and how he looked all covered up.

“How is he? Do you know him?” 

Jungwon raised an eyebrow questioning Selene's sudden interest without calling her out directly; however, Sunoo looked delighted by it and gave her a big “I know where this is going” smile.

“Oh oh” Sunoo’s eyes sparkled full of interest “someone got our girl attention”

Suddenly, the other members who weren’t involved in the conversation appeared as those magic words sinked into everyone’s mind. 

“Oh my god, you like someone?” Jake asked overexcited

“I KNEW IT! I told you it was a matter of time!” Jay’s voice sounded clear - Selene couldn’t understand who he was talking to - among the chaos Sunoo created. All of the members but Jungwon (he was rubbing his temples done) started to talk and ask questions to their young choreographer because they were eager to know some news. This reaction kind of warmed Selene’s heart because from day one these boys have been nothing but kind and supportive with her, treating her as a normal human being and they’ve never made her feel uncomfortable or left out. However, she was also annoyed. 

“STOP! ALL OF YOU, SILENCE!” she yelled so that everyone could hear her over all of that noise. The group shut up and waited for their choreographer to continue. 

“I don’t like anyone, I just wanted to know how a certain idol I ran into last night is, drop it. If you’re not gonna answer me, go back to practice tamed-dashed ten times; or we can have another five minutes of break”

“Man, she got mad…ten times now!” Jake whispered-yelled into Jay’s ear who wanted to punch him in the face.

“Which idol?” Sunghoon asked “Was he better looking than me?”

“Well” Sunoo replied in english at Selene’s place “you might wanna sit dude, because this is a good one”

“Did he just dude me?!” 

The blonde girl couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out the answer “It was Hyunjin from Stray kids” she was met with silence “is he a good person or not? Because both time you hadn’t got a good reaction”

“No it’s just…” Jay started to talk but didn’t finish his sentence, probably because he didn’t know how to explain it. 

“We’re just surprised” Heeseung said “seeing what happened with him we’re still surprised he came back; also you’re the first person that has seen him since his come back some days ago”

“But he’s great” intervened Nikki “I mean, none of us had really any kind of relationship with him, but from what Chan, Felix and also Jeongin said about him and those little interaction we had he seems good”

“Everybody before that scandal talked really good about him” Heeseung nodded along with the others. 

“And now?” Selene asked.

Everyone looked at each other before Jungwon said “No one was allowed to talk about him anymore, he just came back unexpectedly so…for now, the majority will pretend to be nice in front of him while talking shit at his back, and the rest will just try to treat him as nothing happened”

Selene looked at all of them, then she smiled bitterly “It looks like the story is always repeating itself”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hyunjin didn’t tell anyone about his encounter with Selene the other night, but he kind of hoped to see her again. He didn’t really know what came into him, but he just wanted to talk a bit with her and see if she was doing ok. Considering the fact they’ve never met before last night, this wish was weird and pretty out of the blue, but it had to do with Hyunjin’s eternal empathy. While he was in hiatus - but also before that - he kept himself informed about whatever happened to Selene, one of the most famous and loved western actresses of the last four years, because firstly he was a fan of the movies and secondly he liked her as a person. When she disappeared around the same time he went on hiatus he thought it was pretty ironic and started to wonder what she was going through; if she was having the same thoughts as him; if she was also finding it hard staying hidden from the world’s spotlight just like himself. 

Due to that sudden encounter in that particular convenience store, he decided to test his luck and go back there. Considering the fact that Selene was one of Enhypen’s new choreographers, she must have been busy until pretty late into the night, so Hyunjin went to the convenience store a bit after midnight. He took his time going around the aisles and looking through the food he could buy when the door opened. He briefly glanced at the door and he saw the same feminine figure all covered up going straight to the ice cream section. 

Then, as if he was possessed by someone definitely more confident than his usual awkward off-stage self, he walked towards her. On the other side, Selene was totally unaware of the man approaching her, too busy choosing among the ice cream flavors. At some point, she heard a gentle “hey” behind her which made her hand pause mid air while taking the cookie dough flavored ice cream, then she felt the mysterious guy moving behind her. She saw a hand coming into her view and picking up the ice cream she wanted and putting it into her hand. In that moment, she quickly studied that hand and, when she saw two particular rings adorning it, she recognized him. She took the cookie dough flavored ice cream and turned around meeting a pair of brown gentle eyes which were turning lightly into two crescent moons. 

“Hi there” Hyunjin said in english while scratching the back of his neck nervously “what about we have something to eat together here?” he shook the cup of instant ramen he was holding. 

“I…”

“This convenience store is usually empty at this hour, I used to come here a lot some months ago” Hyunjin continued in a rush of confidence “there are those sits right there pretty hidden from the outsiders, that’s why I like this place” 

The girl in front of him looked like a spooked cat, but against all of his expectations she nodded while fixing her face mask. 

“Ok, Hyunjin”

And when he heard his name coming from her mouth - he was surprised she even knew him - he realized he liked the way her accent curled around the syllables more than he thought he would.

© lilpixielixie all rights reserved | do not copy, repost or translate this fic.

[uramilf]

Day Ten - Ugly Sweater Party

It hadn’t snowed any more by the next morning and had definitely warmed up a little, so Matty’s house was no longer completely engulfed, and Mayhem could run around outside without sinking into the snow. Y/N sat in the living room with a hot chocolate, Love Actually playing on the TV. Matty walked in holding a paper gift bag and snuck up behind her to surprise her with a kiss on the neck. She jumped and squealed with laughter when his stubble tickled her skin. “Stop! I’m gonna spill this all over your sofa!” “Fine, fine,” Matty said, taking her cup and setting it on the table before throwing himself onto the sofa, laying his head down in her lap.

“I got us something,” he said, pointing to the paper bag which was now on the floor. “Ooh. Early Christmas presents?” “Sure, you could call it that,” Matty laughed. Y/N picked up the bag and looked inside before pulling out two Christmas jumpers, bright red with a Christmas tree in the middle. “You bought us matching jumpers?” she cried. “I love them!” “Seriously? I bought them as a joke cause I thought they were kinda ugly.” Matty raised his head with a grin on his face, sitting up to look at her. “Matty! They’re not ugly, they’re cute!” “They light up too,” he said, pressing a little button sewed into the hem of one of the jumpers. Some of the lights on the Christmas tree were real LEDs and started twinkling with bright colours. He watched as her eyes lit up too.

Y/N wasted no time in pulling her jumper on over her t-shirt, beaming at Matty. “Put yours on!” He rolled his eyes but pulled off his hoodie and put the jumper on. “Happy now?” he asked, kissing her cheek. “Very.”

—————

“Babe, I’m not walking the dog in it.” “Please! You bought it, you can’t turn around and say you’re not gonna wear it!” Matty groaned. “It’s Christmas. I can’t say no to you.” “You can’t say no to me anyway,” Y/N smirked. “True. Very true.” He pulled her in by her waist and placed a kiss on her lips, before decorating her face with smaller ones in every spot he could. “Mayhem’s wearing his coat, look,” Y/N sat down on the sofa beside the dog and started petting him as he nuzzled his face into her neck. He had been dressed in one of those dog coats she always saw in Tesco in the winter time, something she thought he definitely needed to keep him warm on snowy walks.

They walked to the nearest park and let Mayhem run around a little, throwing sticks for him and cuddling up on a bench laughing together while they watched him try to carry an entire tree branch cluelessly. They were even approached by a couple of girls asking for photos with Matty (a first for Y/N as they hadn’t really been out in public much together, only back and forwards to each others houses). She had initially tried to distance herself from Matty on the bench and play with Mayhem, but he didn’t seem to care at all about people knowing he was in a relationship. He held her hand while he talked to his fans and even asked her to be in the pictures, although she declined shyly.

The walk home was quiet; they held hands and enjoyed each other’s company while Y/N’s head raced with thoughts of the world knowing about her. She knew it was only a matter of time before she started appearing in paparazzi pictures and gossip magazines, but it was all happening so quickly. “Are you worried about people seeing us together?” Matty broke the silence, almost reading her mind. “I know I don’t have the best reputation, but…” “No! No, baby, that’s not it. I’m just nervous that your fans won’t like me, I suppose.” “What? Of course they will! And even if they don’t, it doesn’t matter. People who like my music have all of my respect and gratitude, but the only one who gets a say in who I date is me. And I love you, no matter what.” Y/N smiled and kissed the back of his hand. “Thank you, baby. I love you.”

—————

“So…I’m on Twitter,” Y/N yawned later that night. “Huh?” Matty looked up from his book. “One of the girls we met earlier posted about how you were out with me earlier. But don’t worry, it was really nice. Look.” She handed Matty her laptop and he read the post silently.

“Guys, I met Matty Healy today!! He was so sweet, and his girlfriend was there too! She’s super pretty and really nice but she didn’t wanna be in the photos, I’m not sure who she is but they’re so cute together.”

Matty grinned. “See? I knew people would love you.” “Well, if your fans still like you after seeing pictures of you in that jumper, they must me great people. “What? You said it was cute!” “It is baby, I’m sorry,” Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

[urszn]

<— previous masterlist next —>

DOUBLE TAKE — p.sh

✩୧ ‧₊˚ ⋆ ࣪. ₊ ˚ 01. a note ? written + smau

warnings — cheating

sunghoon sighed staring up at the ceiling feeling his phone buzzing with notifications from twitter

you’re an idiot park sunghoon.

he slowly sat up and chuckled to himself “i’m an idiot, right?” he says to the dog sitting at the edge of his bed who tilted its head before climbing onto the boys lap, he groans as he hears his phone drop to the bottom of his bed

he slowly looked under seeing all his skating trophies and old skates… and a note ?

TAKE (ONE) — june 1st 2019

“so you’re going to believe an anonymous person more than me?!”

sunghoon scoffed “there’s a video y/n, what else do you want me to think?!” she stayed quiet, tears already rolling down her face while he tried to stay composed feeling his eyes water

“i promise i didn’t” she walked closer to him “and i know that the video looks like it’s me but i promise, it’s really not me hoon” he sat down on the edge of her bed finally letting the tears flow down his face

“how long?” “what-“

“how long has this been going on?” she sits down next to him putting her hand on his shoulder “hoon-“

“don’t call me that” he says shoving her hand away from him

he chuckles to himself “you know what, we’re done i’ll send you you’re stuff back tomorrow” he said standing up going toward her bedroom door

“sunghoon im sorry” was the last thing he heard before he shut the door.

TAKE ONE — june 2nd 2019

sunghoon knew their relationship was fucked but he didn’t want it to be, he regretted kissing miyeon that same night he broke up with her

but he didn’t want to be seen as the poor guy who got cheated on by his girlfriend

the whole day was a hell, everyone just stared at him in the halls, whispering to each other and trying to figure out who actually cheated

“i bet you he did and just used y/n” “poor hoonie” “she’s always gave me bitchy vibes” “he’s an asshole”

he sat down at his desk avoiding eye contact with people only glancing up to look at the clock

he looked over next to him looking at the empty seat of his now ex girlfriend, thank god this is my last class he thought to himself

“park sunghoon” the teacher called “yes?” “take this to your girlfriends house since she’s not here today, if you can?” he felt all eyes on him at that moment, watching to see what he would say.

— after school

fuck my life he whispers walking up to her mailbox placing the note there carefully

he slightly looked up to look at the window of her room, the lights were completely turned off but he could see the teddy bears she left near the windows — but the pink one he bought her when he first asked her out wasn’t there anymore

he felt like crying again suck it up he repeats, slowly walking away from her house for the last time in a while

he groaned as he walked up to his front door looking down at the box full with his hoodies and gifts he had gotten her, the pink teddy bear

he grabbed the box taking it up to his room not bothering to check if his parents were home

he sat it down on his bed looking through it

he tried to make scenarios where she possibly didn’t cheat and where they were still together going on two years but he couldn’t.

he couldn’t get that picture of his first love kissing somebody else that wasn’t him

for old sunghoon and y/n in red marker was plastered to a envelope

he slowly opened it up seeing a picture with a three page letter from y/n…

“SUNGHOON COME EAT!” he heard his mom yell from downstairs, he quickly shoved it away going downstairs.

the note was gone, gone for a while but he would come to find it again years later.

synopsis — in which sunghoon is the most popular guy in school and everyone is in awe of him, including you, well you were until he broke your heart by cheating — after two years of not seeing each other you transfer back to decelis high but this time better than ever…and sunghoon ? he needs to get his reputation back up and you’re the only way to get him back on top. of course theres a problem, your new boyfriend.

note — SOOOO… hehe

tags — @moonluna12 @qimmylol @indelicate-macalino @destinylightlove42 @pluviophilefangirl @nobodyshallenter @loves0ft @annoyingbitch83 @yutavrs @adajoemaya @sd211 @jjulliette @hoonfever @kim-liv @yenqa @hyeki @starryunho @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @dimplewonie @yejilyz @lov3niki (please note that some people can not be tagged)

[purrple-bat]

Ough I'm still thinking about this, I absolutely love Doll and Uzi being sisters and that is giving me lots of ideas, hope you don't mind OP

It's always different from person to person but always thought of Yeva and her husband dying first before Nori 'does'. So my head immediately goes to Doll being still so shocked and terrified until Uzi is the one to reach out and hold and comfort her. May not know the pain but Yeva was also like a mother to her. (Maybe idea, Yeva is 'mom', Nori is 'mama') Uzi is not the best at all but she does her most and it means a lot to Doll when no one else does. (Nova would be with Nori, so they're safe and getting support there)

Later on, when it's Nori's turn, it really really hurts Uzi. Even more so as if she even tried to get support from Khan, she gets none as he distance himself from who should be his 3 child.. but Uzi got to stay strong, Nova is also affected by it and so I could see her comfort them, as Doll now comfort the both of them.

Honestly having a sister by her side and another who looks up to her, Doll would get a lot more support she needs to be 'more stable'. Maybe since Khan is doing nothing, the Three of them moves together. Doll and Uzi are messy in their own ways but for Nova I'm sure they would have more motivation to keep moving, to clean and take care of one another. Not only that, but when the solver comes, I'm sure Uzi's no nonsense would spot something different in Doll and get her to spill out what is happening and helping her control herself.

On the other side, Uzi not being completely alone could help her as well. Sure, she's not extroverted but at least she would have someone to listen to her without judgement. Heck, Doll would for sure grab Uzi by the hoodie and force her to actually do things she should do, like talking to some people and helping Uzi watch her own angsty anger issues so she doesn't snap at people as easily.

Now comes school which shows how different Uzi and Doll can be. I could actually see Uzi telling Doll to not defend her. Like, Uzi fearing that her own reputation would lead to Doll suffering them same.. and maybe she tells Doll that if not to do it for herself, than to do it for Nova. Because when Nova gets of age to go to their school, having Doll high up like the social butterfly she is, would let her be able to protect Nova from any bullying or harshness Uzi is suffering.

Tho I'm sure Doll would have her limits. Especially if someone said to Uzi like 'maybe her mom killed herself because of her' which would lead to Doll not being afraid to slam the head of whoever said that into the wall and make sure they remember that Nori was her mother as well.

I should be asleep ngl. I like them what can I say :3

NEW OC!! A FANKID, EVEN!!! Nova Doorman <3 (Any/All)

They're the main focus of an AU I'm making (currently nameless)! The basic concept is what if Nori and Yeva had a kid together, along with still having Uzi and Doll. (Khan and Yeva's husband are still in this AU and are still Uzi's and Doll's dads respectively)

I have been thinking about this AU a lot recently, and I have so many ideas for it, so, uh, have fun with my autism! You'll be seeing a lot of it!

Alt ref and close-ups under the cut

I love them, your honor

[anime-grimmy-art]

What do you do when there’s not much to an AU? You make up your own stuff, ofc. And as is per usual when I make Character Designs, I make up a shit ton of lore too.

The ramblings under the cut, but what I’m really interested in, is what you guys think. Do you guys have any headcanons/ideas for this AU? Let me hear them! Also, if you don’t wanna read on tumblr, here’s the Google Docs link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/151yshHxnb_--P6eMKkwkI2dee9xC_Llb/view?usp=sharing

Before I get into the characters’ roles, here’s some general facts and backstory of their town:

- Basically, it’s Undertale meets Harvest Moon / Stardew Valley. Well, kinda. I at least used that approach for coming up for the jobs for the characters. You know, how there’s always a general store, a doctor, a smithy, etc.

- The usual story of a HM game is that you come to a town that’s way past its glory days and you, as the player/farmer, help them get back to that. The “backstory” of the town is that that already kinda happened. I’ll get into it more in the character description, but basically when Asgore was still mayor, the town got really popular. Then yadda yadda, a certain tragedy happened, two kids died, and the town suddenly got very bad publicity. There was a lot of stuff going on back then, bad reputation being spread and also a lot of law stuff, cos, you know, supposed child murder ‘n all, so Asgore made the decision to shut off the town to ppl from outside. This was in the interest of most monsters living there, because as fun as it is to have a lot of people coming there, most just wanted to live a quiet life. Not everyone was happy with that though, so many moved away from town and some others are trying to get the town back on its feet. But more on that later.

On to the characters:

I’m just gonna start with the skelebros, cos it’s their fault in the first place I got so invested.

Basically, they are what the player is in hm/sdv. They just showed up one day, took over the abandoned farmhouse and began their life there. The two came to town way after it was “closed” and since then a new mayor has opened the possibility for new residents to move in. Their farm helps the economy of the town a lot and the mayor, like usually in hm games, is trying to use that to make the town more known again. The skelebros aren’t really working towards that goal however.

So, now a bit more detail on them individually.

Papyrus:

- The design is mostly based on what’s “canon” in this au.

- He works mostly on the fields and is in charge of the crops. Their fields aren’t spectacularly big, but still big enough to plant a few dozen rows of veggies. 

- Paps also helps out a lot in town when he has the time. He helps Asgore with his plants, he goes fishing with Undyne, helps Toriel carry crates around and so on. This is inspired by the part-time job mechanic in HM ToT.

- Unbelievably, in this AU Pap is not an absolutely awful cook. Since he helps out at Muffet’s and Grillby’s a lot, they tend to show him some tricks to cooking. Even though Pap’s not a big fan of the greasy or overly sweet cooking those two do, he picks up a lot.

Sans:

- Again, design mostly based on the “canon” look. Maybe a bit more baggy.

- This is finally an AU this dude gets to rest. Since there are no resets and he doesn’t have to see his bro die again and again, for once in his life, he’s not a sad ball of depression. He’s just a chill and lazy dude that loves to make puns. Though, since he’s not too experienced with the feelings of loss, helplessness or grieving, he still tends to hide behind puns and fakes smiles if he does feel bad.

- Sans is in charge of the animals on the farm. Papyrus begrudgingly gave him that role since Pap’s loud demeanour and hectic movements usually scare the animals. Sans’ relaxed attitude draws the animals to him naturally and even if Pap mostly finds him sleep against a tree, in a stack of hay or on one of the sheep, the animals are always fed, healthy and relaxed, so Sans seems to be doing his job.

- Sans always has a small chic sit inside his hoodie or hat. Is it always the same one? Who knows, maybe.

- Sans also, somehow, can produce eggs out of thin air. Grab into his hoodie pocket, in his pants pocket, in his hat, in his slipper, there’s suddenly always an egg there. On good days he can even make butter or cheese appear. 

Gaster:

- He’s literally just a scarecrow in this. Though, if you ask any of the bros why they designed their scarecrow that way, they won’t have an answer.

Frisk&Toriel:

- Frisk is mostly based on what I wore myself as a kid in summer. Just a loose shirt with a cappy. Toriel basically has her ut gown, just with an apron on top.

- Frisk just appeared outside the “magical” forest one day. Napstablook and his cousin found them and brought them to Toriel, who has been taking care of them since.

- Toriel runs the general store in town, but also often takes care of the few kids that still live there.

- Frisk usually helps out in Toriels store, plays with the other kids or sits around at Asgore’s. They’re notorious for nabbing small snacks, mostly from Asgore’s plants. You’ll always find them munching on something. 

- Frisk was in town before the skelebros. Since they’d moved in, Frisk often went to spy on their farm. After a small incident with angry chicken, Frisk got to know the two better and now they see them as something between brothers and uncles.

- But Frisk honestly gets along with everyone. Just like in UT, they’ve not only been adopted by Toriel but literally everyone.

- Toriel and Asgore’s relationship is not as bad as in the main game, since, you know, Asgore didn’t kill literal children, but there’s still tension between them. Back when Asriel and Chara died and the whole thing with the bad rep for the town began, Toriel felt betrayed by Asgore focusing more on the town than giving their deceased kids the grieving they deserved. They’re not divorced, but Toriel still moved out and said needed space to think. Now that Frisk is in the picture though, the both of them are slowly coming to even ground and may even be able to talk things out and clear up the uncertainty of their decisions.

Asgore:

-Asgore has his UT Ending / Deltarune clothes, just with a gardener’s belt.

- He’s the previous mayor of the town, but after all the crap that happened, he stepped down from the position. Now he has his own little shop and sells seeds, saplings, homegrown veggies and fertilizer. So, basically what e.g. the Marimba Farm is in HM AP

- His main customer is Papyrus and they’re on friendly terms. Asgore is worried about how much and how hard Pap works, so he often gives him a discount. 

- Since his family’s past tragedy, Asgore is kind of nervous around kids. So, when he first met Frisk, he hoped they’d not visit him too often. But to his chagrin, Frisk took an instant liking to him and spends a lot of time at his shop (and steals eats the fresh grown veggies). Now, he’s really grateful for that, because for one, he loves Frisk as dearly as he had his own children, and also because now the tension and mistrust between him and Toriel seem to grow smaller day by day.

Undyne&Alphys:

- I gave Undyne a pretty basic fisher’s outfit. Alphys basically has Elli from HM’s outfit, just a bit more doctory stuff added. She still has her canon lab coat too.

- In essence, Undyne and Alphys have 2 completely different jobs. Alphys is the resident doctor and Undyne runs the fish market.

Two things. Yes, I know Alphys is more a mechanic than a doctor, she fits the aesthetic though, so she’s the doc now. And no, Undyne being a fisherwoman is not cannibalism, think of it more as a shark hunting smaller fish.

- The reason I lump them together is because they act as the local “smithy”. Alphys is still really tech savvy in this (I mean, Mettaton is still part of this AU), so she takes on most problems with electronics and stuff. For Undyne, I didn’t want to lose her Royal Guard’s Captain image, so she’s really good at handling tools (and weapons, but Al doesn’t let her make them anymore). So basically, if there’s a broken tool, you can be sure that either Undyne or Alphys can fix it.

- As for relationships, those two are still an item. Alphys is still really shy and a shut-off, but since Undyne and Pap become best friends, she gets to know the skelebros better. She and Sans especially get along well, since most of the time Undyne and Papyrus are let loose, they sit back and talk about science-y stuff. (no, Sans doesn’t have a background in science but he’s still into sci-fi)

- Alphys has a bit of a strained relationship with both Asgore and Mettaton.

Back when Chara and Asriel died, it was because of “illness” (maybe poisoning?). Alphys feels awful because with her back then limited knowledge on medicine she couldn’t help the two. Asgore doesn’t hold anything against her but Alphys can’t help but feel guilty.

Alphys still built Mettaton’s body in this one. The two had a really big disagreement, because Mettaton hated the fact the town was going to close, and he couldn’t understand how Alphys could feel otherwise, even more so endorse the idea.

Mettaton, Napstablook, Mad Dummy/Mew Mew:

- Napsta and Dummy are pretty self-explanatory, they got straw hats. Mettaton’s outfit is a bit of a joke cos it’s a play on “work at the top and party at the bottom”. The tie has two different sides, one with the yellow red pattern, the other completely red. His “top part” is the business part, because when he’s on tv or in the mayors’ office, you don’t usually see his feet. The bottom is his party/dance part, cos his dancing/entertainment channels mostly feature his legs. 

- Mettaton, still a robot, Napstablook and Mad Dummy are all still cousins in this AU.

- Originally, they all lived and worked at the Blook Farm, the Animal Farm of this AU. Mettaton, however, despised that simple live and after befriending Alphys and her building him a body, he left the Farm to pursue bigger things. 

- Mettaton runs the local tv network. From weather to game shows, he does it all. He also runs the tailor shop in town that sells his designer clothes and merchandise. After Asgore stepped down, Mettaton also took over the role of town’s mayor and now works towards making the place more known again. Not everybody is happy with him doing that though.

- One of those people is the Mad Dummy. He can’t stand people anyways and he always claims that history would just repeat itself.

- Since the whole family is made of ghosts, they have different dummies and scarecrows they can use to take care of the animals. To mock Mettaton and kinda get back at Alphys for giving MTT such an opportunity, Mad Dummy found the blueprints for the Mew Mew robot and now modelled one of their scarecrows after it. 

- Napstablook isn’t fond of taking over obejcts like his cousins do, so he mostly takes care of the snails. Somehow, he can interact with them even when incorporeal. 

Muffet&Grillby:

- The two of them run the Inn together. Muffet cooks in the daytime and makes desserts, Grillby manages the bar in the evening. 

- The two still can’t really stand each other but working together like this benefits them both because their rivalry just spurs them on more.

- Even though Grillby is a patient person, somehow Muffet is the only person who riles him up enough to retaliate. (Well, maybe except for Sans, he’s a strong second).

So, basically everything between those two is a challenge in some way. Even if Papyrus doesn’t notice, even his cooking lessons are a challenge for them. 

- Even though they’re constantly bickering, after working together for so many years, there’s a strange level of respect and trust between them. Even if back when they first started this business, they’d pour salt into an already open wound, nowadays they’d know better and just take a step back from the other or even comfort the other (on very rare occasions only). 

Asriel&Chara:

- They be dead. Kinda.

Some Characters that’d live in that town too but that I haven’t made designs for:

- Gerson is the original smithy of the town. He’d grown up in a family of smiths, but he’d always had an appreciation for the sea. That’s why, when the town became more deserted and Undyne had a good enough skill level as smith, he took up the Captains hat and now mostly spends his days out on sea. He also ferries people to places if they need him to. Oh, and just like in canon, Undyne learned most of her skills from him.

- Burgerpants is a poor dude Mettaton basically kidnapped when he was trying to get fame in the city. Now Burgerpants works wherever MTT needs him to, be that as cameraman for the tv shows, cashier in his tailor shop or his slave secretary in the mayor’s office.

- MK is Frisk’s best kid friend. MK’s parents are in charge of shipping the goods out of town and paying the individual people. MK’s the one that usually collects the goods at the end of the day.

- Other than that, there are only a few people in town. I’d imagine the older folks or the really young families stayed in town after it was closed. I think the librarby dude would still run the library. Some Snowdin residents like the stone family or the dogs also might still live there. 

[thetomorrowshow]

poisoned rats in a pot of grain - ch 12

Masterlist - Previous

here it is folks, final installment of posioned rats but NOT the final installment of the superpowers au! there's still the last chapter of scott's backstory and a multitude of one-shots to be posted :) hope that this provides some main-arc-ending closure tho jskhdfjk

cw: discussion of stockholm syndrome, implied/referenced past abuse

~

It’s been three months that Jimmy’s lived in the big house in the center of the hero district (AKA, Scott’s house), and while he never feels like he’s getting any better, he also just can’t shake any of the weird feelings he has for Scott.

It’s undeniable. Scott is the best thing that has ever happened to Jimmy. Scott’s offered him safety, security, a place that isn’t a hospital, and he’s given so much more than was in the original deal. Home-cooked meals, a grounding presence, movie nights with popcorn and laughter, hugs, a friend, a confidant. Even on Jimmy’s worst days, he knows that Scott is there for him, will tell him again and again that he’s safe and he’s out of there and he’s never going back. No matter how annoying he is. No matter how many times he asks.

It’s undeniable. Jimmy is in love with Scott. Which is highly unfortunate, because there is no way Scott feels the same way about him.

Scott’s not only perfect and put-together, but he’s untouchable. He’s everything the city stands for, and his reputation as a pinnacle of light can’t be sullied by anything less than what he is and deserves.

Jimmy is . . . well.

So when Scott approaches him one evening, fidgeting with his phone after a long call that Jimmy hadn't heard any of, he knows what he has to do.

“Lizzie’s just gotten her own place, and she wanted to know if you’d like to stay with her,” Scott says, voice uncharacteristically nervous. “She’s still going through the legal process of reclaiming her identity from when she was presumed dead, so I would still have conservatorship for a little while, but I wouldn’t mind at all if you wanted to move in with her. She lives in a more accessible part of the city, she’s actually related to you, you wouldn't have to put up with me anymore . . . you know. We just thought it might be a better option for you.”

As Scott shifts and doesn’t quite make eye contact, Jimmy knows. Scott is uncomfortable with him. Scott doesn’t like him. Scott is through with putting him up. He’d done more than was required, anyway. Jimmy doesn’t blame him for wanting to get rid of him. Only one person in his entire life has wanted to keep him and that person—

“You don’t have to choose now,” adds Scott, eyes still fixed on some point over Jimmy’s shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that it’s an option.”

There’s not really a choice to be made, though, is there?

“Yeah, I—” Jimmy swallows, “I’d love to stay with Lizzie. That—when?”

Scott’s expression is unreadable. “You can stay as long as you like, but she said the earliest you could come is Wednesday.”

Three days.

When Scott leaves to make dinner, Jimmy stows himself away in the corner beside the guest bed that is no longer his and cries.

Midday on Wednesday, he moves out. He packs a trash bag with his still admittedly few possessions into the back of Lizzie’s Toyota Corolla, waves goodbye to Scott (he doesn’t want to hug him, doesn’t want to make this any harder for himself), and joins Lizzie in the front seat, pulling the hood of his drawstring-less grey hoodie over his face.

She tries to make small talk on the drive. Jimmy can’t find the voice to respond. Eventually, she falls silent.

Her apartment isn’t too far from the hero district, and it’s quite a bit nicer than Jimmy’s old apartment that he’d never gone back to. She shows him his room, smaller than the guest room in Scott’s house but bigger than his cell. She leaves him to make lunch and Jimmy stands in the middle of the room and tries not to cry.

He would know if he succeeded if he could see past the blurriness.

-

Lizzie seems far more determined than Scott was to get him out of the apartment.

At first it’s small things, things that Jimmy actually agrees to, like getting a membership to the gym down the street since he wants to keep building his strength but Lizzie doesn’t have any of the necessary equipment. She gets one as well, even though he knows that she doesn’t have much in the way of money, and they work out together three times a week in the mornings before she leaves for work.

It’s terrifying, being in a gym, working out, all those people around so many people all seeing when his hoodie rides up a bit and the whipping scars on his back are briefly visible, but if people notice they don’t say anything and neither does Lizzie. It doesn’t get any easier, but it doesn’t get any harder either, which is a win in Jimmy’s book.

But just as soon as he feels like he can handle that, Lizzie’s pushing him to do other things. Go shopping with her. Go to the new ice cream place together. Hang out at the mall. And sometimes he acquiesces, sometimes he goes along because he knows that it’s good for him and Lizzie hasn’t seen him in years, but sometimes he has to put his foot down. The mall is a place ripe with triggers, and it had taken just a glimpse of someone wearing a collar-like choker for Jimmy to instantly dissociate, unresponsive until Lizzie brought him home.

That hadn’t been nice, and Jimmy doesn’t intend on going to the mall again any time soon.

He does try, though, to go places with Lizzie that aren’t just the gym and therapy. She’s meaner than Scott, as he complains to Nora one day, and actually makes him do things that he doesn’t want to do. Nora just tells him that maybe that’s what he needs right now.

He really doesn’t believe that when Lizzie sets him up for a date.

“She’s really nice! She works in administration, I think you would like her!”

It doesn’t matter if he would like her. Jimmy does not want to go on a date with some woman he’s never met! Is it that hard to understand? He’s told her over the past three weeks that he’s fine with her pestering him about going places, but not about meeting people. All it had taken was two men in an alley to send him to hell—who’s to say this woman won’t drug his drink and take him away?

Lizzie understands his anxieties without him expressing them, and maybe that’s just because he hides in his room staring at the wall for hours after she brings it up, but she understands anyway. She promises that she and Joel will be there the entire time, making it a double-date if he wants that.

Jimmy doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it at all.

But he’s got to get over Scott.

Scott calls every night. It’s part of his duties as conservator, probably. He always asks to speak to Jimmy. Jimmy’s throat always closes up before he can manage a single word.

Scott’s visited twice since Jimmy’s been here, once to make sure the living conditions were adequate for his (soon to be Lizzie’s) charge, and once because Lizzie invited him for dinner. Both times Jimmy had felt almost as anxious as he had when Lizzie first came to see him, and both times he found that he couldn’t speak.

Scott seems more tired than usual. He seems stressed. He frowns more often than he smiles. Jimmy just wishes he could make everything better for him, solve all his problems.

Scott doesn’t feel that way about him, though. To Scott, he’s just another responsibility weighing him down.

So Jimmy goes on the date.

And when she’s nice, but gives him weird looks when he has to do breathing exercises, he doesn’t suggest a second one.

The second coworker Lizzie brings in is impatient with him, snaps at him when he doesn’t know how to choose from the plethora of items on the menu, and straight-up leaves when he starts panicking over the sound of the door to the restaurant swinging open. Lizzie’s entirely on his side when he says he doesn’t want to see her ever again.

And the third person Jimmy goes on a date with—a man that Lizzie had once again met at work and who had seemed up for a double date—is Mythics. Jimmy knows it is, even though he’s never seen the man’s face.

Joel knows it is too, judging by the way he spends more time staring wide-eyed at his drink, trying not to laugh. He doesn’t do anything to rescue Jimmy, as many times as Jimmy silently begs him.

And Mythics, surprisingly, is both kind and funny, and while Jimmy certainly doesn’t have a good time (the last time they’d met had been under very bad circumstances, and even seeing him makes his entire body light up in fear), it’s somehow better than his last date. Still a disaster, especially when Jimmy has a flashback when the waiter accidentally spills ice water on him and Mythics panics and just . . . pats his hand awkwardly.

After that, Jimmy tells Lizzie in no uncertain terms that he is not going on another date. She doesn’t argue with him about it.

Somehow, seeing all the romantic opportunities in his life just makes him miss Scott more.

-

“Jimmy,” Lizzie says, plopping down on the sofa beside him, “go back to him.”

It’s been two months that Jimmy’s lived here, and while Lizzie’s a good roommate and an even better caretaker (when he needs it), Jimmy desperately misses Scott. Scott still calls every evening for some reason, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same walking into the kitchen without him there, it’s not the same without hearing his voice from the guest room and immediately perking up, it’s not the same without those strong arms holding him and lulling him to sleep after a bad flashback.

Still, Jimmy’s rather skilled at schooling his face into unreaction, and he thought he’d been rather subtle about his feelings. So when Lizzie stares at him, waiting for his words, all Jimmy can manage is, “How did you know?”

Lizzie snorts. “Are you kidding? You’ve been moping around the apartment the exact same way you did when Sara Little turned you down for homecoming. Why do you think I set up all those dates, moron?”

Well, she’s not wrong. She’s also not done, though.

“And it’s not like you’ve said anything to Major, so I know you haven’t told him how you feel—you never even talk when he’s on the phone, no matter how many times he calls.”

He still doesn’t, that’s true, but even after all this time when Scott calls and Lizzie puts him on speakerphone, the words once again get stuck in his throat and nothing he does can force them out. It had taken him a while to find his voice around Lizzie in the first place, and losing those words usually means he’s mute for the rest of the night, and it’s so awkward trying to get Lizzie to work out what he wants to say.

(It was always so much easier around Scott.)

With a questioning gaze from her and a nodded permission from him, Lizzie lays her hand on his arm. “Do you really like Scott?”

He thinks for a moment.

None of his relationships have gone far. Aside from Lizzie’s disastrous attempts at getting him a romantic life, he’d had a girlfriend briefly in high school, and since then a couple of short-lived flings when life became too miserably lonely to bear. Nothing’s lasted. He hadn’t wanted anything to last.

If—not that it’s a possibility, not that Scott likes him that way—if he was dating Scott, he would very much want it to last.

“Maybe?” he croaks, rubbing his face. “I don’t—I don’t know. It’s weird, because like . . . he saved me? Is it—” and this is what’s really been holding him back, isn’t it, this dark thought that dwells in his heart— “is it wrong to fall in love with the person who’s taking care of you? Is that like—could it be some sort of Stockholm Syndrome, or something, or—”

“Jimmy,” interrupts Lizzie. “It’s not Stockholm Syndrome.”

“But if—”

“Stockholm Syndrome inherently involves developing positive feelings for an abusive captor,” Lizzie says, putting meaningful stress on the last two words. Jimmy’s face burns; he knows why she said it like that.

“You’re saying I’ve had Stockholm Syndrome before.”

Lizzie shrugs. “Just guessing, based on what your flashbacks have been like. Do your feelings for Scott seem anything like the feelings you had for Xornoth?”

A sharp shudder runs through Jimmy at the name. One hand flies to his hair, ruffling it a bit, the other to his throat, making sure there’s no press of leather.

“No,” he says eventually, thinking of the beatings, the cage, being forced to hold a kneeling position for hours on end, not being allowed to speak unless commanded by his master, the lazy smiles Xornoth had given him when he did well, the scarred words on his skin.

And then those give way to thoughts of Scott helping him back to reality after a bad flashback, running to get him water, asking him his opinion on any sort of decision, joking with him, carrying him to bed after he falls asleep while watching a movie, giving him space when he needs it and willing attention when he doesn’t, engaging him in genuine conversation and getting to know him and asking his preferences and remembering them. . . .

“No,” he affirms, stronger. “No, Scott’s different. He’s—” he tries to put into words some of his thoughts— “he’s so sweet, and he always checks in with me, and he wants my opinion—” and Jimmy’s thoughts turn to a different sort of opinion of his, one to do with abs flexing under a skin-tight suit and dimples in round cheeks and wavy cyan hair and a rough voice in the mornings. . . .

Lizzie’s watching him with a smile that says she knows exactly what he’s thinking about and Jimmy knows his face must be tomato red. “Um,” he squeaks, voice cracking, and she bursts out laughing.

When she’s recovered, and he’s recovered as well, she rubs his upper back in that awkward way of hers that he thinks is meant to be a hug but comes across on just this side of uncomfortable and stares directly into his eyes.

“You should tell him,” she says sincerely. “You’ve been through so much. It can’t be any harder than any of that.”

She’s right, but this is an entirely different category from everything else that’s happened in his life. And sue him if he hadn’t realized that actually confessing to Scott was even an option, Nobel Peace Prize winner and prime protector of the city and all else he entails. Scott’s meant to be untouchable.

Well. That was before Jimmy lived three months in his home.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Lizzie prods.

“He could turn me down.”

“Okay. And then we’ll go out for ice cream and watch sad movies and cry about it and then it’ll be over. No pining after him for months on end.”

And maybe, just maybe, Lizzie has a point.

And with the way she carefully looks away and can’t quite keep a small grin off her face, Jimmy wonders if she knows something he doesn’t.

-

Lizzie’s waiting in the car. He can go right back if he needs to. Not until he tries.

He’s come a long way in the past half year. Six months ago, he never would have imagined standing in front of Major’s door, about to ask him out, while his sister waits to pick him up after.

The late hour, intended to prevent unwanted observers and to ensure Scott’s at home, reminds Jimmy of another night. Another time, long ago. A time when he had just escaped, bleeding out and staggering deliriously to Major’s door, hoping the hero might rescue him from the demon behind.

He freezes, hand poised to knock—you can’t see stars in the city but he’s seeing them at the edges of his vision, it hurts so terribly but he has to keep going, trip through Major’s front garden to the door, he raises his hand to knock but he doesn’t have the strength, it weakly slides down the door—and he’s back, body aching with phantom pains. There’s no blood on his nice blue sweater, no terrible injuries that make him wobbly and lightheaded. It’s just him and Scott’s door.

Then the door opens, and it’s just him and Scott.

Scott’s wearing his mask, but his face breaks into a grin when he sees Jimmy and he beckons him inside, closing the door behind and slipping off his mask. “I wasn’t expecting you! I told Lizzie you could visit at any time—I already ate, but there’s some tacos if you want—”

“Scott, I—” Jimmy interrupts, but he can’t continue. All his courage flees from him in a moment, and his knees are quivering and stomach flip-flopping and Scott is gorgeous. He’s so very pretty and his eyes are slightly confused and he tilts his head just a little bit to the side and Jimmy’s never been so nervous about something so good.

“You all right?”

It’s bad enough that he looks so perfect—he’s worried about Jimmy, he invites him in when he turns up unannounced and offers him food.

He can’t accept the hospitality before telling him. He has to admit to what he feels and run.

“Scott, Scott, I—” and then it’s all rushing out, too fast to stop— “Scott I really really like you and I ignored it ‘cuz I thought it was Stockholm Syndrome or something but then I talked to Lizzie and she said it sounded like I just have a crush on you, but Scott—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t like you like that, but I do and I can’t—”

“Jimmy—”

“—everything you’ve done to take care of me I sort of assumed it wouldn’t be appropriate, so if you feel uncomfortable I can go back home with Lizzie and you can transfer conservatorship to her and then you never have to see me again—”

“Jimmy!”

He freezes, ducks his head. He wishes he had his hoodie on right about now, but Lizzie had said something about nice first impressions.

There’s silence for a moment, then Scott holds out a hand in a silent question.

Jimmy takes it.

They stand there, the only sound the creaking of the wood floor beneath Scott’s bare feet. He lays his other hand atop Jimmy’s.

“Jimmy,” Scott repeats, more even, and Jimmy looks up to see—

Scott’s smiling.

He’s smiling and that smile sends bursts of light through Jimmy’s chest, and he can’t help but blush because all his brain is saying is he’s really really pretty.

“I’ve been planning to transfer conservatorship over to Lizzie for a while,” Scott tells him, and Jimmy’s heart doesn’t even have time to drop before Scott continues. “Because I really like you, Jimmy, and I wanted to ask you out but I didn’t feel comfortable doing so while I held that power over you. I didn’t—” he lets out an almost-sigh almost-whoop and squeezes Jimmy’s hand, “I didn’t think you actually liked me! That’s why—I thought, when you left to stay with Lizzie—”

Jimmy feels. . . .

Well. He’s not quite sure what’s happening.

His phone buzzes. He lets go of Scott’s hand and fumbles it out of his pocket to check it, wincing at how ridiculously bright the screen is.

“It’s Lizzie,” he manages when Scott raises a brow. “She—she wants to know if I told you yet.”

Scott moves past him, peers out the peephole in the door. “Is she here? She dropped you off, yeah?”

Jimmy doesn’t answer. Did Scott—did Scott say he likes him? Does Scott actually, genuinely, like him?

“You like me?” he finds himself whispering, searching Scott’s face for some sign of a lie. Scott giggles, just the tiniest bit.

“Yeah, Jimmy,” he says. “I like you. Like-like you. Is that okay?”

His head is light. His head is light and he’s not quite sure if he’s standing straight or lying out flat, but the most beautiful man in the world actually likes him. Wants to go on a date with him. Wants to hold his hand and kiss him and more.

“I think I need to sit down.” He stumbles into the nice living room without even kicking off his shoes as he’s supposed to, seeing as the nice living room is for guests and has the best carpet in the house. He sinks into the slightly uncomfortable sofa there (the one in the casual living room is much softer and more lived-in), feels his head flip-flop (like his stomach won’t stop doing) and his grip on reality loosen slightly. That’s not the best.

“Um, I might have a flashback?” Jimmy closes his eyes to try and combat the floatiness, rests his head back on the sofa. “I’m just really overwhelmed at the minute.”

“Okay. I’ll text Lizzie—do you want her to come in?”

“Yes,” Jimmy answers instantly, because even though he knows Scott well at this point and has lived for so long with him, the dynamic has changed in every way he can think of and he needs someone to make sure it doesn’t change any more right now.

Scott sits beside him, and it’s almost a normal night hanging out. 

Scott really likes him. He really does.

Lizzie comes in and congratulates them, a smile in her voice that says she had known more than she let on. Jimmy doesn’t ask, just listens as she and Scott agree to call up Joel and Scott goes into the kitchen to warm up tacos for all of them. He doesn’t even open his eyes until Lizzie lifts him up—holy moly she’s strong—and carries him into the actual living room, places him gently on the much comfier sofa there. She tells him how proud she is of him, and sits with him in silence as he allows his brain to wander and secure itself in this space.

When Joel arrives Jimmy rouses himself from the half-sleep he’s managed to slip into. The four of them hang out and eat tacos and watch Wheel of Fortune reruns, Joel laying in Lizzie’s lap as she plays with his hair, Scott pressed close enough to Jimmy that his presence is there and accessible but not too close for comfort.

It’s perfect. It’s a family.

“So, you like me,” Jimmy says quietly while Joel throws popcorn and yells at the player for guessing wrong. Scott smiles at him, nudges his shoulder.

“Yep. And you like me.”

A smile crosses Jimmy’s face. “Why didn’t you kiss me earlier, then? To shut me up while I rambled, like in the movies.”

Scott snorts. “That would have been incredibly inappropriate. Just kissing you, out of the blue, without consent? No.” He holds a hand out.

Jimmy takes it.

“When I kiss you, I want it to be at your pace,” Scott tells him seriously, shifting to face him. “I want you to feel happy and safe. Does that sound okay?”

Jimmy nods, and for a moment, he considers kissing him. He’s surrounded by friends—by family, he’s safe, and he’s happy. He’s so very extraordinarily happy.

And maybe it’s silly, but he doesn’t want a kiss to ruin that feeling. If he doesn’t like it, or he isn’t ready, or it’s overwhelming, he’ll lose the warm feeling in his chest that he gets when he gazes around the room at what his life has become. He could feel sick, scared, or just generally uncomfortable and this wonderful night would end early.

There’s a chance that it would be nice. There’s a chance that it would make everything that much better.

But over the course of his life, Jimmy’s come to understand that he’s never had good luck when it comes to chances. And this moment is so perfect that he can’t quite be convinced that anything would make it better.

So instead, he ever-so-slowly rests his head on Scott’s chest, ever-so-slowly pulls Scott’s arm around him, and ever-so-slowly lets his eyes flutter shut. For once, he isn’t thinking of all the many things that could go wrong. He’s just purely happy, for the first time in years.

Scott sighs contentedly, releases Jimmy for a moment to pull the couch blanket over them cozily. 

He’s safe. He’s happy. A lot of things have changed quite suddenly, but nothing else has to right now. He can take this as slowly as he wants—Scott isn’t going anywhere. His family isn’t going anywhere.

And if he has anything to say about it, Jimmy isn’t going anywhere either.

[greeks-life]

Not The Legacy We Thought (USWNT X Brady Reader)

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓: Tom Brady, the infamous NFL Quarterback has another little sister? Reader is Nineteen and playing for the University of Michigan, when she is called up to play with the USWNT.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ! : Anxiety, Light Swearing, Fluff

𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗮 𝗺𝘂𝗹𝘁𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 :) 𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗧𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 #𝟭𝟮, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 #𝟭𝟮 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗧𝗼𝗺’𝘀 𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗧𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗮 𝗕𝗮𝘆 𝗕𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗿𝘀 :)

— — —

Four siblings, one a very famous NFL quarterback for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. You always have looked up to Tom as your hero, your big brother. Playing for University of Michigan for women’s soccer is amazing, but sometimes the comments on how you got accepted just because of who your brother is can be overwhelming.

Tom always has told you that he didn’t have a hand in getting you accepted into UM. Always saying that if he did have a hand into getting you in the University of Michigan you would certainly know it.

You and Tom always got along, from surfing and playing golf, to playing video games and cooking food. It didn’t matter what the two of you did, but somehow you both really clicked together. Not that you didn’t click with Maureen, Julie, or Nancy, but you just had this titanium tight bond with Tom.

When the rumor was going around that you might be getting the call to play with the USWNT for the 2020 Olympics, Tom was the first person that you told. He flew up to Michigan for a few days to see you on his off days, both of you waiting anxiously for the call.

On his third day in Michigan that’s when the call came in. Putting Vlatko on speaker for you both to hear what he had to say. When the USWNT coach told you had made the team, Tom took you out to celebrate. Your older brother got a little out of control, from announcing all over his social media accounts to even throwing a huge party for you.

You had been playing soccer since you were a little kid. Your parents Tom Brady Sr. and Galynn Patricia Brady always made sure you had everything you needed to be the best you could be. Yes, sometimes they could be a little bit much, but they just wanted you to be happy.

When watching the USWNT on the TV you always focused on the midfielders. But, you couldn’t help taking a personal liking to Tobin Heath, Ashlyn Harris, Kelley O’Hara, Ali Krieger, and Christen Press. They intrigued you a lot from their playing styles to their silly demeanor off the pitch.

— — —

Now here you were at the hotel for the first camp before the Send Off Series. You had been assigned to room with Tierna Davidson, but when you got to your room she wasn’t there.

Looking at the clock you saw you had a half an hour before the team meeting. So to pass some of the time you decided to unpack, that is until your phone dinged, signaling you of a new text message.

Putting down your UofM hoodie to pick up your phone, smiling at the text message your brother had sent you.

 “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐝, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 ��𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you texted him back. “𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐓𝐨𝐦. 𝐁𝐮𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆.𝐎.𝐀.𝐓. ! 🐐🏈”

Tears from laughing so hard filled your eyes at his response.

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘/𝐍. 𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐘/𝐍/𝐍. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐝, 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬. 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐃 , 𝐆𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 ! ⚽️Ⓜ️“

You were just in the middle of responding before he texted you again. “𝐁𝐔𝐂 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐏! 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐘 #𝟏𝟐 !”

Deciding that things could be left said like that, and only having twenty ministers remaining before the meeting started you decided to head down to the conference room to see who was there.

— — —

Once in the conference room you saw that Head Coach Vlatko Andonovski and the rest of of the staff were in there, you introduced yourself to them.

“Hi my name is Y/N Brady, i’m the new midfielder.” You smiled softly, as you stuck your hand out to Vlatko.

“Of course ! It’s great to finally meet you in person Y/N ! You can get settled wherever you’d like, the others should be arriving shortly.” Vlatko had told you with a soft smile of his own. The staff had introduced themselves, before you had sat down in a chair in the back row of chairs.

A few minutes later your new team members started to file in. Some gave you confused looks and others simply just smiled at you. You were happy that they hadn’t drilled you with questions yet.

Well, that was until a certain blonde defender chose to take the seat next to you. “Hi i’m Emily Sonnett, but you can call me Sonnett or Sonny.” She smiled brightly at you, with her hand held out to shake yours.

“Y/N Brady.” You returned the smile as you shook her hand with a firm shake. Turns out some of the teammates around you, were in fact ease dropping on your introduction.

“Like as in Tom Brady? Tampa Bay Buccaneers Quarterback? Tom Brady?” Turns out the person who had sort of figured you out was USWNT Vet Alex Morgan.

You nodded slightly with a shy smile on your lips. “Yeah he’s my older brother.” You said softly, your anxiety spiking up inside you slightly by the new found attention. You knew you would have the spotlight on you sooner or later, but you didn’t think it would be that soon before someone figured you out.

“That’s so cool!” Sammy Mewis said as she came to sit by you with her sister Kristie. Noticing how shocked you were by the sudden attention, Kristie discreetly told Sammy to calm down a little.

About ten minutes later the rest of the team which included Tierna, Megan, Crystal, and Rose had walked in. Seeing the whole team come in Vlatko started the team meeting.

In the first fifteen minutes of the meeting Vlatko was talking about how excited he was to be coaching this amazing team. Then came the shoe you were waiting to drop had dropped.

“We have a new member on our team as you all see. This is Y/N Brady, make sure to give her a warm welcome.” He nodded your way, which caused everyone to turn to look at you.

“Hi..” You gave a short wave with a small smile. On the pitch your a total monster who strikes fear even into the ones who had a reputation to be a total beast. But off the pitch? You keep your emotions to yourself and only share what you feel with a select group of people (Tom being the number one person you go to).

Vlatko decided to take the spotlight off of you, saving you for only the next half hour to an hour before personal questions would be sprung on you.

— — —

At dinner you were sitting with Sonnett, Rose, Tierna, Sammy, Lindsey, Kristie, and Lynn. You had connected with Sonnett and Tierna the most. You were all laughing at a tiktok of Kevin Hart and Pete Davidson when Kelley, Tobin, Christen and Alex walked over to your guy’s table.

“What are you kids laughing at ?” Alex asked you all with a raised brow and a amused smile on her lips.

“Y/N showed us this tiktok of Kevin Hart and Pete Davidson at someone’s house.” Sammy told the vets when she finally calmed down from laughing so hard.

“Can we see it ?” Kelley asked you with a curious tone. Your head nodded, before handing her your phone so that they could watch also. A minute later Kelley handed you back your phone with a amused grin.

“We just wanted to let you guys know that team bonding is in our room tonight.” Christen said softly, before glancing at you with curiosity in her eyes.

“I’ve convinced Chris to let you guys decide amongst yourselves who gets to pick the movie. Also Chris agreed to let you guys bring snacks this time.” Tobin chuckled as Christen grumbled under breath with a playful eye roll to the older forward.

“Y/N want to pick the movie ?” Lindsey immediately asked you. Everyone around you looked at you waiting for your answer with either curious looks or small smiles.

“Uh yeah sure i’m down for that.” You nodded as you slipped your phone back into the pocket of your joggers. The vets returned back to their seats, as you and the rest of the young ones resumed your conversations.

— — —

You and Tierna walked to Tobin’s and Christens room which was only at the end of the hall by the elevators. Once you both were let in that’s when Crystal and JJ called you over to where some of the Vets were hanging out.

Making your way over to one of the beds, you sat down slowly as Megan made room for you to sit. “So, Brady how do you like the team so far ?” Megan asked you with a tilt of her head.

“Great actually. Everyone I met really has been very welcoming so far. No one’s really pushed the being Tom Brady’s sister subject yet, so that’s nice.” You played with the ring on your left middle finger, it was from your birthday. It didn’t have any gems on it, but you loved it because Tom had gotten it for you not only for your birthday but because you had just received your 20th cap for UofM.

“Glad to hear that, because if they weren’t I would be putting the fear of God in them.” Becky joked with a bright grin on her lips. The statement had caused Pinoe, JJ, Crystal, Carli, and Abby to start laughing.

“Brady’s actually really dope !” Sonnett defended as she heard Becky’s statement. Crystal and Abby laughed while the other three playfully rolled their eyes at the young defender.

Just then Tobin, Christen, Kelley, and Alex walked through the hotel room door. They all came to join the other Vets on the bed. That’s when Christen had decided to be first one to push the subject you hadn’t want to push yet.

“So what’s it like being Tom Brady’s little sister ?” Christen had asked you as she made herself more comfortable on the bed. You had wondered why Tobin and Christen were late to the team bonding meeting when it was in 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 hotel room, but you opted to answer her question.

“It’s great, besides the press following us around nonstop when we hangout. It gets a bit to much for the both of us, especially during our seasons.” You nodded along with your answer, as you continued to play with your ring.

Christen was going to ask you another question, but Tobin had cut her short of it. “So what movie did you pick for us to watch ?” Tobin asked as she smiled at you. She knew by the way you avoided eye contact when the family subject came up made you more anxious. In the future you would have to thank her for being so attentive to detail.

“I was thinking Venom.” You grinned brightly which did not go unnoticed by your older teammates. Oh how they would find out why that movie made you beam up would shock them all to hell.

“Well then let’s get to watching it then !” Kelley beamed, as she made herself comfortable on the bed.

— — —

You ended up on the floor with the rest of your young teammates, occasionally you would peak at your phone to see the score of Tom’s ongoing game.

The movie had just reached the middle, when you started to get sleepy. Your eyes fluttered shut for a few minutes then opened again. Leaning over to you Kristie told you to go to sleep, you argued with her in hush whispers before you had fallen asleep mid retort.

— — —

Waking up around 6 am, you grabbed your phone to look at the text message your brother had sent you when you were sleeping.

“𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 ? 𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐘/𝐍/𝐍 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐬 ! 𝐖𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 🏴‍☠️ 𝐆𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐤𝐢𝐝 , 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐣𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 !”

You laughed quietly as you put the back down. That’s when you noticed that you were back in yours and Tierna’s hotel room, which means either Tierna or a Vet had carried you back.

You figured that you had a few hours before breakfast, so you just stayed in bed and thought about your future with this team. Maybe in the near future you would be more open with them, but you were still testing the waters with them. What made you curious was how Christen was acting around you yesterday, it was like she was trying to make you uncomfortable.

You definitely had a lot to learn about them, but you were all in to do so. You thought about how you were starting to feel a little homesick already, Michigan has been your home for two years now and you certainly enjoyed the life there. About ten minutes later you started to drift off, until a soft knock to your hotel door brought you back to being semi awake.

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 :)



[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ San- Back to you (oneshot)

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, university au.

Pairing: badboy!San x reader (fem)

Word Count: 7.3K

Warnings: profanities, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of bullying and cheating, drink spiking, and attempted sexual assault.

Except Ateez, all other names are fictional.

"I don't understand how these stupid people party here when we've got exams in two weeks," your bestfriend, Doyeon, muttered under her breath while scribbling down some notes. You both were at a café in your university, studying for the upcoming exams.

You chuckled, glancing up at her from your notebook. "Your boyfriend is one of those stupid people who are partying right now."

She rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I want to smack Yunho with this," she held up her notebook, making you snort. "I'm surprised you don't get frustrated when San is literally doing the same thing."

"Well, it's his life," you said. "I'm not his parent who can nag at him to study."

San and you have been dating for a little over eight months now; other than Doyeon and San's friends, no one else knew about your relationship. Doyeon and Yunho were also dating for a while now. You both didn't really know why the boys didn't want other people to know about your relationship, but you both just went with the flow despite witnessing girls throwing themselves at them everyday. Doyeon was really calm about the whole situation, but you actually weren't even though you never let it show; you were quite worried about San leaving you for other women who were like him. You never understood why he's dating someone like you: the type who rarely parties, rarely drinks, never smokes, decently studies and gets good grades, never gets involved in fights; the opposite of him, basically.

Doyeon was about to say something, but your conversation was interrupted by someone who suddenly sat beside you in your booth, placing a textbook on the table. "Don't mind me, ladies," one of your university's badboys, Kangmin, said. "There was no place to sit, so here I am."

Ji Kangmin was handsome, and a typical badboy from what you've heard. You didn't really know much about him personally, but you knew his friend group and your boyfriend's group were rivals and often got into fights.

"I'm surprised you're here," Doyeon stated, raising an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be at some party?"

"I don't party when exams are near," he said with a small smile. "I know I don't have a good reputation, but unlike other people here who have the same reputation as me, I actually want to score well and decently graduate." You were stunned, not expecting to hear that from someone like him. Well, maybe all badboys aren't the same.

-

"Babe!" San whined sleepily when you pulled his blanket off his body. "God, my head fucking hurts."

"Serves you right for drinking all night," you said, running a hand through his messy black hair.

"But the party was epic," he mumbled, eyes closing at the way you played with his hair.

After a few minutes, San took some painkillers and got up to take a shower. When he finished, he immediately pulled you into a hug. "I missed you," he said, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You chuckled. "You saw me yesterday morning."

"But that was in class," he murmured, placing soft kisses on your neck, making your heart race. "I didn't get to talk to you."

"Then maybe you should start talking to me in class," you said and immediately regretted it when you felt San tense up.

San moved a step back to look at you. "Babe, you know I can't do that," he stated. "I don't want people to know about us or start—"

"Yeah, I know," you cut him off with a small smile, hiding your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's fine," he said, kissing your forehead. "Let's go have breakfast, yeah?"

"Um, actually, I have to go back to my dorm," you said, making San frown and ask why. "I've got a study session with Doyeon," you lied; you just didn't feel like being here at the moment.

San sighed, cupping your cheeks. "Babe, you study so much. These exams don't matter much."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "San, these are end of the first semester exams. They're extremely important."

San didn't say anything; he only leaned down to capture your lips with his own. "Stay for a little while, please," he murmured against your lips. Before you could protest, he kissed you again, this time more passionately. He gently pushed you onto his bed, hovering above you before reconnecting your lips. Your hands wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. One of San's hands slipped under your blouse, moving to cup your breast, giving it a squeeze. You gasped due to his actions and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your phone began ringing but both of you ignored it. You were getting wetter by the second and you could feel San's growing bulge pressing against you. When your phone rang for the fourth time, San pulled away with an annoyed sigh. You chuckled, getting up from his bed to get your phone from your bag.

"Hello?" you answered.

"Where are you?! Class is gonna start in ten minutes!" Doyeon exclaimed.

"What? What class? All our classes were canceled for today."

"Mr. Byun said he's gonna take class today. Didn't you check your email?"

"Fuck. I'll be there in five." You hung up and quickly checked your reflection in San's mirror, reapplying your lip balm and tying your hair into a ponytail. San's eyes were on you the entire time.

"Are you ditching your lovely boyfriend for a class?" San asked with a pout. "Especially when you made him get all hard?"

"Yes," you replied with a small giggle. "I'll make it up to you when I'm done, I promise." you placed a quick kiss on his lips before rushing to your dorm to collect your stuff.

-

"Can I sit here?" you heard someone ask, making you look up from your notebook. Ji Kangmin was giving you a small smirk. "Seats are full."

"Go ahead," you said, returning your attention back onto your books. Fortunately, Kangmin studied quietly, not disturbing you even once.

"Why is this so hard?" you muttered under your breath, eyebrows furrowing in irritation due to the differentiation problem you've been breaking your head for.

"Need help?" Kangmin asked.

"Are you good at calculus?"

He snorted, showing you the cover of his textbook. "I'm a math major, darling." Your eyes widened, not expecting that at all. "I thought you knew but you clearly don't," he said with a chuckle. "But I know you're a computer science major." He reached for your notebook, scanning through what you've written. "Ah, so this is where you went wrong," he murmured before explaining everything to you.

After a good three hours of studying, you got up and stretched your arms. Kangmin helped you with a few sums and told you many tricks and tips to save time and make the problems easier to solve. He walked with you to your dorm building since his was right opposite yours. You caught a few people staring at the two of you, but you brushed it off; Kangmin was popular, so obviously they would stare. You had to admit, it felt quite weird to see people staring at you. You were sure they all would react the same way if you were with San.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Kangmin grinned, running his hand through his brown hair. You nodded with a smile before entering your dorm building.

-

You spent the entire week studying with Kangmin and sometimes Doyeon joined the two of you. You were really anxious about the exams, but Kangmin managed to make you calm down a little; you were really grateful for his company.

"So Jihoon asked me out and I said yes!" Hyewon said, making you and Doyeon squeal.

"Girl! I told you this day would come!" Doyeon exclaimed, making Hyewon blush. You and Doyeon teased her for blushing, laughing at how her cheeks got even pinker.

San secretly glanced at you from across the classroom, smiling at the sight of you laughing; he thought you were absolutely beautiful.

"What's he doing here?" Jongho muttered, making San and Mingi follow his line of sight.

"Probably here to find someone to fuck," Mingi said in an unbothered tone.

San focused his attention back on you until that very person tapped your shoulder. "Why the fuck is he talking to my girl?!"

You turned to look at the person who tapped your shoulder. "Oh, hey, Kangmin! What are you doing here?" you asked.

He pulled a notebook from his bag, handing it over to you. "I accidentally took your notebook yesterday, so I came to return it," he said. "Sorry about that."

"Oh no, it's okay, don't worry about it," you smiled. He was about to say something, but your professor arrived, so he had to leave and go to his own class.

After the lecture ended, you had lunch with Doyeon, Hyewon, and Jihoon at your dorm's dining hall. You couldn't help but gush about how great Hyewon and Jihoon's chemistry was; they were the cutest couple you have ever seen.

Your phone rang and you picked it up as it was San. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" San asked, sounding a little annoyed.

"At my dorm's dining hall," you replied. "Why?"

"Come to your room right now," he said and hung up before you could say anything. You quickly had the last few bites of your food before excusing yourself, telling your friends you had some work to do.

You made your way over to your room, spotting San right outside your door, wearing a blue hoodie with the hood up and a black mask. You unlocked your door with your key-card, feeling a little anxious due the serious look in your boyfriend's eyes. He closed the door before moving to sit on your bed.

"Sannie, what's wrong?" you asked, moving to stand in front of him. He stared up at you, staying silent for a while before he took off his mask, tossing it on your desk.

"Why did Ji Kangmin talk to you today?"

"He accidentally took my notebook yesterday so he came to return it," you answered honestly.

San raised an eyebrow. "Yesterday? Why were you with him yesterday?" he asked in a stern tone.

"We were studying. He was helping me with calculus."

San scoffed, getting off your bed. "I'm sure that's not what his true intentions are. Stay away from him." San's words annoyed you.

"And how do you know what his true intentions are?" you asked. "We were literally just studying, that's all."

"I don't fucking like him, Y/N. He isn't a good person and I don't want him anywhere near you. So please just stay away from him."

You sighed, glancing at the tiny cat tattoo on San's finger. "Fine..."

San gently cupped your cheek, making you look at him. He didn't like how disappointed you looked and he couldn't help but think about Kangmin stealing you away from him. "Baby... please trust me, he's just trying to get into your pants." You wanted to tell him that all those girls who flirt with him wanted the same, but you knew he already knew that and he liked the attention he got.

"Okay..." You moved away from him, picking up your textbook from your desk and placing it on your bed. "Do you wanna study with me?" you asked San.

"Nah, I'm not in the mood to study."

"You never are," you snorted, earning a wink from him.

"You study, I'll just take a nap here beside you," he said, placing a kiss on your forehead, lying down on your bed.

"Don't try anything, San," you warned him, lying down beside him. He chuckled, placing an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

San fell asleep while you studied. When you took a small break, you couldn't help but admire your sleeping boyfriend; he looked so angelic... ethereal, even. You placed a light kiss on his cheek before slowly getting off the bed to go to the bathroom.

When you came back, San was awake. "How long did I sleep?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"Almost two hours," you said, returning to your bed.

"Oh... oh crap! I should get ready. I've got a party to go to tonight," he said, stretching his arms. "Do you wanna come?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You already know my answer to that."

He chuckled, kissing your head. "Have fun studying, babe."

---

"Finally!" Doyeon yelled in happiness. "We're finally done after two weeks of torture!"

"Thank god we have an entire week off," you said, gently massaging your aching wrist.

"These exams were way harder than I expected," Hyewon said and you agreed. "You both are coming for Kang Hyunsuk's party tonight, right?"

"Of course! It's in a huge mansion, you know? Besides, I need to get drunk and laid in luxury," Doyeon said, making you and Hyewon laugh.

You quickly got ready at Doyeon's dorm in the evening before taking a cab to Kang Hyunsuk's mansion that was fortunately not too far away.

The mansion was decorated with LED lights inside and out. The large hall was converted into a dance floor and he even hired a DJ. You were sure more than half of the students at your college was here, and there were certainly a lot of people from the neighboring colleges as well.

Doyeon grabbed your hand, pulling you to the large kitchen where the drinks and snacks were. You both took two shots of vodka each before you greeted some of your classmates. Doyeon was already really tipsy due to her poor alcohol tolerance. On the other hand, you took another shot and you were still quite sober.

"Wow, Y/N, you look so hot!" Hyewon said, approaching you with Jihoon.

You were wearing a lacy dusty-rose bralette with black ripped jeans and combat boots. The bralette showed off more cleavage than you'd usually show, but you were feeling a little extra today.

You noticed Yunho approaching the kitchen with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, his eyes scanning Doyeon from head to toe. You nudged Doyeon with your elbow, gesturing to Yunho with your eyes. She glanced around, eyes landing on Yunho who gave her a smirk. She smiled at him before moving towards him. She whispered something in his ears, making him drag her away immediately. You weren't expecting your bestfriend to ditch you this early, but oh well.

"Hey Y/N," Seonghwa greeted you. "Have you seen San or Jongho?"

"Nope, I came to the kitchen as soon as I got here," you replied, pouring yourself another shot.

"Ah, all right." Seonghwa and Hongjoong took a drink before they disappeared into the crowd.

One of your friends dragged you outside to the area beside the swimming pool; she wanted to introduce you to some people from another university. You spotted San, Jongho, Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yeosang on the other of the pool, surrounded by girls as usual. There were a few guys there and they were all playing a game of spin the bottle. There was a girl sitting on your boyfriend's lap, and that annoyed you a lot. You couldn't do anything about it since San didn't want anyone to know about your relationship. When you got to see the girl's face, your eyes widened; it was your ex-bestfriend, Park Hyejoo. You scoffed in disbelief; San knew who she was and what she did to you in high school, yet he let her sit on his lap. You tried not to pay attention to them by focusing on the conversation your friend was having with the people she had introduced you to. It somewhat worked... until you heard cheers and whistles which caught everyone's attention.

Hyejoo's face was buried in San's neck, no doubt giving him a hickey. He wasn't even pushing her away. You felt your eyes tear up, but you blinked it away. You couldn't look away until she pulled away. And then she kissed him, causing you to gasp.

"Why are you so surprised?" your drunk friend asked you. "She fucks around as much as Choi San does. I even heard they're fuck buddies."

San pulled away from Hyejoo, but he only smirked at her, making no effort to push her off his lap. Yeosang—who was sitting beside San—noticed you watching, and he immediately elbowed San. "You fucked up big time, bro," Yeosang murmured in his ear.

"What do you mean?" San asked.

"Y/N's over there. She saw everything."

San glanced around until his eyes found your disappointed and sad ones. He wasn't even expecting you to attend the party. He scanned you from head to toe, eyes darkening due to the way you looked in that outfit.

"You dumb fuck," Yeosang muttered, low enough for only San to hear. "Are you seriously eye-fucking her right now? Put your damn reputation aside and go talk to her before you fuck shit up more, idiot!"

San excused himself, pushing your ex-bestfriend off his lap, making his way over to you. But of course, he couldn't be seen with you, so he just gestured with his head for you to follow him. Even though you were so upset, you followed him a few seconds later. He stopped at the garden where there was no one; you could still hear the blasting music from here.

San was dressed in all black and he looked absolutely irresistible. You would've asked him to fuck you right here against the wall, but you were damn pissed at the moment.

"Damn, babe," he said, lips pulling into a smirk. "My girl's looking so hot." He reached out to pull you into his arms, but you took a step back. San frowned. "Babe..."

"You knew what Hyejoo did to me," you said with a bitter chuckle. "And you let her sit on your lap." You pointed at the hickey on his neck. "You let her do that to you despite the fact that you have a girlfriend, who is in fact, standing right in front of you!" You would never lash out like this if it wasn't for the alcohol in your system. Hyejoo bullied you a lot in high school to the point where you had to change schools. San knew every little detail of what Hyejoo did, and you remembered how angry he was when you told him about it.

"Babe, calm down, please," San said softly.

"Calm down? You want me to calm down?! That fucking bitch was sitting on your fucking lap the entire time and she gave you a damn hickey! You didn't even stop her!"

"It was just a dare and—"

You scoffed. "And what about the kiss?"

"She kissed me. I didn't kiss back, I swear!"

"And you made no effort to push her off your damn lap even after that, right?"

San sighed; he really didn't want to fight with you right now. "I think you're overreacting, Y/N. Like I said, it was only a dare."

"Yeah, how about I go sit on another man's lap and suck his neck, hmm? I fucking bet you would love that," you chuckled bitterly. San clenched his jaw at your words; if that were to ever happen, he wouldn't hesitate to punch that guy.

"That's not going to happen," he placed his hands on your bare waist, pulling you against his body. "Let's not fight, okay?" he murmured, kissing your head.

You moved away from him, eyeing the hickey on his neck with disgust. "Fuck off, San," you mumbled. "I need a damn drink." Before San could could say anything, you made your way to the table of drinks beside the pool. You quickly downed three shots, eyes closing at the way the liquid burned your throat.

"Woah, woah, slow down there. You'll choke," you heard someone say from behind you.

"Who gives a fuck?" you muttered.

"Well, I certainly do, darling," Kangmin said, moving to stand in front of you. "You look really nice, even though you look like you could murder someone right now."

You glanced at San who returned back to where he was sitting before. Hyejoo started clinging to him, and he made no effort to do anything about it again. You rolled your eyes, not even surprised that your words went into San's ears and left just as fast. "Believe me, I want to," you said, feeling the alcohol starting to hit you harder.

"I don't know who pissed you off, but loosen up, yeah?" Kangmin said, pouring himself a drink. You noticed the tattoos all over his arms, one of them catching your eye. You grabbed his arm, trying to get a better look. "It's a... squirting dick?" you tried to control yourself from laughing.

"My friend's a tattoo artist and he tattooed it on me without telling me," he said with a chuckle.

"I want one too," you whined. "I want one now."

"What? A squirting dick?"

You lightly punched his bicep, swaying a little due to the effect of the alcohol in your system. "No, a good tattoo!"

"You're drunk right now, darling," he chuckled. "It's never a good idea to get a tattoo when you're drunk, trust me."

You pouted. "But I want a tattoo."

He placed his cup on the table and moved his hands to cup your cheeks. "I promise I'll take you to get a tattoo this week, okay? Now, let's go dance, hmm?" You nodded, letting him drag you inside to the dance floor.

San saw everything and his hands clenched into fists. He was so tempted to punch Kangmin and yell at him to stay away from you, but he couldn't risk his reputation like that; he didn't want anyone to know about your relationship no matter what. San went to where you were standing before, taking a tequila shot while he wondered what to do.

"Ji Kangmin and Y/N? Damn!" San overheard someone say.

"I didn't expect him to make a move on her," the other person said. "She's a goody two shoes and he's far from that."

"Kangmin likes women like that actually," the first person said. "And Y/N is very pretty. I'm not very surprised that he went for her."

"Hmm. They do look great together. He seems to like her a lot, no? I saw him walk her to her dorm last week." San's jaw clenched and he quickly made his way inside, searching for you. The dance floor was so crowded, he couldn't even get a glimpse of you anywhere. He tried calling you, but you didn't pick up. He tried calling Doyeon, but she didn't pick up as well.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, moving through tons of drunk, sweaty people, trying to find you.

After nearly fifteen minutes, he found you sitting alone on of the sofas, head resting on the armrest. "Y/N!"

"Kangmin...?" you lifted your head. "Oh, it's you."

"We're leaving," San said, grabbing your hand.

"No, f-fuck you," you hiccupped. "Go fuck off to Hyejoo." San ignored your words, taking his phone out to book a cab to his apartment. He helped you stand up and pulled you along with him. You wanted to protest, but your body was aching and you really just wanted to sleep.

You fell asleep on San's shoulder in the cab. He carried you bridal style and unlocked his door with the passcode, moving to his bedroom. He gently placed you on the bed and removed your boots. You opened your eyes due to the movement, feeling quite sick. "San..." you murmured. "I think I'm gonna throw up." San quickly lifted you up and took you to the bathroom, holding your hair back while you threw up in his toilet. He gently rubbed your back until you were done.

You brushed your teeth with the toothbrush you kept at San's place, and you took a quick hot shower, sobering a little. San gave you one of his t-shirts to wear and he dried your hair for you.

As soon as your head landed on the pillow, you fell asleep.

-

When you woke up, your head was pounding terribly. You slowly opened your eyes, immediately recognizing that you were in San's apartment; you couldn't remember much of what happened last night. You moved to his bathroom to take a painkiller and finish your morning routine. After you took a shower, you wore one of his black hoodies with one of your shorts that you usually kept at his place.

You felt a pair of muscly arms wrap around you. "You look so good in my clothes," San murmured, placing a kiss on your head. You turned around in his arms, titling your head back to look at him. You were about to wrap your arms around his neck, but your eyes landed on the hickey on his neck, reminding you of the events that happened last night, making you immediately pull yourself away from his embrace.

San frowned. "Babe—"

"San," you start. "Is your reputation that important that you can't even push another girl away when she's throwing herself at you? Especially when you know just how terrible that girl is?" you asked.

San took your hands in his. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have let—"

"But you still did," you argued. "Why don't you want to tell people about us, San? Is it because I'm not like you or your friends? Do you think I'm not attractive enough to be next to you?" He didn't say anything. "I feel like you're just using me," you continued, remembering the amount of times you've heard people say San only screws around. "Do you even love me?" The last question made San freeze. You had fallen in love with San months ago, but he didn't know and probably wouldn't have even noticed.

You waited for him to say something, but he only kept quiet, eyes fixated to the floor. "San, I think we should just," you gulped, eyes tearing up again. "We should b-break up. I really can't tolerate this anymore..." Your words felt like knifes were constantly slicing his heart. "Don't you have anything to say?" you asked, hoping he would fight for you or convince you that continuing this relationship is worth it. You wished he would change.

"How can I when you've already made up your mind?" San murmured, avoiding your eyes. "If you think breaking up is what's best then okay..." he wanted to say much more. He wanted to beg you to not leave him. He wanted to tell you just how much he loved you. But he couldn't. Even if he tried, he just couldn't.

"I'll collect my stuff from here tomorrow," you mumbled, putting your boots on. San could only nod as he watched you.

Before you could leave, San stopped you. "I... I just wanted to ask you... if you ever," he took a deep breath. "If you ever loved me."

You smiled sadly. "It doesn't matter," you whispered, but it was loud enough for him to hear you. "Take care, San," you mumbled before walking out the door, shattering his heart.

-

"You fucked up even more," Yeosang said, watching San smoke a cigarette.

"That's very helpful. Makes me feel great," San stated sarcastically, blowing the smoke to the air.

"No offense, Sannie, but I agree with Yeosang," Hongjoong said. "You should've told her how you felt instead of keeping quiet."

"I know," San sighed. "But she already made up her mind."

"Dude, you're really dense," Wooyoung stated. "She asked you if you had something to say. That translates to 'fight for me.' I don't think you've noticed, but Y/N is definitely in love with you."

San's head shot up. "She wouldn't have broken up with me if she really loved me, Woo."

Seonghwa groaned in frustration. "If I was in Y/N's place, I would dump your stupid ass too."

"Agreed," Yeosang said. "I told you before, San, your reputation is going to fuck up everything. You need to let go of your past as well before it's too late."

"Ji Kangmin's got his eyes on her," Mingi stated. "I heard his friends talking about it."

"Yeah, I heard that too. Y/N is close to him," Jongho added.

San rolled his eyes, taking a drag from the cigarette. "He has nothing else to do other than stealing the girls I like."

"Exactly, and you're letting him do it again," Yunho said, taking the cigarette away from San and crushing it with his shoes. "You have to make a decision Sannie. Either you sort things out with Y/N, or you lose the woman you love to that very bastard again."

---

"So you had the hots for Y/N, huh?" Kangmin asked San while he waited in line to order his drink.

"That's none of your business," San said in a cold tone to his ex-bestfriend.

"I saw you talking to her privately that day," he said, referring to the party you attended almost two weeks ago. San ignored his words. "I don't know what was going on between the two of you," Kangmin continued. "But whatever it was, I'm glad it didn't last long. I want to make her mine."

San scoffed. "You just want to get into her pants."

Kangmin snorted. "Obviously. But after spending two weeks with her, without you around, I'm quite interested. Y/N is gorgeous and has a great personality. She's a rare gem, you know? I bet she'd be just as wonderful in bed and tastes as sweet as she loo—"

San took a step towards Kangmin, grabbing the collar of his shirt. "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll break your damn face!" San warned.

"Ohhh, I'm so scared," he teased, pushing San away. "Fuck off, Choi San. Someone like Y/N doesn't deserve a bastard like you. You weren't and will never be good enough for her." San chose to ignore him, not wanting to cause a big scene at the café. Kangmin's words stabbed him in the heart. San always thought he wasn't good enough for you, but he never expected to hear anyone say it out loud.

Kangmin's phone started ringing and he couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. "Hey, gorgeous," he answered, loud and clear. "I'm at the café near your building, getting you your favorite drink and some cupcakes. I'll pick you up from class."

"That won't be necessary," you replied, pushing the door of the café to enter. You instantly spotted Kangmin and made your way towards him, unaware of San who was standing right behind him. "Hi!" you said to Kangmin who hung up once he saw you.

"Hey, beautiful! How was class?" he asked, secretly glancing at San; you still hadn't noticed San as your back was facing him.

"Ugh, tiring. I hate extra classes. I couldn't understand any—" your phone started ringing, interrupting your sentence. You answered the call as it was from your bestfriend.

"Where are you?" Doyeon asked.

"At the café near our dorm," you replied.

"Come over fast, we have to get ready for Hyewon's party. She wants us to come early cause she needs help."

"I'll be there in a bit."

-

"I didn't expect any of them to be here," you said to Doyeon while drinking some whiskey and coke from a red cup, watching your ex-boyfriend converse with his infamous group of friends; they usually went clubbing on Saturday nights. "Aren't you gonna go over to Yunho?"

"I don't wanna ditch you," she answered. You gently pushed her in Yunho's direction.

"Go, I'll be fine."

Before she could reply, Kangmin wrapped his arms around you, startling you a little. Doyeon gave you a wink before making her way towards her boyfriend, leaving you with Kangmin.

"Can we talk?" he whispered in your ear, making sure to move closer to your body once he noticed San watching. You nodded, letting him pull you upstairs. You had gotten quite close to Kangmin these last two weeks; you were really glad to have a friend like him. He distracted you from the pain you felt from not being with San anymore.

Kangmin gently pushed against the wall, trapping you between his arms. You gasped. "What are you doing?"

"I like you, Y/N," he confessed with a smile. "I wanna date you." Before you could say anything, he kissed you. You were a little too shocked, so you let him kiss you for a few seconds. When you regained your senses, you pushed him away. He stared at you, confused by your actions.

"Kangmin, I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same way..."

Kangmin rolled his eyes. "It's cause of Choi San, isn't it?"

"No," you lied. Of course it's cause of San. You were still in love with him. You didn't want to date anyone until you got over him. "I only see us as friends, Kangmin," you stated honestly. "You're a really good friend and I don't want to lose you."

Kangmin sighed. "Okay, let's just forget about this. Let's have a drink, hmm?" You nodded, following him downstairs to the kitchen.

You were talking to one of your friends while Kangmin got a drink for you.

"Thanks," you said, taking the cup from him. You took a sip of your drink. It tasted a little salty, but you didn't mind. You felt yourself relaxing a little while you nodded your head to the music. By the time you finished your drink, you felt pretty lightheaded. You clinged to Kangmin's arm. "Hey, could you take me to the couch?" you requested, words slurred. "I don't feel very good..."

"Of course," Kangmin lifted you into his arms, bridal style. He carried you upstairs into one of the rooms, shutting the door behind him with his foot. He placed you on the bed. "You don't know how long I've waited for this," he said, licking his lips while he took your crop-top off. You didn't know what was happening and your vision was really blurry. Kangmin pushed you onto your back before hovering above you. The sudden movement made your head spin even more, causing you to pass out. "Oh, too bad she couldn't stay conscious for this..." he murmured to himself. He ran his hands up from your jean-clad legs to the soft skin of your abdomen before reaching behind your body to unclasp your bra. Before he could pull the piece of clothing away from your body, the door swung open.

"You fucking bastard!" San yelled, pushing Kangmin off of you. Jongho and Hongjoong were right behind San.

"What the fuck, dude?!" Kangmin yelled. "Get out! Can't you see we're busy?!" His words pissed Jongho off. He immediately grabbed Kangmin by the collar and punched him twice in the nose. Kangmin fell to the floor, holding his broken, bloody nose in pain. Jongho wanted to punch him one more time, but Hongjoong held him back. "Don't. You'll end up killing him."

San started crying when he saw your passed out form; he couldn't even think about what would've happened if his friends didn't overhear Kangmin's friends talking about him spiking your drink. San clasped your bra back and put your crop-top on you before he lifted you into his arms. "I'm taking her to my apartment," he said to his friends.

"I'll drive you," Hongjoong offered.

-

When you woke up, you immediately recognized your surroundings. You had absolutely no idea of how you ended up in your ex-boyfriend's bedroom.

Your head was pounding and you wondered what time it was as it was really sunny outside. Before you could get off San's bed, he entered the room.

"You're awake," he said softly, relief clear in his eyes. "Take a shower and come eat. You must be really hungry."

"What happened? What's the time right now?" you questioned, your heart racing at the mere sight of him in a lilac hoodie and black sweatpants.

"I'll tell you after you eat," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's three in the afternoon. Doyeon got some clothes for you. There's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom."

"Thanks," you mumbled, getting up to go to the bathroom.

After you took a shower, you made your way to San's kitchen. You took a seat at the dining table, looking at all the different dishes on the table.

"You made all this?"

San shook his head. "I wasn't able to cook today. Wooyoung and Seonghwa made it. They left a few minutes ago." You noticed how tensed and sad he was; you wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but you knew he wouldn't answer your question until you ate.

You both ate in a comfortable silence. You tried to recall the events from last night, but you weren't able to. You frowned, wondering if you really drank that much.

"Are you all right, San?" you asked, settling on his couch after you both finished eating.

He took a deep breath and you noticed the slight dark circles beneath his eyes. "Can I hug y-you?" he asked, voice cracking while his eyes teared up.

You immediately scooted closer to him on the couch, wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck while he held you tightly. His body shook convulsively while he cried, his tears wetting your neck. You ran a hand through his soft hair, knowing it would help calm him down a little.

San pulled away from you, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his lilac hoodie. "I'm sorry..."

You grabbed his hand, intertwining it with yours. "What happened, Sannie?"

Hearing you call him by his nickname brought another set of fresh tears to his eyes. Your other hand reached up to wipe his tears away.

"I love you, Y/N," he confessed, more tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before. I'm so sorry for being a jerk to you and prioritizing my reputation. I fucked up and I regret it so much." You took a deep breath, trying to control your rapid heartbeat while you listened to every word he said. "I felt like dying after what happened last night. I'm so sorry, this is all my fault," he sobbed.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What happened last night?"

"O-Oh you don't remember...?" You shook your head. San cleared his throat, trying his best to not to break down again. "Wooyoung and Hongjoong overhead Ji Kangmin's friends say that he spiked your drink after you rejected him." you froze in shock. "They immediately told us about it, and me, Hongjoong, and Jongho rushed over to you. You weren't conscious when we found you. Your top was off and he was about to take your bra off as well, but I pushed him away. Then Jongho punched him. I brought you here after that."

You stared at San in disbelief. "Kangmin s-spiked my drink...?"

San nodded. "He had it all planned. I'm sorry, Y/N... none of this would've happened if he didn't see us together." You were too shocked to say anything; you couldn't believe Kangmin would go this low just cause you rejected him. "Ji Kangmin was my bestfriend in high school. After I got a girlfriend, he acted like a bitch to me cause he wanted her. I really loved her, and she cheated on me with him. He spread a lot of false shit about me after I ended our friendship. When I tried to move on with another girl, he took her away from me too. I didn't want other people to know about us only because he would find out. I didn't want him anywhere near you because I knew he would try to take you away from me. I didn't push Hyejoo away that day because he was watching me and would get suspicious of my actions if I pushed her away. I tried my best to do everything that would keep him away from you, but I still failed..."

You burst into tears, wrapping your arms around San; you had no idea he went through all this. "I'm sorry, San. I should've listened to you when you told me he wasn't a good person," you managed to say through sobs.

"No, Y/N, I'm the one who should say sorry for not telling you all of this before." He held you, gently rocking you back and forth while he cried with you. "Thank you for rejecting him..."

You pulled away, cupping his cheek. "How could I ever date someone else when I'm love with you, San?"

His heart raced in his chest due to your words. "That's why you rejected him?"

You nodded. "And I'm glad I did."

San smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. "Can I..." he hesitated "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, please."

San immediately captured your lips with his own, kissing you oh so gently. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He smiled, causing you to smile as well while you kissed him; you both missed this so much. The kiss was slow and soft, the two of you just wanting to savor this moment. Your hands played with his hair while his hands lazily ran down the expanse of your back. San pulled away, holding you tight against his chest.

"I know I hurt you a lot and I don't even deserve to speak to you right now... but I want to start over, Y/N," San said honestly. "I want to treat you the way you deserve... show you off to the world... I want to make things right between us. These two weeks were pure torture without you, and I realized that I can't... I can't live without you, Y/N. I really need you, baby."

You rested your head on his chest and you could hear his fast heartbeat. "I need some time, Sannie." you noticed him tense up a little and you knew exactly what he was thinking. "And no, this isn't me indirectly rejecting you or anything. I want to be with you, San. I always have and that isn't gonna change. I just need a little time, considering everything that happened." San nodded in understanding. "I promise that I will come back to you."

"I love you and I'll wait for you," San said, placing a kiss on your head.

"Thank you... I love you too, Sannie." He giggled, loving the way you say those three heart-fluttering words. He cupped your cheek to pull you into another sweet kiss, making your heart race again.

The two of you knew that no matter what, you both would always find your way back to each other.

[pwarkluv]

❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js

park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words 

WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(

SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!

whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes. 

they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. 

but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went. 

jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.

the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.

they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).

see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.

but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.

people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside. 

❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞

love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least. 

jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.

and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.

he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.

if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit. 

he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life. 

now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.

and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways. 

he just wanted to be loved. 

jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal�� kids in his neighborhood. 

jisung wanted that, craved that. 

but most importantly, the boy wanted love.

❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

everything hurt. 

his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.

jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs. 

he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.

-

wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home. 

now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in. 

the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.

your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind. 

-

jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself. 

if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option. 

grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.

“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty. 

but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.

“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard. 

“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.

the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.

“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.

“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do. 

jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him. 

“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.

-

the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.

jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.

you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there.  what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.

it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up. 

the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.

jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on. 

❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞

the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.

if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind. 

“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing. 

“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window. 

jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room. 

❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.

“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.

“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention. 

isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along. 

[sukirichi]

jujutsu kaisen characters as students in high school: (non-canon AU)

featuring: itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, getou suguru, & ryoumen sukuna notes: some parts include you as their friend, or even their high school love! (this is unedited/ not proofread)

masterlist ! requests are open 

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

he’s not the brightest bulb, but he makes up for it through hardwork and enthusiasm

yuuji is literally that classmate everyone is just friends with

the type who waves with a smile, saying “good morning!” the moment he walks through that door

with that being said, since he’s everyone’s friend, i headcannon that yuuji doesn’t really have a best friend because he’s so open and available to everyone it’s hard to have just a one on one conversation with him

not to say he’s always surrounded by a crowd that you can’t get near him, but everyone likes talking to yuuji

he just fits in so well and understands people 

kind of like how he easily clicked with junpei (please, i miss him, i still can’t believe that he’s...you know...)

whether it’s the guys raving to him about sports

or girls shyly talking about their crush on class or about that new shojo manga

yuuji is open to anything and everyone. this boy wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s honestly such a precious boy, please be kind to him <3

the type of student that gets called to answer in class but isn’t shy to admit he doesn’t know the answer while rubbing the back of his neck

he does pay attention tho

i think it’s canon that yuuji is a dedicated man, like from that time he just watched movies straight and kept his cursed energy controlled so the cursed corpse would stop hitting him

overall, yuuji is a very hard working student! 

he wouldn’t get over the top grades, but he’s really proud of himself (and he should be!)

also that one kid in class that is surprisingly good in sports despite his lanky figure and laid back persona, because all the other sports-craved people are always flexing or challenging other captains 

but plot twist, this boy is ripped and very, beautifully kept in trim

yeah he’s not really into club activities that much

not because he hates them, but he’s just not that into it. he’s more than glad to join in whatever activities though and enjoys them, but if asked what he’d like to do, it wouldn’t be that first thing that came to mind

in conclusion: itadori yuuji is the class sunflower that lights up everyone’s day  🌻

yuuji’s role: the hard worker! 

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

hands down, megumi is THAT student

if you’re volunteering in the library, you can sure as hell guarantee you’ll see megumi there

he doesn’t like studying in class because it’s too noisy, so if he’s in school, you’ll always see his name in the library logs

he’s that kid that aces all exams

the type to scowl when he sees a 96% mark because he’s expecting a perfect mark

okay before you come at me, i’m not saying megumi is that annoying smart kid in class that goes, “Oh, I’m so dumb, just a 96?”

no he’s more frustrated at himself because he knows he studied hard and lost sleep over it. he’s just wondering where he went wrong. he has literal note cards and customize flash cards on an app on his phone, waking up every four am and probably taking supplement classes after regular school hours

i headcannon that megumi is someone who always wants to do his best and actually goes through lengths to prove his worth

maybe it stems from having the need to show who he really is and what he’s capable of

but yeah i can totally see him doing that

also that cute student that keeps visiting the cafe every saturday morning, wearing a black hoodie and headphones tucked in, his pretty hands nestling over a book

he looks like a gamer but honestly i don’t think he’s got time for that lmao

would also be that guy people find hard to approach because of his quiet and reserved self

he’s pretty intimidating too

definitely sits beside the window at the back of the class. you can’t fight me on that

just because he’s smart and loves studying, it doesn’t mean he’ll sit on the front row and raise his hand every damn second

the teachers will encourage him to participate in class a little bit more, especially after seeing he’s awkward during group activities, but megumi just really prefers to do things by himself

i also headcannon him eating in the cafeteria like everyone else instead of having his alone time during a rooftop? like idk i can’t picture megumi completely isolating himself like that

he blends in well in a way that you know he’s just like everyone else; a human

but he also stands out in the manner that he’s a lot more introverted and reserved compared to everyone else

surprisingly good during sports and relay games

100% reliable

the type to stay up at midnight to finish a group project, sighing because his groupmates doesn’t care as much as he does, but turns it in anyway the next day

he’d be annoyed at them, but he doesn’t really like confrontation so he doesn’t out them to the teacher like that

but he’s also not someone who lets people walk over him, so he’ll simply say something about his groupmates becoming more responsible and to be serious for once as a “warning”

and yeah, he may be closed off, but once you get really close with him (even better if you have similar interests) you’ll find there’s a lot more to him than what you’ve originally seen and he’s actually a pretty great friend and supportive classmate

would teach you instead of just letting you copy his work or snap pictures of his notes

ugh he’s so responsible and morally right and that’s so attractive help

in conclusion: fushiguro megumi is the hidden gem  💎

megumi’s role: the intellectual outsider!

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

man...i don’t know how to start this

i’ve said this about megumi, but gojo is also that student

no, in fact, he’s THE student

everyone loves him. literally everyone

the teachers? smitten

his classmates? in love

the school guard? calls him by his first name

the cleaning lady? turns into a star with the way she lightens up when he’s there

the cafeteria staff? yeah free food because he’s gojo satoru

gojo is what i like to call the “one who has it all” because....well, he kind of does

he’s really smart and talented, which comes as a surprise to everyone in the first day of school when he nearly gets kicked out for falling asleep in class

only for everyone to be shocked that he knows the answer already and the teacher is only discussing chapter 1 lmao

yeah he’d be that kid who always sleeps in class

or is playing games on his phone behind an open textbook

he literally doesn’t listen to what the teacher is saying at all - or at least that’s what he wants you to think

man is a god at multitasking and his seatmate would snicker because he’s crushing his enemies at a phone game, but then gojo coolly corrects the teacher about history or something

he’s pretty laid back tbh

but when he’s got everyone’s attention on him? ofc he’d show off

basketball meats are wild. even students from neighbouring schools would visit just to see gojo play - and he’s not even an official member! the coach just asked him to replace a sick player but boy won that champion shot

omg BASKETBALL PLAYER GOJO I CAN’T

but he pretty much excels at everything

except cooking class, gosh, don’t ever bring this man anywhere near a fire. that’s probably the only thing that really got him to detention this time because he always somehow talks himself out of getting that red card with his words and charm

also that kid that would receive lots of confession letters, chocolates, and random gifts in his shoe lockers

he knows he’s handsome and he’s not shy about it. in fact, he’s shameless when it comes to his allure on people

but he also doesn’t really date anyone (it’s canon this man won’t stay loyal to a single woman lmao)

if he and megumi were classmates, they’d be sort of rivals

megumi would always come on top of class, but gojo is just a breath away from the former’s perfect marks. if it only weren’t for megumi’s squeaky clean record and reputation - whereas satoru’s is TAINTED as heck - and the fact that gojo doesn’t really study as much as gumi, then yeah he’d also be top of the class if he wanted to

on a much more serious note,,,gojo acts like nothing really bothers him and he’s simply that effortless

but i feel like he grew up with tutors from a very young age and that’s how his natural intelligence was just further improved and increased with that type of environment in his childhood

and unlike megumi, i don’t think gojo would really have a set goal in mind on who he wants to be or what he wants to do in the future

he’d just be enjoying the moment <3

in conclusion: gojo satoru is the effortless god!

satoru’s role: the lazy king everyone is envious of 

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

the playboy

you can’t argue with me on this one

he just is, i feel it deep in my SOUL he just is

moment he walks in, all classy and suave aura and all, you can honestly smell and taste the amount of confidence that drips from him

probably came from a well-off family

probably the mayor’s kid lmao and he’s been used to the attention ever since he was young

much like megumi, he’s not really the type to show off his intelligence

and similar to gojo, people are surprised he’s actually got them brain cells just because everyone is more focused on his appearance first

like who would expect this tall hunk beautiful beast of a man with long hair and piercings actually liked classic novels and could effortlessly recite sonatas and poems in different languages

yeah i headcannon that getou is an intellectual, cultured man

ofc having long hair and piercings isn’t allowed in his school, but because he’s geto and the school knows about his family’s influence, they just let it slide

probably comes late to school too

he eats in the cafeteria, but you don’t really see him indulge much. some days, he’ll have his own fancy bento box prepared by a family chef, but geto is actually pretty simple and humble that he also buys packed bread or canned coffee 

takes the library volunteer by surprise when he drops by one friday after class to borrow an old classic novel that even your professors had a hard time analysing

but geto’s like, “oh this? yeah i last read it when i was thirteen, thought i’d read it again”

IDK WHY but I can see him as sort of breaking the rules when it comes to the school uniform

top three buttons of his shirt open when he’s feeling hot or something

doesn’t really keep his tie that tight too

but overall, geto is a composed and well-put together guy

i just can’t picture him slacking when it comes to his appearance, he’s too fancy and pretty for that

he’s also similar to megumi in a way people find it hard to approach them, but most definitely, geto also receives confessions often 

i can see him dating someone after being interested in someone in school and actually being serious with them unlike gojo

then they would be “that” couple that’re just so couple goals

not the type that goes overboard with pda and pulls off the angry face emoji when they hear someone talking about them and they’re like, “NO HE’S MINE”

okay that’s cringe but i legit witnessed that way too many times in high school yall cant blame me lmao

but they’d be more like the chill laid back couple that supports each other in everything and you can just tell they have a happy, healthy relationship

(oh to be getou’s girlfriend in high school and his first love and all his firsts)

in conclusion: getou suguru is the unpredictable!

getou’s role is: that one classmate you really admire but he’s so far out your league but he’s genuinely a good guy anyway so you’re happy for him no matter what <3

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

okay okay hear me out but...the stoner

i really can’t see him any other way guyssss

and if you’re his classmate, you most likely wouldn’t see him that much either

dude is like 2-3 years older than everyone in class and he doesn’t give a shit about it

he’ll come like...once a week, if he’s in the mood enough

teachers don’t even bother scolding him for his tattoos anymore because there’s rumours going around he’s the son of a yakuza leader or that he’s a gangster who sells organs or some creepy dark stuff

ofc he doesn’t do that

he just does drugs and gets drunk at most

sukuna doesn’t really have that much friends either. yeah he parties with people and often gets high with some older kids, but he doesn’t genuinely enjoy their companies either

would totally come to school with his uniform unironed

red-eyed from his high and naps at the back of the class, making the teacher soften their voice in fear of waking him up

also doesn’t have a pen or paper

i mean...he doesn’t even bring a bag

fails the exams all the time, making him repeat year by year, and he’s even known for beating his senpai up for something stupid and sending the guy to a hospital where he stays for two weeks

but on the other hand

he’s also freakishly attractive and surprisingly easy to talk to

you probably bumped into him one time and you profusely apologize, but then he notices something about, something odd like, “did you just cut your hair?”

“uhm yes...you noticed?”

sukuna shrugs lazily, “noticed something was different, but whatever. it looks good on you though.”

he’s just soooo nonchalant most of the time, it’s hard to believe he’s actually pretty violent

but yeah this man has anger issues i’m sorry

but with that speaking, i actually don’t see sukuna as a bully with like a gang of his “followers” or that type of jazz

he’s more like the kid that hides under the bleachers or gets high in a storage room while everyone else is occupied with school festivals

it’s a shock he even came, but sukuna just says “free food is always a gift” but ofc it’s not free food...he just steals from the stalls

now here comes the fun part

so now that we know sukuna pretty much is a hopeless case...suddenly, he isn’t? maybe he meets you, the class volunteer who goes out of their way to visit his shabby apartment just to hand him his class work that he’s missed out on

he obviously disses you at first and ignores you, telling you to get lost

but somehow your kindness and persistence has him breaking

now he starts coming to school often, carrying a pack of gum or mint pops because he smells like weed and he’s slightly conscious of himself

this is supposed to be just them being students in high school, but i could honestly sukuna changing colors once he just gets a better grasp of what would be good for him

or maybe something finally interests him and gives answers to his silent questions

i feel like he’s such a troubled kid and just lacks proper care and attention, but once you become his friend and show him you don’t have bad intentions, he’s actually a loyal and decent guy

and when you two finally get close, you eventually gain enough courage to tutor him. sukuna is actually pretty smart too, he just doesn’t like studying, but when you compliment him, oh man, he melts

“yeah, you actually got that right! i told you you could do this!”

tsk,” he scoffs, “that’s all kindergarten shit.”

“if it is, then why haven’t you graduated?”

“shut the fuck up.”

although he sneers, you and sukuna have gotten close enough that you know both of you don’t mean anything bad behind those words and it’s all light hearted teasing

oh and when you ask him to take a picture with you for “high school memories?”

sukuna is disgusted

“get that thing away from my face - did you just take my photo?”

“yeah, you look pretty cute here! i’m so printing this and putting this in my album.”

sukuna is about to scold you even more, but the thought of you putting your photo together - even when he’s frowning in the picture - in something as sentimental as a photo book really has him softening up

would even try - keyword is try - to study more just so you’d stop frowning when you see his paper covered in red marks all over again

and he’d even try cutting down on his weed for the sake of his “health”

ofc he won’t suddenly - or ever, even - become the amazing student megumi is

he’ll still get into trouble because he’s impulsive and has poor coping skills, also he’s not good with words or dealing with his emotions

but on his good days, he’s a pretty funny guy

it just takes a lot to see that side of him, but it’s worth the time and patience

also i was expecting to write funny scenarios or imagines of stoner! sukuna because he’s too high to even hold a proper conversation sometimes but all i got is him saying weird words like “snail trap” or something when you ask him how his day is

would also have that garbled little laugh when he’s so out of it

sukuna will try to be better though, you just need to be patient him

but my GOSH when he finally graduates

he’s going to hide that little smile because deep down, he’s also pretty proud of himself and how far he’s come <3

lol now this makes me want to writer a high school au lololol

in conclusion: yeah he’s the stoner with a good heart 

which is so not canon...this shouldn’t even be a headcanon we know ryoumen sukuna is PURE EVIL but oh well maybe when I’m down from my sukuna high I’ll write him a lot more canonically

[fairyoftbz]

insecurities | l. juyeon

🧸 pairing: idol!juyeon x (insecure) fem!reader 🧸 word count: 2.7k 🧸 genre: angst, fluffy end 🧸 tw: mentions of insecurities, doubts 🧸 a/n: sorry i forgot to post, i had a busy day and im exhausted, i hope it's gonna be enough! 🧸 requested: yes! thank you, it is very cliché but i hope this is what you had in mind! 💝

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Juyeon came home tired but happy, excited to see you again after a long day of intense practice and a show where he participated as an MC. You, on the other hand, were not as happy as he was, but you were for sure tired of something.

You couldn’t deny it, dating Juyeon had positive points, he was everything you could ask for in a man, but there were just as many negative points. He was an attractive, sweet gentleman, and it was almost impossible for him not to attract other girls, not even doing it on purpose. And it was one of your many insecurities even if you considered yourself pretty, you couldn’t help but get insecure every time he talked to someone else.

Because let’s be honest, in the Korean music industry, every single woman looks like an absolute goddess. So, when he interacts with someone, and they’re a bit too friendly, your heart pinches in pain as he gives them the smile he keeps for you and you only.

You think that they are more interesting, prettier and funnier than you, which has the ability to send your thoughts to the dark side of self-consciousness, not feeling pretty or enough next to those women. And tonight, it was hard to watch on National TV your boyfriend being extremely friendly with the other MC.

You had tried to comfort yourself that it was just a mask, that he had to look friendly and handsome on TV. However, you couldn’t help feeling disappointment and anger as he gave attentive eyes to the other MC as she explained something, his eyes falling on her lips pressed against the mic.

Juyeon walks through the main door, tossing his keys on the chest of drawers, getting rid of his jacket and shoes before joining you in the living room, happy to see that you were watching the same channel he appeared on. Eyes glued on the screen, your thumb rubbed against your lips, feeling the skin of the cuticles you scratched while watching your boyfriend feeling rough against your lips.

“Hi love,” he said as he sat next to you, pressing his lips on your cheek. You didn’t react, only emitting a slight hum as he sat comfortably.

Juyeon frowned but didn’t raise your bad mood, trying to think what was going on inside your head. Maybe you had a bad day, or you were just tired, despite scratching his head and think, he couldn’t pinpoint what had brought you in such a bad mood.

“Did you have fun?” you bitterly spat, and Juyeon’s eyes widened, surprised by your tone, the wrinkle on his forehead deepening as his brows furrowed at your attitude.

“I did. Are you mad or something?” he bluntly asked, and you sighed, taking the remote to turn the TV off, falling in an unpleasant, uncomfortable silence.

“Oh no, I’m super fine. I really enjoyed my boyfriend giving heart eyes to another girl on national TV, it was such a nice thing to watch,” you bitterly chuckled, and Juyeon’s eyes widened even more, not expecting you to pull out the jealousy card on that.

“Babe, what are you talking about? You know-”

“Please, spare me your fake confusion and lame excuses, I clearly saw what I saw. My eyes never deceive me,” you said while standing up, but Juyeon was quick to imitate you and grab your wrist to prevent you from walking away. You tried to free yourself from his grip, but he only tightened his hand around it.

“Juyeon, let me go,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to prevent the tears from escaping your eyes. Breaking down was the last thing you wanted to do in this situation.

“Not before you explain to me what this fuss is all about,” he said, irritation replacing confusion in his eyes. You let out a mocking scoff, your eyes filled with anger and disdain boring into your boyfriend’s, holding eye contact for a few seconds.

“You really think I’m this dumb? I clearly saw the eyes you gave to the other MC when you were both animating the show. Cracking jokes, giving her smiles that could outshine the sun, your eyes ogling her lips when she was talking or smiling. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch that?” you raised your voice, letting anger take over your body.

“I never did all of that, I don’t know what you are insinuating,” he spat, trying not to show it, but your words hurt him, hating the fact that you could imagine him cheat on you or fancy another girl.

“Go on social media then, you will see what I am ‘insinuating’! Everyone is already talking about how whipped you are and how cute of a couple you would look together. Some fans are even starting to make edits!” you shouted, shoving your phone in your hoodie’s front pocket.

Juyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his nerves a bit, a gesture that had the ability to enrage you even more. Your family used to do that when they found you annoying or wanted to belittle you, and now seeing Juyeon doing the exact same thing as them really made you even more insecure about this whole situation. Your family made you feel like a real burden during your childhood and teen years that it hurt you to think that Juyeon was probably agreeing with that thought right now.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you are talking about. I was just trying to be nice, I can’t be rude or it’s mine and the group’s reputation that I’ll take down with me-”

“No it’s okay, no need to explain yourself, the message was very clear,” you said, and you finally freed yourself from his grip, your heart breaking as Juyeon sighed in annoyance again, seeing him almost roll his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t react like that, please,” he started, but you waved your hand in front of you.

“No, no, I got it, you-”

“Y/N, for the love of God, stop being so fucking insecure, it’s getting so fucking annoying at this point! I can’t do anything without you getting fucking doubtful, start having faith in me and in this relationship, dammit!” your eyes widened as Juyeon eventually snapped, his mouth slowly closing as he stared at you, realisation hitting him that his words and tone made a lot of damage once he saw the tears gather in your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The couch separated the two of you, creating the illusion of a painful wall that made you shiver, feeling like your apartment had lost all of its warmth on the spur of the moment. His words were brutal, and they bounced around your skull, your head turning towards the corridor to swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying not to break down in front of him.

“Y/N, I’m-”

“Leave me alone,” you replied, voice wavering as you walked out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut before locking it.

Juyeon sighed and carded his hands through his dark locks, closing his eyes as he thought of the words that had escaped his mouth too quickly. He cursed under his breath as the living room fell into a deafening silence, his hands linked at the back of his neck as he thought of what just happened.

“Why did I say that,” he muttered under his breath and collapsed on the couch, unlocking his phone and scrolling on social media to try and momentarily forget your beautiful face painted with a hurtful expression because of him, but it was to no avail.

He saw what you saw; the fiction, the edits, the collages, he saw and read everything. He already hated seeing you cry and being hurt, but he actually loathed himself for being such an idiot and not comfort you about the whole situation with what was happening on every social platform.

His heart shattered in millions of pieces as he pictured you crying in your shared bed, holding the stuffed animal he got you for your anniversary tight against your chest, letting you drown in your insecurities and intrusive thoughts. He loved you very much, but despite him trying to remind you every single day, your intrusive thoughts always managed to get the upper hand when you found yourself hanging out on your own or with some friends. It was as if your brain shut out everyone who tried to reassure you or make you feel better, letting you drown and struggle in your sorrow.

Yes, the other idols were pretty, but they were nothing compared to you. Juyeon had only eyes for you and cared about you and, of course, his members, but never had he thought about leaving you for someone else. His intentions were just to sound and appear nice and welcoming on TV because he knew that some fans, antis and media wouldn’t hesitate a second to bash him on different platforms and articles for his rudeness and insensitivity towards his idol colleague. And not only would he break his reputation, but also the group’s, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

However, he also understood that it was something hard to watch for you, even if he reminded you every single day that you were the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Sitting on the couch, he started reflecting, putting himself in your shoes for a second. How would he have reacted if he saw you being super friendly and affectionate to another man? Someone more handsome, nicer than him, cracking jokes here and there to see you smile and laugh.

He tossed his phone on the couch space next to him, where he wished you were instead of crying yourself in your shared bed, watching the device bounce, collide with the armrest and fall on the ground. He didn’t even fret checking if the screen cracked, head too high in his thoughts to bother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he pressed his joined hands against his mouth, tongue poking his inner cheek as he realised he had really messed everything up. His knee started bouncing at the disgusting thought of losing you, perfectly knowing that he had to do something before you could slip through his hand like grains of sand.

Juyeon stood up and knocked on the bedroom door, softly calling for your name.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you didn’t respond, faintly hearing you cry on the other side of the wall. “Go away, please,” your strained voice barely making it to his ears, his fingers drumming against the surface of the door in frustration.

From your side of the bed, still holding that teddy bear close to your chest, you let your tears damp the top of its head, feeling the exhaustion of crying kicking in. Juyeon didn’t knock another time, trying not to push your buttons too much to save his chances to talk to you.

You heard a small thud on the lower part of the door, frowning as you wondered what it was. Deep breathings filled in the silence lingering in the corridor, selfishly feeling a bit relieved that you weren’t the only one hurt in this situation. Juyeon was a smart, tolerant man, he knew when to put his pride aside and not blame you for something you said or did. Well, it’s not the case for this time, and it’s probably exhaustion that spoke for him, and that, of course, doesn’t excuse anything, but he wanted to apologise and make up for everything.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me or hear my voice after what I’ve told you, but I really want to apologise for what I’ve said,” you held your breath to hear his faint, low voice on the other side of the door. You sat up and felt dizzy for a quick second, still holding the teddy bear against your chest, your face buried in its head as you let the tears keep rolling on your cheeks.

“I know it’s hard to date me, and I’m really sorry, I wish we had a simpler life, where we could hang out and go on dates like two normal people. It’s also hard for me to not be the type of boyfriend everyone wishes to have, but I’m so damn grateful to call you mine.” Juyeon marked a pause and ruffled his hair, pushing the front pieces away from his hair while thinking of his following words.

“I… you don’t know how much I’m sorry for using your insecurities against you. I shouldn’t have, it was the dumbest move I could ever do, but I just didn’t know what to answer. You are so pretty, so beautiful, amazing, and absolutely wonderful to have around to me, so seeing you this insecure makes me mad every time you compare yourself to someone you think looks prettier, thinner, or more perfect than you. It’s... really frustrating because I try my best to make you feel like a goddess and worth it every day, but those unrealistic society standards and god damn social media make you feel like you are not worth an ounce of love,” he took in a big breath and raised his knees upwards, letting his forearms rest on them.

You slowly opened the door behind him and dropped the teddy bear by his side, letting him know of your presence. He was quick to notice it and turn around to hug your legs tightly, your hands finding their way in his hair and started massaging his skull.

“I’m so sorry, Ju,” you faintly whispered, and he breathed in deeply against your skin as if he finally found you again after being separated from you for years.

He grabbed your cherished stuffed animal and stood up, holding it against your chest with a tender smile. He sat you down on the bed and gave you a proper hug, mouth pressing loving kisses on your forehead and temple as his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you as close to him as possible.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am. I love you so, so much, I’m really sorry for all the stupid words I’ve thrown at you,” he said, and you shook your head, squeezing your arms around his middle tightly as an answer.

“I guess I have to accept that you have eyes only for me. But you know, it’s hard to acknowledge it and believe it when you find everyone around you ten times more beautiful than you are,” you mumbled against his chest as you sat on his lap, and he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat.

“I know Y/N, I know. I wish I could rid you of those insecurities, my heart breaks each time I see you so unsure of yourself. You're just so beautiful and amazing, it honestly kills me to see you like this,” he whispered, and you bitterly chuckled, gently pulling away to look at him with pearly eyes, his arms around you holding you still tight, making sure that you wouldn’t go too far from him.

“You can’t do that, but maybe you can help me soothe them by keeping loving me the way you’ve done since day one,” you mumbled, and he smiled, his eyes shining with tears just like yours.

You both cupped each other’s face and sadly smiled at the other, Juyeon feeling comforted at the sensation of your thumbs wiping the tears away from his cheeks and vice versa.

“We just need time, love, but I promise I’m going to help you realise how much you mean to me and how beautiful you are. And how much I don’t care about other girls,” he mumbled, and he gently drew your face closer to his, your lips grazing against his mouth. You closed your eyes at the proximity, feeling so much love and passion in his kiss that it was getting hard to breathe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Juyeon pulled away from your lips and whispered against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours.

“I love you too,” you smiled, burying your face in his neck, your boyfriend kissing the crown of your head while hugging you tight.

You giggled as Juyeon applied pressure on your waist, making you fall on your side on the bed. His hand gently cradled your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone with a soft smile on his face. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his, feeling him chuckle and gently press his lips against yours.